I brush my fingers through my dark hair and check myself out in the mirror again. I look professional, but that doesn’t mean I have to look bad. My grey pencil skirt hugs my hips and the pink silk button up I have on doesn’t hide my curves. All though, I don’t think anything could. A perk of having a classic hourglass figure.
Mom always said I should have become a model instead of bothering with the corporate world, but I know what makes for a better retirement and I know that I’d rather have more control over my life than models get – something I learned quickly in high school when Mom insisted I audition for a company.
I snort at the memory and slide into heels.
Her voice in the back of my head reminding me that women move up in the world based on how they play the system won’t quiet, even as I check my resume and dab a sweet pink lipstick over my lips.
Working at Langston Components will be a hell of an experience. And if more happens, then it happens, but I’m going to be in control of my future and my life. Period. Mom can just talk herself blue in the face.
When I arrive at the office, I hear plenty going on, but the blonde woman at the front of the office narrows her eyes at me. “Can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m Bella Schneider. I have an interview with …. Miss Janet Crown in fifteen minutes.”
She sighs heavily and motions for me to go sit with one of her long manicured nails. I take a seat, crossing my ankles, and make sure my phone is on silent as she speaks with someone in a much more chipper voice.
“Someone will be with you shortly.” She says, now wearing a smile.
She touches up her mascara and smiles brightly as an older man comes through the door. Older, sure, but gorgeous, even if he’s slightly annoyed. The woman at the counter is clearly smitten. Not that I can blame her.
His thick brown hair is going a little gray, but in the way that says he’s definitely lived, not just sat around waiting for life to come to him. He has a thick barrel chest, but I have no doubt he’s straight muscle. He’s rugged, sexy, and when he looks me over with a heated look, I feel his gaze like a caress.
Holy crap.
I fight the urge to fan my face. If nothing else, I can prove that I’m composed. I know how to fake it. Standing, I walk to him and offer my hand. “Hello. I’m Bella Schneider.”
“Bella.” He savors my name like it’s a fine wine. “How lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Langston. Join me in our conference room.”
I follow him into a room and sit down at the end of the table. I expect him to sit at the other end, despite it being so long, but instead, he pulls out a chair close to me, just on the other side of the corner.
He’s so big, he takes up the whole thing and already, I’m picturing his hands on my body, stroking, teasing, caressing. I nibble my bottom lip, remember I put on lipstick, and make myself stop.
Mr. Langston is a potential boss and he has to be at least double my age. I’m not going to embarrass myself like that other woman. Even when he smiles slightly and I feel my heart stutter. No. I’m here for a job not … a one-night stand.
I lean forward to consult my resume and hear him make a pleased sound. Fuck. I left two buttons undone out of habit. Which means he can definitely see right down my shirt.
“So, Bella, what drew your attention to my company?”
I take a sobering breath and meet his eyes as I lean back in the chair. “I know that you’ve just expanded and no company in a questionable situation would. You and your partners are well aware of what needs to be done in today’s market and I’d like to learn all I can about how you have made such a profitable company by working from the ground up.”
I offer my resume, seeing he doesn’t have it. “I have years of experience in customer service and management. While I haven’t always worked in the corporate world, I think that means I can bring a different kind of perspective to the job.”
“A personal touch,” He says, eyes flicking back to me as the corner of his mouth pulls up in a sexy smile. “Interesting. And you know you’d be working directly below me?”
“Below you,” I whisper, then catch myself. “Yes. Yes. I’d be working for you and your partners, organizing meetings, taking calls, fielding emails.”
“Seeing to any of our … needs, when they arise.”
Why does that sound so dirty when he says it? Almost aggressively dirty. I twirl my hair around my finger.
“Of course. My job is to keep you able to work without a problem and satisfied.”
“I’m sure you are more than capable of keeping me satisfied, Bella,” He says. “In fact, at the moment, I can’t find fault with you.”
“Well, if you’re asking for my weaknesses, that will be a challenge. I work on myself constantly, whenever I notice something needs improving, I do it. I’m a very … ambitious person and I’m willing to put in the work. However, I can be very direct.”
“Do you prefer people to be direct with you?”
“I think it can help eliminate misunderstands and confusion.” I just have to stay professional.
Mr. Langston nods once, but he chuckles like I’m missing a personal joke. “Staying professional … It’s necessary for some situations but not all. I like to consider workers who stay more like friends.”
“Really?”
“Is that surprising?” He rubs his jaw and looks me over again. “Friend may be the wrong word for you, though.”
“So you can already see me in the role?” I push. “I do have some other offers, but I know where I want to be.”
“I’m sure you do. You strike me as a woman who knows what she wants and is willing to do whatever it takes to get it. I appreciate that.” He nods once. “It shows a strength of character that many lack. Few people understand sacrifice, dedication, determination. Let me ask you something.”
“Of course. I think that’s the theme of interviews.” I smile slightly.
He grins right back and gets closer. “If I were to tell you that you aren’t what we’re looking for, that you seem a little … rigid and unyielding, what would you do?”
“Remind you that it’s an asset. If a person were to try and get me to change your schedule for a meeting, would you want me to wiggle things around and fill your schedule or be able to tell them no without any room for argument?”
He nods. “And you are good at saying no, I take it.”
“Very.”
“Good to hear. I think everything seems to be in line here.”
This is the shortest interview I’ve ever been in. I clear my throat. “I do have a question for you.”
“Only one?”
“One right now then.” I revise, trying to remind myself for the umpteenth time to be professional. Even if I’m tempted to flirt, flip my hair, play with the necklace that sits right at my cleavage, that’s not how I want to get the job. “Do you have any concerns about me? Anything that would keep you from hiring me?”
“Only one, but it’s not something you can change.”
“Would you like to share?”
“You’re a gorgeous woman, Bella.” He says simply. “Temptation in a pencil skirt and I worry that my partners, as you call them, won’t be able to focus on their jobs.”
I don’t know what to say to that. He’s right. I can’t change it. I won’t dress down to get a job.
“Especially considering, I’m already having trouble focusing on our conversation and not your gorgeous legs.”
My face heats and I realize I’m playing with the hem of my skirt, right at my knees. I clear my throat. “Is that going to keep me from getting a job I know I’d do well?”
“Considering my options are hiring someone who’s clearly determined and capable while having to resist the urge to devour her or deal with more interviews of people who are less professional and … controlled, I think my answer is obvious.”
I just blink at him stupidly. He wants to devour me? How? My mouth, my pussy … both?
No. Not important, Bella. Stay focused.
“So it’s safe to say I have the job.”
“As far as I’m concerned yes, but I think you should meet my partners. I try to include them in my decisions.”
“About hiring?”
“About hiring, about women, especially women like you. Who could wrap them around her finger with no problem.” He actually winks at me.
Heat teases my nerves and I can’t stop myself from shivering. Mr. Langston’s eyes drift over me slowly and I’m suddenly very self-conscious about how hard my nipples are. I take a shaking breath.
“I don’t think I have that much power, sir.”
He groans softly. “You have no idea. The position of secretary is yours, as for other positions … we can discuss those as we get to know each other better. Come along.”
I nearly stumble in my heels, still reeling. Was this an interview or a first date? And why am I suddenly hoping it’s both wrapped up into one?
“Would you like a hand?” Mr. Langston asks as he stabilizes me.
“I can walk on my own,” I assure him. “I’m very experienced in heels.”
“No need to add that last bit. I know an experienced and strong woman when I see one. I also know that the strongest women deserve the most pampering.” His voice goes husky. “What do you think about that?”
“I think men in positions of power tend to like to carry control throughout their life and bend people to their will in and out of the office.”
“Good choice of words. I have been thinking about control and … and similar topics since you walked in.” His hand hovers near my lower back, not touching me, but I still feel the warmth of his palm.
I’m also embarrassingly wet. Reading into every one of his comments is doing that to me. I take a shuddering breath as we approach an office. “Mr. Langston …”
“Miles. Please.” He insists. “My name is a mouthful.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He arches an eyebrow and I clear my throat. “I don’t mind.”
“So you can handle a mouthful. Good to know, Bella.”
Okay, that one was blatant. Just like his eyes dipping to my breasts again and the corner of his mouth slightly tipping up. What happened to the version of me that would demand professionalism and want this job based on merit, not looks or … sex appeal?
Instead, all his flirting and comments just make me eager, make me remember how long it’s been since I’ve been fucked properly. And I’m already wondering if my visits to his office, which I’m sure will be daily, are only going to be about handing him folders or if it will involve me getting to find out if he really is a mouthful.
I lick my bottom lip and Miles nods. “You are going to be wonderful.”
“For the office?”
“Of course.” But that sly smile promises more. ‘The office, the partners, whatever you’d prefer, Bella. You’re not the only one that aims to please.”
My breath catches in my throat as his fingers brush the top of my skirt. I realize I’m leaning into his touch when he opens a door. What kind of magic is this man made of?
