Thank you for your application. I would like to invite you to interview for the position of Design and Marketing Consultant.
Please attend the offices at the address below, at nine tomorrow.
Sincerely,
Kane Anderson.
Oh. My. God. Eeeee! I’m instantly on my feet doing a happy dance, vibrating with excitement. I have an interview!
A small voice of caution says that this is too good to be true. That there’s more than luck at play here.
I tell the voice toshut up. I didn’t question when I had bad luck, I just accepted that’s what happens. I will not spoil this.
Nine tomorrow. There’s no time to do anything to get myself together. Not clothes or any of the things I’d want, like my certificates or references. Not even clean knickers. I’ll have to go without.
I only have two things available to get me the job: my creativity and resourcefulness.
Rooting around in the welcome pack, I find a pad of headed notepaper. Okay. I have internet access. I have paper to think with, because although I conceded that thinking is strictly done with a brain, apparently my brain needs paper.
Clicking the fancy complimentary pen, and curling onto the sofa, I get to work, sketching out logos and page layouts. I am going to come up with a lot of fantastic ideas for the rebranding.
My entire future depends on it.
6
LILY
I smooth down my jean shorts and top and wish for the hundredth time that there had been a way to dress up as I pause before walking into the office block. The shiny discreetly signed building is the sort of place that your eyes slide right past, but when you look back you can’t believe you missed it. There’s an understated luxury at every turn. Each pane of glass and stone is precision placed and heavy with wealth.
“Your interview is with Mr Anderson,” the older woman says. “His office is through the doors.”
“The boss is personally overseeing the brochure redesign?”
She nods, but her expression says,good luck with the Devil.
My knees shake as I approach the door. It’s suddenly impressed on me how much I want this job. I would have been happy to take any role, but this? It’s a dream come true.
I draw in a long breath through my nose, then exhale, trying to let out all the tension, and knock.
“Enter.”
Here goes nothing.
The door opens, heavy but smooth, revealing a clean grey-and-white room with a marble floor and an expanse of glass that looks over the city skyline and blue sky scattered with fluffyclouds. A man with dark brown wavy hair and wide shoulders sits at a desk, head bowed.
“Close the door. I prefer privacy.” He has a deep, rough voice that’s commanding.
I hurry to obey, then he looks up, and my heart skips a beat. Because although I’m not wearing any knickers, and my top saysJust One More Chapter, I feel like a girl at a ball.
My potential boss is gorgeous.
A defined jawline and cheekbones, yes, and tanned skin. His mouth is wide and generous, and he has a small scar over his right eyebrow, but hiseyes. Oh my. His eyes are violet, and his regard is a shot of something hot and intense. It strengthens me. My nipples tighten, my cheeks heat and confidence fills me like he’s poured liquid steel into my spine.
“Miss Sullivan.” Do his violet eyes have x-ray vision? Can he see all my secrets and fantasies? It feels that way.
“Mr Anderson.” I try to keep my tone formal, despite the riot of emotions in my chest. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
He nods slowly and points to the seat opposite him with a long blunt finger. His hands momentarily entrance me. They’re so masculine. Solid and squared, a dusting of hair at his wrist and his nails short and neat.
