“I guess dreams do come true,” I tell him, admiring the view, rather than his face, although his face is comparable to the sights outside.
When I redirect my attention to him, he’s smirking at me … like I said what I was thinking . . . out loud.
“Tell me about yourself, Miss Ashley,” he continues.
I cross my hands and rest them on my lap. “Well, I just graduated with a degree in hospitality management from Hartford University. I was originally planning to stay up north, but my brother offered me an opportunity I couldn’t pass up, which entailed moving here, and yeah, now I’m here.”
Noah pushes away from his desk, rolling his chair back a few inches so he can cross one leg over the other. Ah, and there’s another junk shot. I need to stop looking at this poor guy’s crotch. He’s been nothing but respectful to me, and yet, I’m acting like a total sleazeball. “I don’t care about school, Miss Ashley. Tell me about you.”
About me.
Well, right now, I feel like I might be imagining the fact that you’re seductively dragging the pad of your thumb across your bottom lip.
I want to tell him that. It’s like he’s trying to distract me from answering his question.
Never mind the fact that his question catches me off guard, I know how to interview. I know what’s appropriate to say and what’s not. I realize some personal questions are bound to come up, but he’s not wasting any time in learning about me as a person rather than my qualifications.
My mind goes blank, of course. I can’t think of one interesting thing to say about my life. I had a normal childhood; I did okay in school, stayed out of trouble, went to college, and graduated. There isn’t too much bragging I can do. “Can I be honest, Noah?”
“I hope so,” he responds. “I prefer honesty.” Noah continues listening to me while running his fingers across the bottom of his chin. I swear his eyes are undressing me. I’d go ahead and picture him naked, but that might not be the best idea to regain my confidence here.
I close my eyes for a second to recenter my focus. I need to continue on a professional path, despite what he wants to know personally about me. “Well, I have spent the last four years of my life trying to ensure I have a promising career in the future. Except, I spent the last five months assertively looking for a job, finding nothing on the horizon. I’m aware it takes time to gain experience to move up in a profession, so when I saw your hiring sign, I knew this could be a good place to start. Of course, having the beach to stare at while doing so doesn’t seem like the worst way to start out, right?”
Noah brings his forefingers together and presses them against his lips. “You’re here for different reasons than I expected,” he says.
“Is that a good thing or bad?”
“I’ve been looking for someone like you,” he begins. A waitress with a drive? “There is an opportunity for growth here. Within the next few months, we plan to open our facility up for events and catering. The Clam Pit is a self-grown enterprise with over fifteen locations across the United States and soon-to-be in the U.S. Virgin Islands, as well.”
“That’s incredible,” I tell him, feeling a little star struck that this man, at such a young age, is so successful. Here I am, looking for a meager waitressing job.
“I’d like to offer you a position here. We’ll start you off waitressing, but I want to put you into a management role once you’re comfortable. What do you think about that?”
“I think you have a lot of faith in me for not giving you so much as a resume,” I tell him. I realize it’s not the best thing to say to someone offering me the world, but I have a big question mark floating through my head.
“According to your application,” he says, touching the trackpad on his laptop and glancing down at the screen, “you have held quite a few internships at various hotels within Connecticut, including a full summer at one of the top hotels in Boston. It seems to me, you know where you want to go, and that’s what I want in my franchise.”
I suppose he has a point. “I don’t have a lot of experience.”
“Are you trying to talk yourself out of a potentially large salary in the coming months?” His question feels pointed, and his brows knit together with an austere glint to his mesmerizing eyes.
“Oh, no, just being honest.”
“Ashley, I would like to bring you on board. What do you say?”
Keep it together. Act professional.
“Yes, yes, thank you so much. I am excited to get started.”
“Perfect,” he says, unfolding his legs. Well, at least his junk can breathe again. “I’m going to put all the paperwork together for you, and we can get you started as soon as you’re available to begin.”
“I can start tomorrow,” I tell him.No part of that sounded desperate. None of it.
“Tomorrow works for me.” Noah reaches across his desk and offers me his hand to shake. “Why don’t you plan to arrive at eleven and we’ll get you started with a lunch shift.”
I shake his hand in agreement. “Perfect.”
“I’m sure you noticed the attire. Black shorts and a white polo. Downtown, there’s a uniform store that should have the items you need.”
