I can tell she’s holding back a laugh. “And the one before that?”
“Lasted six weeks. I hear she’s a yoga instructor these days.”
“So, resilience is the number one qualification you’re looking for.” She folds her hands in her lap, mirroring my posture.
“Resilience. And accuracy,” I continue the thought. “Most people are incapable of both.” I watch her for any sign of intimidation, but she only nods.
I pick up her resume, and scan through it again. “You were at your last company for three years. Why aren’t you still there?”
She doesn’t flinch. “Downsized. Office politics.” She says it like she’s telling me about a dead houseplant—something you can’t get sentimental about.
“Yet your references are impeccable.” I tap a finger on the page. “Would any of them lie for you?”
“They might. But not very convincingly.”
I let the resume drop to the desk. “Here’s the deal. You’re overqualified for the secretary part, but underqualified for the people part. What makes you think you can handle the politics here if you couldn’t at the firm you were just at?”
“I don’t know,” she says, surprising me with the admission. “But I’m willing to find out. Unless you want to keep interviewing and making bad hires. It looks like you’re just as desperate as I am, honestly.”
I’m instantly pissed at the jab. But also…damn,she’s good.
I stand and walk to the window. I try to imagine her outlasting the meat grinder that chews through most hires here. She has a hungry look about her, but not a desperate doormat vibe.
Still, I could be wrong.
When I turn back, she’s watching me. Her posture is perfect. Her eyes are so blue they almost look translucent, and I suddenly can’t imagine not seeing them again.
Fuck it.
I clear my throat. “Can you start Monday?”
She stares at me, surprise settling into her features. “Yes.”
I nod. “Great. I’ll have HR email you a packet to complete over the weekend. Welcome to Modern Edge.”
“Thank you.” She stands and as she offers her hand, I see the relief on her face.
I take her hand, which is warm and soft against mine. I have to force myself to let it go.
“See you Monday,” she says, gives me a quick smile, and leaves the room.
I wait until the door shuts, then sit down and stare at the folder. Her floral scent hangs in the air.
The intercom pops, breaking my moment of reflection. “Beck’s on his way,” Marissa comes across the speaker.
I push the button. “Thanks.”
The door swings open immediately, no knock. Beck fills the doorframe, broad-shouldered, sleeves rolled up, an easy smile that I’ll never be able to achieve. He’s the most happy-go-lucky asshole I’ve ever met. And my best friend and business partner.
“Dude,” he grins, “I heard you just hired someone.” He saunters to the couch, drops into it like it’s a hammock.
“Word gets around fast,” I deadpan.
He picks up the resume sitting on my desk, his expression difficult to read as he pours over it. “Maddy Williams.She’s alittle green for the big leagues, isn’t she?” He peers back up at me.
“She’s got bite. You know I like that.”
He nods and then sets the paper back down. “So are you going to tell her about the three-month curse, or just let her figure it out?”
