“Is it?” I retorted, watching her closely.
Hannah didn’t reply, her gaze shifting uncomfortably away from mine. She was hiding something.
“So you weren’t introduced to your wife through Knox?”
Her mouth remained pursed, but her eyes moved back to my face.
“You knew him from working with Rhett and Kitty, and since Kieran and Knox happen to be … friends, I just figured he introduced you.”
Her gaze skimmed my face. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but it was apparent I had surprised her.
Admittedly, when I’d seen her picture on my computer screen, my first thought was to hire the woman who knew me better than anyone else. But a moment later, I’d rescinded that idea because of how well Hannah did know me. Or rather, the old me. I could not afford to have her treating me like the insecure, neglected girl I’d been growing up. I had shed that skin, and I refused to go back.
Hannah sat up. “Look, I knew it was a long shot, but I had to take it. I’ve missed you since we parted ways, and … well, I thought it would be nice to work with you.”
“Forme,” I clarified. “The position is for someone who works for me.”
“Right. I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She took a deep breath, stood. “I certainly didn’t come here to offend you in any way, Emily. I would never do that. I hope you know that.”
“I do. Of course I do,” I said as I got to my feet. “It’s just … well, everything’s new to me right now, and I’m finding my footing.”
Her blue eyes softened. “And you want to keep moving forward. Not looking back.”
I canted my head, willing her to understand.
Her smile came, slow and empathetic. “If you ever need anything, I’m just a phone call away.”
This time, I did hug her, wanting her to know I valued her friendship even if I didn’t see a working relationship in our future.
By the time five o’clock neared, my brain was starting to gear down for the day, although I still had one interview left. I’d spent the past hour with the finance manager, Sampson, listening to him drone on about his thoughts on various things. While I appreciated his knowledge and insight, I wasn’t looking forward to too many more of those meetings, although he assured me we’d be doing them on a weekly basis.
I knew it couldn’t all be glitz and glamour.
“Miss Campbell, your five o’clock is here,” Zena's voice rang over the phone’s intercom.
“Thanks. Would you mind sending him in?” I didn’t bother telling her my feet hurt like the devil, and the thought of walking to the reception area made me want to hack them off at the ankles. The shoes I’d opted for hadn’t been the best choice for my first day. It would take some time to acclimate to having my toes crunched, and my heels elevated.
I managed to slide my aching feet back into my pumps as the door opened. I stood, stepped out from behind the glossy white desk.
I’d snuck a quick peek at Emmett Ward’s resume when I’d been pretending to process everything Sampson had told me, but nothing I read could’ve prepared me for the vivacious man who strolled into my office with a huge grin plastered on his boyishly handsome face.
“Emmett?”
“Miss Campbell, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you,” he said, strolling right over and offering a hand. “My friends call me Mett.”
“They do?”
He shook his head, smiled mischievously. “No. Could you imagine?”
I laughed, placing my hand in his. He shook it gently, then took a step back, continuing to hold it as he looked me over from head to toe.
Emmett looked to be mid-to-late-twenties. He wasn’t a big man, probably around five-eight since we were approximately the same height with my heels on. His sandy blond hair was tousled in a manner that said it was on purpose. His face was clean-shaven, his nose perfectly straight, eyebrows groomed to perfection, and there was a sparkle in his hazel eyes. His skin was lightly bronzed, and I briefly wondered if he used self-tanner. It wouldn’t surprise me with all the metrosexual men I’d met in this city. All in all, he was boy-next-door cute, but it was his infectious smile that did me in.
“First of all, we’ll need to get you some flats that you can wear while you’re in here. No sense butchering your pretty toes while no one’s looking.”
My eyebrows shot skyward.
He waved his free hand. “The outfit … now that’s to die for. Prada?”
