Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I like watching her think, watching her regroup.
She’s good at it.
“I assume you have experience with Python?” I ask next.
She nods. “Four years. Mostly for scripting, but I’ve written production code.”
“C++?”
She hesitates, but just a fraction. “It’s not my favorite, but I know it.”
I snort softly. “It’s not anyone’s favorite.”
That wins me the smallest smile.
I have to look away for a second, or I’ll let something show. I flick my eyes back to her resumé.
“You worked in a lab as a research assistant,” I say.
“Yes,” she says. “I mostly did data analysis. Statistical modeling.”
“That’s useful.”
She nods.
I set the folder down. She’s possibly the perfect candidate for this job, which makes this hard. It means I can’t reject her. I also can’t let my personal feelings get in the way.
“Tell me,” I say, voice lower. “Do you handle yourself well under pressure?”
She bristles again. “I think I proved that last night.”
I smirk. “I thought we weren’t talking about last night.”
She shifts, crossing one leg over the other. The movement drags my eyes down for a second.
I force myself to look back at her face.
“I thought that would be the polite thing to do,” she answers.
“Look,” I say finally, voice going hard again. “I don’t hire people because they’re polite. I hire them because they’re better than everyone else in the room.”
Her lip trembles for a second before she bites it. That shouldn’t be as fucking hot as it is. I take a deep breath.
“Your resumé is solid,” I tell her. “Your project leadership is excellent. Your recommendations are glowing. And you didn’t fold when I pushed you.”
She’s speechless. I take a deep breath. Fuck it. “You’re hired,” I say flatly.
She stares at me for a moment, slightly dumbfounded. “What?” she asks breathlessly.
I tilt my head. “I said you’re hired.”
She looks lost for a second.
Her mouth opens again. “Are you sure?”
“You came here for a job,” I remind her.
“Yes,” she says faintly.
“I’m offering one,” I say, voice dropping to that same calm, dangerous register I used last night.
Her eyes widen.
She takes a shaky breath.
“Salary is in the high six figures,” I continue calmly. “It comes with full benefits and stock options after the first year. You start on Monday.”
I can see the calculation in her eyes. The disbelief. The suspicion.
“And this isn’t because you think I’m some damsel in distress or something?” she whispers.
I don’t answer, but I can’t help smirking at this. She is no damsel. In fact, she might be the death of me.
“Okay,” she says finally.
“Okay?” I ask, confused, my thoughts drifting elsewhere.
She clears her throat. “I mean, yes. I accept.”
I nod once. “Good,” I say simply.
She stands slowly, smoothing her skirt. I lean back, watching her the whole time. She catches me looking and flushes again, turning away quickly, but not before I get one last look at the way that skirt hugs her hips.
My jaw tightens. As she walks out, I let my eyes trail down her legs. Fuck. Monday can’t come soon enough.
5
LYRA
Istep out of the cab and stand on the sidewalk for a minute, trying to catch my breath. My legs feel like rubber, my heart is still pounding, and I can’t stop replaying every second of that meeting in my head.
I’m hired. I got the job. I should be dancing in the street right now, but instead I feel like I just stumbled off a dangerous roller coaster.
I finally force my legs to move and take the stairs up to my apartment. My keys are slippery in my sweaty palm, but I manage to get the door unlocked without dropping them.
I’m prepared to sneak in quietly, maybe crash on the couch and let the adrenaline drain out, but the second I open the door, I know I’m screwed. Becca is sitting on the couch, cradling a giant mug of coffee in both hands. Her eyes are locked on the door before I’m even halfway inside.
“Well?” she demands.
I blink at her in surprise. “How are you even awake?”
She narrows her eyes. “Spill it, Taylor.”
I groan and shut the door behind me, tossing my bag onto the small dining table.
“You’re like a bloodhound.”
She doesn’t deny it. She just takes a sip of coffee and raises one eyebrow. I blow out a breath and kick off my sensible heels, wiggling my sore toes.
“Okay. Fine. You want the headline?”
Becca leans forward. “Yes. Please.”
I press my lips together, trying to contain the grin that’s been threatening to escape ever since I left his office. “I got the job.”
Her eyes go wide. She slams her mug onto the coffee table so hard coffee sloshes over the side. “Shut up!” she screams, giddy.
I let the grin finally break free. “I’m serious. He hired me on the spot.”
She lets out an unholy shriek and I wince.
“Becca—”
But it’s too late. She leaps off the couch and slams into me in a hug that nearly knocks me off balance.