Charli leaned close. “Your main job is to know and if you could, predict, what the trend in the market is right now regarding these materials. You need to look for projects worthy of international viewership. You have a blog, no?”
The sudden switch of subjects made my head whirl a bit but I nodded again.
“And you review works, there, no?”
“Yes.” Did she Google me too? How did she know so much about me?
“So I want you to do the same here, but only this time, you get heard.” She leaned back on her chair and looked at me with her naturally green and incredibly sharp eyes. “You will take the job, no?”
“I’d be crazy not to,” was all I could say.
Afterwards, Charli told me that I along with the two other applicants called back for a second interview yesterday had the same jobs. We would work as a team and individually, depending on necessity. The salary she quoted for me was standard pay in the industry, but she told me this could go higher in a short time, based on my performance. On the bright side, she did say I’d get free meals at work, excellent overtime pay when needed, and transportation allowance.
Mondays to Thursdays, I was required to report in office attire. Fridays were anything-goes. My work schedule would be from 8am to 5pm. No grace period. Oh, and one thing else, Charli reminded me as a post script — office romances were not allowed.
Déjà vu struck me for the second time, and I almost shivered at it.
Constantijin was still nowhere to be found when I finally walked out of the doors of Kastein, Inc. My phone rang just as I reached the other side of the street.
“Hello?”
“Did you miss me, Yanna?”
Holy...
It was him.
Constantijin.
The whole world disappeared the moment I realized who I was talking to. People were constantly walking before me, drivers honking their horns, and there was even a construction crew a few feet away drilling into the cement, doing God knew what. But none of their noise reached my ears.
“Yanna?”
I still didn’t know what to say so I stayed silent, secretly content to replay the sound of his voice over and over, especially the part where he said my name with that accented voice of his.
“I think about you all the time, schat.”
What did that last word mean? I was so, like, Googling that after this.
When I still didn’t answer, his tone turned from seductive to serious as he asked, “Why did you run away?”
Why didn’t you run after me?
But I couldn’t ask him that, could I? It would have been akin to, like, begging him to come after me. I said finally, in a stiff voice that required all my acting skills to carry off, “I don’t think we should be talking like this anymore. I’ll be working for you starting tomorrow. It would be inappropriate.”
A long pause followed, one that made me anxious and tense even though I didn’t want to be. I should hang up now. I knew that, but I couldn’t.
“That’s impossible.”
I inhaled sharply at the words, conscious of the zing of relief that went through me and shamed by it. Oh, God, I was so pathetic. Sometimes, I was too stubborn for my own good. Constantijin Kastein was bad news. How many times did I have to repeat to myself that anything that had to do with Netherland’s #1 playboy was surely going to end not just with a broken hymen but a broken heart as well?
My fingers tightened around my mobile phone. “I’m hanging up after this, Mr. Kastein. Please just---”
“I want to f**k you too much to stay away.”
Holy. Shit.
I glared at my phone, wishing it was a blond gorgeous giant I was glaring at instead. With just those few words, he had ruined whatever composure I had. Now, all I could think about was how he had me on the table, devouring my br**sts, his erection jutting hard against my core, and me right now, soaking wet in the middle of a public street.
“Stop saying things like that,” I said weakly. Lame response, I know, but right now? That was, like, the best I could dish out.
“Why not?” The purr in his voice made me tremble, something I was sure had people looking at me oddly if they noticed. It was still early in the day, with the sun sending golden rays all over the place, and yet here I was shivering with desire.
“We just cant. It’s not…we can’t, okay?”
He chuckled, and the sound sent deliciously erotic shivers down my spine. It was almost as if I could feel his fingers trailing my back, promising me pleasure a hundred times more intense if I finally let him take me.
“Yanna, we are already doing it, whether you admit it or not. And tomorrow, when you get to work, we’ll be doing a lot more than this.”
Lesson #4
Don’t ask to be friends with your billionaire.
He’ll think you’re after the benefits, not the friendship.
In theory, first day of work should have been like first days in school. You had to feel your way around, meet new friends and frenemies, and figure out what you had to do to not be an outcast. But the thing was, I had never experienced first-day trouble, mostly because I tended to skip it altogether. By the time I did show up in school, Alyx and Daria had already smoothed things over for me. They were cool, ergo I was cool by association.
But obviously, that wasn’t an option I had at work.
I took a shower early and chose a perfectly modest outfit for my first day – black blouse, matching slacks, and low-heeled pumps. My minis would be on hiatus until further notice.
Megan and Charli were already at work when I got to Kastein, Inc., making me vow to myself that I was not going to let my alarm snooze thrice starting tomorrow. Hopefully, double snoozes would be enough to have me arriving at work earlier than my superior.
When I got to the office Charli had directed me to, I saw the two other marketing executives she had told me about. My heart sank. One of them was Bottle Blonde. She had on a collared blouse as well, but unbuttoned way, way down to reveal more than an eyeful of her Ds. Next to her, I felt like I had br**sts the size of eggs. Robin eggs, even. Her skirt was way longer than mine, but they had mid-thigh slits at each side, and her legs looked endlessly long with her f**k-me stilettos.
Immediately, I thought of Bottle Blonde coming up to Constantijin in her getup and my heart constricted.
The last one to make up our threesome was George, a g*y Ivy League graduate who seemed to have a fondness for dorky-looking glasses and checkered shirts. I had noticed him in the interview, and he had the same combination on.
George and I smiled at each other. In an instant, I knew we were going to get along fine. Bottle Blonde and I sized each other up unsmilingly. Just as quickly, I knew we were going to be bitter frenemies for life.