Part 2
676 Words
My stomach knotted up more and more as the floors flew by. I took my compact out of my purse and glanced over my make up one more time and applied a little more powder to my T zone just in case and returned it back to my bag.
The elevator stopped at floor 25 with a cheerful *DING* and an automated voice came over the speaker and asked for an entry code.
I typed in the code and the doors opened up to reveal a beautiful porcelain tile entryway with bubble style mirrors on the right wall and a gorgeous waterfall painting on the left with a small mahogany table holding a vase full of white tulips.
There was an extravagant looking chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the way it sparkled in the mid-morning sun was breathtaking.
I was sure I hadn't even seen half of this office and I was already highly intimidated.
“Come in,” A stern voice instructed and I stepped my feet into gear.
“S-sorry sir, I was just admiring-” My words cut off as I rounded the corner and saw a beautiful dark-brown haired man sitting behind a huge mahogany desk.
′Holy beard′ my goddess assessed.
He had a nice, full-sized beard accompanied by a mustache. Along with his rather gorgeous face, his muscles were quite literally bulging out of the arms of his suit.
He was scribbling on a piece of paper so I couldn’t see his eyes but I bet they were a beautiful color.
I took a deep breath trying to calm my racing heart and tried to regain my composure and started again,” I’m here for the interview,” I said in a low voice, highly intimidated by this God of a man.
I stood about halfway between the desk and the door as I waited for him to finally acknowledge me.
“Well, go on then. Sit down in one of the two chairs I’ve got here. Don’t just stand there in the middle of my floor as if you’ve never been to an interview before,” He said before finally looking up at me.
He watched my every step and I saw his eyes rake down my body and then back up again.
My inner goddess was thanking me for choosing this outfit. ′Very good choice′ she purred.
I was loving the way his eyes follow the curve of my hips, over my stomach and up to my breasts.
I finally took a seat in one of the porcelain leather chairs and crossed my right leg over the left, knowing that the slit on my thigh was bringing attention to my legs.
We sat in silence for a moment, both looking for the other to say something, but this is his office so I would wait for him.
Just from the few sentences he had said I was already getting a taste of his dominant personality and I loved it.
“Well?” He raised an eyebrow.
What?
′The fück does that mean?'
“Um...” I breathe out, confused.
He sighed, dragging his hand through his short hair, "What is your name?”
I felt flush and stumbled over my own name,” G-Genevieve Carlyle but please call me Gen, sir.” I said a little more clearly.
He put the tip of his pen between his teeth and took a moment before he stated, “I’ll call you Genevieve if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, sir.”
Suddenly, I realized I had no idea what his name was. He had to be a higher-up if I needed a code to get to his office.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't catch your name," I blushed because I felt like that was the one thing I needed to know before the interview.
“Well, I’m Dominic Blackstone, but you can call me Dom or sir.”
- Writer
