Blackstone Inc. (Book 1)

Part 3

My jaw almost grazed the floor. This man is the ‘Blackstone’ of this company? Jesus, no wonder he radiated dominance.

Clasping my perfectly manicured fingers on my lap, I looked out the floor to ceiling windows. I suddenly felt like a child as his eyes stayed on me.

“Genevieve, where are you from?”

I turned and looked at him,” A small town outside of New Orleans, Louisiana, sir. How’d you know I wasn’t from here?”

He leaned back in his chair and smirked, “Because you had no idea who I was.”

He was somewhat a celebrity here in Dallas. I had heard his name on the radio talking about the stocks or something but never had seen a photo of him. I might not have come to this interview if I knew who it was for, to be honest.

He looked down at his papers for a few seconds and then pushed his chair away from his desk and moved to stand in front of me while he leaned his backside against the desk.

“How old are you, Genevieve?”

“I’m 22, sir.”

His eyebrows rose.

Shït, I hope he didn’t think that just because I’m young that means I’m incompetent.

“You’re a little young. You think you could keep up with my busy schedule?”

I could probably keep up with your schedule better than you could, honestly.

“I think so, sir. I am a really fast learner, I’m a hard worker and I’ve got an exceptional work ethic.”

He smiled and then walked behind me and I heard a clinking sound coming from across the room a few seconds later.

“I took a look at your resume this morning before you got here and it’s quite impressive, Genevieve. Party city girl goes to a college but drops out a year before she graduates? You were majoring in business. What happened to make you come all the way here?”

I kept my back to him and shut my eyes, digging my nails into the palms of my hands.

“Can I skip that question, sir? It’s a bit of a sore subject for me at the moment. Sorry,” my voice lowered as the sentence finished.

He was silent for a moment but then I heard his footsteps at the back of the room again.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you, sir?”

There was a pause and I started to think that he wouldn't answer but then I heard, "35.”

“A whole company at the young age of 35? I couldn’t even begin to imagine all you’ve had to sacrifice to be this successful.”

He came to sit beside me in the chair to my left and studied me for a moment while taking a sip of an amber colored liquor.

It seemed a little early in the day to be drinking already, but I could only assume the stresses this job held.

“You don’t think I’m too old?”

I looked him in the eyes, searching, surely he couldn’t mean... I looked at the hand in his lap and found that it’s absent of any rings.

“Too old for...?” I let the question ask itself.

He smiled, cleared his throat and then took another sip, “Nothing. So you would like to be my personal assistant? You’d work when I’m working, fetch my paperwork, lunch, drinks if I so chose. You’d take my phone calls and be in charge of organizing my schedule. You’d accompany me on any business trips or lunches I take whether it be near or far. Would your boyfriend be okay with this?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, sir. I actually live alone, so all of that would be fine with me. I really appreciate you even giving me a chance.”

“Alright, Genevieve,” he stood up and I took it as I should as well.

We are almost chest to chest or rather, head to neck as I had to look up at him. I started to back up and forgot that there was a chair behind me so I began to fall back but he quickly reached out to catch me with an arm around my waist and one around my shoulder.

My right-hand clung to his side and my left to his bicep and if I didn’t feel like this interview was a little personal before, I did now.

Our faces were far closer than they should be. I felt my face flush again and noticed that he hadn’t let go yet.

I looked into his dark honey colored eyes and let a shallow breath escape my lips.

He looked down at me for a few seconds more and then finally stepped back. I righted myself and tried to regain what composure -- and dignity-- I had left.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 7, Genevieve.” His face was void of any emotion.

I looked up at him one more time,” Yes, sir. I’ll be here.” I breathed out.

I walked out of the room and into the entryway and I stopped to look at my reflection in the mirror.

My face was flushed and there were a few hairs out of place, but other than that I still saw the same girl who had no idea what today would have had in store for her but surely didn’t think she would meet the most intense man in the world.