Chapter One - The interview
I woke with a throbbing headache, the kind that pulsed behind my eyes like a warning siren. Sitting up slowly, I immediately regretted every drink I’d had the night before—especially considering I had a job interview today.
Brilliant. Truly brilliant.
I dragged myself into the en-suite bathroom and froze when I saw my reflection. My hair looked like it had tried to escape my head. Dark bags hung beneath my eyes, and my makeup was smeared across my face in tragic, abstract patterns.
And the smell…Dear God.
A cocktail of alcohol, cigarettes, and something that could only be described as rotting despair.
Groaning, I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the shower. I cranked the water to blistering hot and let it pour over me, hoping it would resurrect me from the dead. Shampoo, conditioner, and then a scrub with a loofah that had definitely lived a long, questionable life.
When I finally stepped out, I wrapped a cotton towel around my waist and blow-dried my light-brown hair.
Maybe I should dye it black. A new color, a new me. Or at least a me who didn’t look like he’d crawled out of a dumpster.
Even after all that effort, I still barely resembled a functioning human being.
I shuffled into the kitchen in search of coffee—and stopped dead.
There was a man standing there. A man. In my apartment.
He turned toward me with a slow, easy smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep and raspy.
He was… wow. Tall. Muscular. Tattoos covered both arms. Black hair. Blue eyes.
Sweet baby Jesus.
If I had brought him home, at least my drunk self had impeccable taste.
“Um… morning,” I managed, giving him a once-over, making him chuckle.
“Sorry. You probably don’t remember much.”
I shook my head and poured myself a cup of coffee, letting the scorching liquid burn my mouth. Maybe pain would wake me up.
“Well,” he continued, “you’re quite the wild one.”
“Excuse me?” I nearly choked.
“I’m messing with you.” He raised his hands quickly. “You fell asleep the minute we got here.”
“Oh.” That sounded exactly like me.
“And did we…” I hesitated. “I mean, did you…?”
“What? No!” He looked genuinely offended. “You were passed out. I just slept.”
“Happy to hear that.” I took another sip of coffee before giving him another once-over. “I wouldn’t want to forget that.”
He chuckled and took a sip of his own coffee. He was half-naked. Unfortunately.
I leaned against the counter, my eyes never leaving his face—and his eyes never leaving mine.
“So…” He took a step closer, and I could feel the tension building between us. “Would you like to finish what we started?”
His hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. Of course I wanted to. But—
“I have a job interview in forty minutes,” I replied, taking a reluctant step backward.
“Oh…” He cleared his throat, and suddenly everything became very awkward. “I have a job interview too, actually.”
“Really? Where?”
“Nova Home.”
My eyes almost popped out of my head.
“No way! Me too.” I couldn't help laughing. “Hopefully, I’ll be the next executive assistant to the CEO.”
He approached me again, placing his hands on my hips. He was so close that I could feel his erection through his boxers. And wow.
“Well, I’ll see you there, hm?” he murmured. He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing beneath my ear. “And we could finish what we started.”
A shiver ran through me. Goosebumps spread across my skin at the slightest touch. Before I could say anything, he chuckled and released me from his embrace.
Please, come back.
He stepped away and made his way toward the bedroom.
“Have a good interview, love.”
By the time I finished my coffee and put on my black suit, he was already gone.
No number. No social media. I didn’t even remember his name.
Was it Mark?
Was it something I couldn’t pronounce?
I eventually stopped wondering what his name was—or what might have happened between us—and left the apartment.
I got on the bus. Thankfully, there was a bus stop only five minutes down the sidewalk. The sun was bright, which made my hangover considerably worse.
The bus was packed with all kinds of people with all kinds of smells. Someone was arguing on the phone, another person was sleeping, and a third was crying. Just another morning.
Fifteen minutes later, I got off the bus. I had ten minutes before the interview.
I walked across the street, and there it was.
Nova Home.
A massive glass skyscraper with fifty floors, two hundred and fifty offices, six hundred employees, twelve members of the board, and one CEO.
A CEO I desperately hoped to work for.
The money was good. Very good.
So was the competition.
The interview was taking place on the forty-ninth floor. I learned that after showing my documents and interview invitation to the model-like receptionist in the lobby.
Everyone here seemed to be rushing toward something, dressed in expensive suits and polished shoes. Compared to them, I looked as if I’d just crawled out of a dumpster.
I stepped into the elevator with several other people heading to different floors.
When I pressed the button for forty-nine, the woman standing beside me murmured something that sounded suspiciously like:
“Good luck.”
Then she looked me up and down.
Well. There went the confidence I’d been faking.
The ride up seemed painfully slow. For a moment, I thought I was going to miss the interview. Thankfully, I arrived two minutes early.
Another receptionist led me to the waiting room, where I sat on a chair across from a set of enormous glass doors. Through them, I could see several people sitting around a large conference table.
My hands started shaking. I could feel sweat gathering beneath my collar. I was nervous.
But nervousness wasn't going to get me this job. I had to pull my s**t together. I took a slow breath and tried to focus.
Instead, my thoughts immediately returned to the man from this morning. I wondered if I would see him around here.
Maybe he was already upstairs.
Maybe—
“Alexander Reed?”
I looked up. A short but toned man wearing an expensive suit had stepped out of what was probably the conference room. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched. I swallowed and stood.
“Yes?”
“You’re up.”
He stepped aside and gestured toward the door. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, and walked inside.
The room was much larger than it had looked from the outside. Nine people were sitting around the table. Men and women. Every single one of them looked expensive. The man gestured toward another door and opened it for me.
Wait. So I didn't have to interview in front of all of them?
Thank God.
Their judging faces alone probably would have made me forget my own name.
I walked through the door. It led into an office overlooking the city.
A large white desk stood near the windows on the other side of the room. There were several shelves along the walls, while a leather couch, coffee table, and two armchairs occupied the center. There was another chair positioned directly in front of the desk.
The man who had brought me inside left the room.
For a moment, I stood there awkwardly. Then I noticed someone sitting behind the desk and took a few steps closer.
“Good morning. My name is Alexander Reed, and I’m here for the interview.”
For a moment, the man didn't respond. Then he sighed, as though he was already exhausted from interviewing people.
“Take a seat.” His voice was deep and demanding.
I sat down and clasped my hands together in my lap, trying to gather whatever remained of the fake confidence I'd walked in with.
Finally, the man leaned back in his chair. I got my first proper look at him. He was handsome in an older, distinguished sort of way, with faint wrinkles around his eyes and greyish hair.
For a brief moment, I thought I'd seen him somewhere before.
“Brian Richwood,” he introduced himself gruffly. Even his name had rich in it. “You have three minutes to convince me why I should hire you.”
And right then and there…
I forgot who I was.
