How I Tamed The Billionaire Playboy

Chapter 3

Now, after two months had passed, I was beginning to feel anxious. If I didn't get this job, I would be in a lot of trouble. I really need the money. As a result, I was more resolved than ever to make this interview the best one I've ever done.

I had timed the travel from my apartment to the skyscraper in Manhattan where Creovation was located six times, but it didn't stop my heart from racing anxiously as I left my apartment and struggled towards the subway station in Manhattan. I was only need to wait a short while in order to board a train, thank goodness. I took advantage of the fact that the car was blissfully free of passengers in the middle of the day to lay my cheek against the window and thought about how it would be to make my first commute, given that I was successful in obtaining the job.

When I visited Creovation, I discovered that their offices were even more stunning in reality than they appeared on their posh website. Everything was sleek and contemporary, including the chrome, glass, and stainless steel. In addition to this, everyone present had the appearance of a model. Seeing all of these beautiful individuals swarming about me simply gave an additional element of fear to my already apprehensive self. I'd been expecting some overweight females like myself and a few dowdy men in old suits, but seeing all of these lovely people instead added an extra layer of dread.

Even the receptionist was stunning to look at. She had her hair styled to perfection, and her fingernails were painted pink. She was excitedly pounding away at a brand new computer. Even after I had been standing in front of her desk for over five minutes, she did not so much as cast a glance in my direction.

"Hello," I greeted with some trepidation. I'm sorry, but do I have an interview?

The blonde smirked. Her blue eyes had a cold and distant expression in them. "Do you?" Her tone may be both charming and caustic at the same time. "Are you certain in your assertion?"

I clenched my teeth when I noticed that the apples of my cheeks were turning blazing crimson. "Yes," I responded, attempting to seem more confident than I actually was. "I do. Together with Marcus"

The blonde rolled her eyes, then continued tapping away at her keyboard while briefly returning her focus to the display on her computer. “Name?”

"Jane Perkins."

The blonde tapped out some text on the keyboard, and as she finished, she joyfully hit the "enter" key. After printing off a nametag sticker, she gave it to me to put on my bag.

She indicated the area directly over her left breast as she instructed, "You have to wear this on your chest, right here." "Until such time as you comply with the rules, you will not be permitted to enter the offices."

I swallowed. I knew that if I did that, it would ruin the lines of my suit and leave glue all over the new cloth, but I still wanted to protest. But I could tell that the blonde wasn't joking around, so I eventually pulled the sticker off of the wax paper backing and attached it to the back of my jacket.

The blonde informed me that would be ascending to the 35th floor in the elevator. "Those elevators are located over there on the left." She yawned and sounded uninterested and bored. "I hope everything works out for you," she wished, adding "Good luck."

I gave her a grin and nodded my head. "Thanks," I said. I stepped up to the elevator bank while my heart was pounding in my chest, and I pushed the button to call the elevator.

It seemed like we were in that elevator for an eternity before we reached floor 35. When the doors slid open and I stepped into the opulent lobby with the thick grey carpeting, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. This lobby, in contrast to the one located downstairs, was tastefully adorned with works of art, such as vases that gave the impression that they were crafted by members of an ancient African tribe.

"Hello, Jane?" A bubbly brunette grabbed my elbow before I could provide a response, and then she hurried me into a corridor of the Alfred building. "Hello, my name is Amy, and I work with Marcus and Christian. Today, you will be meeting with only Marcus because I'm sorry to say that Christian is out of the office."

Her upbeat tone did little to ease the anxious feelings I was experiencing.

"Thank you," I managed to mumble while forcing a smile. "Thank you so much for your help."

Amy radiated joy. She gestured in the direction of the entrance to a meeting room. "Go ahead," she said. "You'll find him waiting for you inside."

I took a few calm breaths, mumbled a quick prayer, and then walked in to face whatever was in store for me.

Marcus was currently occupying the chair that was located at the head of the Alfred conference table. I entered the room while maintaining an anxious smile.

Marcus greeted Jane with a friendly "Hello, Jane." "Please have a seat in this area." He pointed to the seats that were immediately adjacent to him. He was a likable-looking man in his late middle age, with silver hair, horn-rimmed spectacles, and dark eyes. He was also a pleasant conversationalist. Despite the fact that he was smiling, I could see that he was quite intent on what he was saying. Instantaneously, my breathing became shallow and rapid, and I noticed that my palms were beginning to sweat from nervousness.

I apologized for my error. "I'm sorry, I'm just nervous," the speaker said. My stomach turned, and I immediately wished I hadn't repeated myself.

The grin returned to Marcus's face. "Relax, Jane," he murmured. "You can put your guard down; I won't bite."

I gave a sheepish grin and eased myself into an overstuffed leather chair. I was so nervous that my hands shook as I handed them a copy of my résumé.

Marcus responded with a "Thank you" He held the paper in his hands and cast a glance below. "Penn State, huh? It was visited by my son. Fantastic institution"

I nodded. I remarked in a hushed tone, "That was really enjoyable."

"So, Jane, what are some things about you that you can share with me?" Marcus pulled out a notepad and pen, then slanted the pad toward his body so that I couldn't see what he was writing.

I responded by saying that I had recently graduated from college with a double major in business and accounting. "With honors all four years," according to the motto "magna c*m laude."

Marcus nodded. "And what makes you think that working for Creovation would be a good fit for you?"

I exclaimed to the person who I was with, "It's a great organization." "I know that many of your employees go on to have amazing and Alfred fulfilling careers as a result of working for your company because it is consistently included in the Fortune 500. Not to mention the fact that your consulting firm is widely regarded as the most reputable in all of New York."

Marcus nodded. I sincerely hoped that he wouldn't notice that my response was lifted verbatim from the frequently asked questions area of the Creovation website. To tell you the truth, I felt the same way, but sometimes it was simpler to just tell them stuff they were already aware of.

Marcus congratulated me "good answer." He peered down at me from above. "Jane, what are some of your favorite things to do?"

"What are my concerns?" Marcus's acknowledgement caused my voice to crack, and I immediately flushed red.

“Yes.”

I responded by saying, "Well, I really enjoy reading." Oh, and imbibing in vino while spending quality time with my closest companion, Susan. But I'm a pretty quiet person. Going out isn't actually one of my favorite things to do. I enjoy working hard and taking pride in my job."

Marcus let out a giggle. He told me, "Well, if we do conclude that you are the perfect person for this role, you won't have nearly as much free time as you do now," implying that she would have less leisure time. "Do you have any questions for me?"

I nodded. "I noticed on the job posting that this position requires some administrative work in addition to some copywriting. Could you perhaps explain that to me using a percentage breakdown?

Marcus laughed once again, and I couldn't help but press my fingernails into my palms as he was laughing. Despite the fact that he was being polite to me, my anxiety was about to erupt into a boiling cauldron of terror as it hit the ceiling.

"Well, Jane, I'm sorry to tell you that I can't. If I had to speculate, I would think that the majority of the work will be administrative in nature. We'll get you started off with one or two writing projects per week to begin with."

"Oh," I said. I made an effort to grin, but it was difficult. I'd been looking for something that wasn't just a higher-paying version of a secretary job for a while.

"However," said Marcus after a little pause. If we determine that you have potential as a business writer, we will outsource the completion of those administrative responsibilities so that you can focus nearly entirely on your writing. Does that seem acceptable to you?

I nodded pleasantly.

The door to the conference room suddenly swung open just as Marcus was ready to resume his previous speech. I was anticipating the presence of Amy, the bubbly brunette, but instead an older gentleman with white hair and a flushed face barged into the room. He smashed a hand full of papers onto the polished table while simultaneously making a fist with one of his hands.

The man grumbled to Marcus, "I need a moment," and then left the room. It appeared that he was completely oblivious to the fact that I was even present in the room. "This is a really significant point."

Marcus cast a quick look in my direction. His eyes were bulging out of his head in fear. He responded with "Right" "Jane, would you mind if I asked you to wait in the lobby?"