Watch Me

Madison
“Madison Harris, here to interview at Morrigan Technology Group.” I manage to get that out without so much as a tremor of desperation in my voice. This is my fourth interview since graduation out of fifty resumes sent. If I don’t find something soon, I’ll be forced to move back to my parents’ farm and give up my dream of living and thriving in New York City.
The woman working at the front desk gives me a once over before pressing a button and holding her finger over her earpiece. “A Madison Harris is here.” A brief pause. The woman looks me over again. “Yes.”
Shit, did I do a button wrong? I check my white blouse’s buttons are done properly and that my pencil skirt hasn’t rotated around. Sure, the button on my blouse is a little strained over my breasts, but if I want it to fit everywhere else, that’s the way it has to be. I can’t afford to buy all new clothes or have them tailored. Yet.
Someday, yes. Right now, I’m lucky I have enough money to buy a subway pass for next month.
I double check my heels are the same color. Never again will I buy the same pair in both black and navy. Both shoes are currently black. Everything looks fine, so what was that look about?
“I’ll send her right up.” The woman gives me a plastic grin and holds out a swipeable card. “Go to the far elevator. You’ll use this to access the top floor. Make sure to return it to me when you leave.”
“Thank you.” I take the card and head toward the elevator. There are several elevators with bunches of people getting on and off, but no one else stands at the one she told me to go to. I take a deep breath and press the button.
I glance toward the lobby with all the people coming and going. A brief spark of excitement races through me. I could be one of these people. Heading to work. Going out with the girls after work for a drink at the bar on the other side of the lobby.
Of course, I’d need to find girls to go with, but that shouldn’t be hard. In a company this size, there should be plenty of women my age or a little older who don’t mind hanging out with a twenty-two-year-old. The elevator arrives and the doors open.
This is it. I swipe the card, and the elevator heads up. I can do this. I can get this job. Sure, my experience is a little lacking, but that’s why I need a job. God, I hope I get this job.
Of all the postings I applied to this is the one I hoped I’d get an interview for. The company is a cyber security company that works with all the top businesses in the city. This job is working with the top executives as their executive assistant, but there’s so much more to it. It could be the training ground I need to help me get to the next level.
The elevator dings its arrival. When the doors open, I try to swallow my awe. It’s gorgeous. This floor drips with elegance, purpose, and structure. Glass, dark wood, and marble fill the space.
I step forward onto the marble tile. My heels clicking on the surface are the only sound. A desk is situated in the center of a semi-circle of four offices with a conference room along one side. The door to the conference room is open, and I can see the tops of the surrounding buildings out the windows.
Straight to the top. A little rush goes through me.
“Ms. Harris.” A deep voice resonates down my spine and makes me turn. My gaze lands on a well-built chest wrapped in a suit that fits his body to perfection. Tipping my head back, I lift my gaze to his clean-shaven, strong jaw, full lips lifted in a friendly smile, aristocratic nose, light blue eyes accented by long black eyelashes, and dark hair perfectly styled in a bun. He’s beautiful.
A pulse of heat kicks through my system, making me forget what he just asked me. I’m so screwed if I work for this guy. Every piece of paper will have drool on it, and I’ll have to train myself not to stare at him as if he could be my last meal.
He holds out his hand, and I snap out of it. I need this job. I brace myself for when our hands touch, but bracing isn’t enough. Swallowing, I manage to thwart the gasp that tries to escape at the desire that pools low and heavy in my belly. I force my lips up into a smile.
His dark eyebrow lifts and his smile ratchets up to gigawatt brilliance, that should be illegal. “I’m Cooper Graham, the Chief Technical Officer.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” My heart kicks up a notch as I try not to say more than that and release his hand. My brain keeps teetering around pleasure and those gorgeous lips. Something positively stupid is bound to slip out of my lips with this god of a man before me.
He holds his hand out toward the conference room. “If you’ll come with me.”
I most definitely would love to come with him, on him, for him. Fortunately, he turns away, giving me a moment to draw a ragged breath, and I follow him into the conference room.