My mouth dropped open a bit as I walked through the entrance of Sinn Enterprises' corporate office, taking in the vaulted ceilings and marbled flooring. I saw the receptionist smile at me, and walked forward, my stilettos clicking on the tile. I clutched her folder to my chest.
"Can I help you?" The ridiculously beautiful blond asked pleasantly.
"H-hi." I say, cursing in my head at the stutter. "Hi," I say more firmly. "My name is Evelyn Raleigh. I'm here for an interview with Mr. Sinn."
She nods. "Of course. He is expecting you. If you want to head on up to the 23rd floor and take a seat in the lobby, I'll let him know you're here." She pointed at the elevator to my right, and I smiled back at her.
"Thank you." I said, and turned my back, walking to the elevator. I took a deep breath and pressed the top button, the doors closing with a clang of finality.
I was 24 years old, fresh out of college with my Bachelor's in Business Administration, and had been having trouble finding a job in the seven months since graduation. I couldn't figure out why; I was certainly qualified, I always aced my interviews, and, to be honest, I was gorgeous. Why no one wanted to hire me on was beyond me. This was my last chance; if I didn't get this job, I would lose my apartment and end up back on my parents' farm. James Sinn was one of the country's up-and-coming business stars, a billionaire, and the city's most eligible bachelor. And he was looking for a personal secretary. It would be a blow to my pride to take the position—a secretary after years of sweat and blood and sleepless nights going to school—but I really, really did not want to go back to spend my days milking cows and cleaning horse stalls. The elevator dinged, and opened, revealing a spectacular sight. Two walls were almost entirely window, looking out over the city and the bay. Most of the floor was taken over by a huge lobby, with couches and a coffee table, and a kitchenette on one side with a fancy espresso machine and a table covered with an array of fruits, vegetables, tiny sandwiches and Danishes. There were three rooms on the other side of the floor, two larger ones, side by side, with blinds over the windows and closed doors, and another that ended up being a restroom.
I darted inside, closing the door behind me and setting the folder down on the counter. I took a deep breath. "Okay, Evelyn, you can do this." I encouraged, then looked at my reflection. I freshened my lipstick and dabbed away a smudge from my eyeliner. I was no longer above using my appearance to sway people into liking me—I was desperate. I had dressed up for this interview, wearing a high-waisted black pencil skirt that clung to me like a second skin and stopped an inch above my knees, a crimson button-up shirt tucked into it, and black satin stockings following my legs to my crimson patent-leather stiletto pumps. I had even worn my sexiest lingerie underneath, to make myself feel sexier—the stockings held up by a black lacy garter belt, with a matching black lace over crimson silk bra and panty set. Narrowing my eyes, I unbuttoned the top of my shirt, reaching in to adjust my bra so that my breasts were perfectly positioned, and redid the buttons. Pausing, I undid the top button again, letting the shirt hang open slightly, just the hint of cleavage peeping out, a tease. I turned my attention to my hair. I had curled it so that it fell in silky auburn waves down to the small of my back, two tiny braids holding it back away from my face while my side bangs swooped down to brush my cheek bones. There. Now I was ready.
I stepped back out of the restroom, and froze. He was there, waiting for me. James Sinn. My breath caught for a moment. He was by far the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. He wore black slacks, an off-white button-down, and a black suit coat. His eyes were a piercing green, his lips full and sinful. The way his clothes clung to him told me he was muscular. I imagined him shirtless, as I had seen in pictures of him online, and knew he had firm pecs and washboard abs. Then, for an instant, I imagined myself running my tongue along those abs, and had to mentally shake myself, rubbing my thighs together.
"I apologize if I kept you." I said, stepping forward. "My name is Evelyn Raleigh. I am here to interview for the position of your secretary." Without a word, he jerked his head toward what had to be his office, turning and walking through it purposefully. I followed quickly.
"Close the door," He said. I was still for a second; his voice was deep and rich and smooth and sexy, and it made my toes curl in my heels. I closed the door, and glanced around. There he sat behind a large dark oak desk. "Sit." He ordered, eyes flicking toward the high-backed chair before the desk before returning to me. I felt his eyes raking my body, undressing me just as much as I had him a moment ago, and stepped confidently forward, sitting gracefully. He was silent, elbows on the desk with his fingers steepled, studying me. "Evelyn Raleigh." He rolled my name around in his mouth, as if tasting it. "Your resumé stated you graduated Suma Cum Laude from one of the best colleges in the country with your BBA, have a perfect work history as well as a 3.8 GPA. I spoke with the head of the company you interned for Freshman year, and they assured me you were the model employee, and would be asset to anyone who hired you." I smiled at the praise. I had liked working for the company; I had been confused, though, when they did not hire me after graduation. "Why, then, would you be applying for the position of secretary, when you are qualified to be so much more?" he asked bluntly.
I frowned, crossing my legs. "My biggest problem has been experience. I had a job as a receptionist for my uncle during the summers when I was in high school; besides that, the only work experience I've had was at that company as an intern. These days, school doesn't mean nearly as much as it used to." I said almost bitterly. "My education could only help me in this position, being able to understand the workings of the company so that I would not need to ask you extraneous questions and waste your time. It would also give me additional experience should I seek employment elsewhere after a time."
"I see." He said. There was another silence. "You do have the experience that this position requires, and you are correct; it would be easier for me to hire someone with your expertise then someone without a business background." He considered it. "Why then did you choose this company, out of the many in the city?"
