Cheers To My Beautiful

Chapter 43: Interesting

"You are so dead," I mouthed to him secretly.

"Fuck me," he mouthed back. I rolled my angry eyes away. Manipulative bastard.

Aaron's standpoint

"Mr. Skye, your two o'clock is here," my secretary said through the intercom. I groaned with frustration.

"Another one? I thought I had interviewed them all already!"

"You have seven more, sir, should I send her in?"

"Yes, send all seven in—"

"Sir?"

"You heard me right, send all seven in so I can tell them to get lost. So far, the interview is for seduction, not work. Please send them in already!"

"Alright," he disconnected the call. I blame the guys for this, convincing me that a female PA was what I needed to spice up my interest in women. According to them, office romance was a thing and could work out. I would do anything to prove to them and myself that I am not gay, anything at all.

Reacting to Mordecai's woman was a start, but she was taken. It was a sign that I just needed the right hot woman to turn me on and if possible, make me fall in love with her. I needed a girlfriend, I needed the love and affection that came with them and of course, the sex. Staying like that was becoming more frustrating. Too bad it was a horrible idea, none had picked my interest so far. Just succeed in irritating me. I already turned down the elevator code so all they had to do was drag their worthless self in. I went back to work as I waited for them.

A few minutes later, I heard heels, whore heels. I raised my head and watched them all troop in. Brunette, brunette, brunette, another brunette, blonde, blonde… Red? My eyes remained on the last one, a redhead. I had finally come to terms with the fact that I have a thing for redheads, that was why I reacted to Autumn. This one, however, was more orange than red but still the same thing.

She wore a very loose flared floral dress, one sweeping the floor around her feet. It was proper for an interview but it sure did look good on her. The dress hid her body properly, it was long-sleeved. Her hair was tightly locked in a neat bun, she had no makeup on. She didn't even look like she was dressing up for an interview. But beautiful was not enough to describe her.

"What are you wearing?" I blurted out puzzledly. She looked at herself, then back at me, and shrugged.

"Dress, why?" Her voice added to her cuteness. She had a very light voice, really light but pleasant to the ears. No doubt she would be a soprano or mezzo-soprano singer. Or maybe even lighter. That's if she can sing.

"Aren't you supposed to be wearing something more appropriate?"

"Trust me, honey, if I'd worn the so-called "cooperate" clothing, we wouldn't be having this normal conversation. I believe I can wow you with my skills, not my dress style. All I need is the chance." She spoke indifferently like she would rather be somewhere else than here. Her nonchalance was fascinating and the only one I had seen so far.

"Alright. I'm going to ask some simple questions, all you have to do is answer one after the other. Then after that, I will give you all a test, separate tests, is that okay?" Not that they have a choice.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. First question, what are your names?"

"L-Lesley S-Shawn,"

"Fallon Mitchell,"

"J-Jennifer O'BRIEN,"

"Martha, Martha Wells,"