Just Business

Chapter 2 - The Interview from Hell

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“My name, I go by Nora. Lenora sounds like a librarian.” I felt stupid as I spoke the words, but he didn’t seem to notice my hesitance.

“So you got an associates in Business Administration and Marketing?” He changed the subject. “Why just the associates?”

“I wanted to start my career as soon as possible.” I responded quickly. He didn’t need to know the details of my difficult past. “I felt like I learned everything I could in the two year program.” I added, hoping that it sounded better than my impatience. My knee began to involuntarily gently shake.

“Why Business Administration and Marketing?”

“I wanted a job working for a leading industry company where I knew I could succeed.” I mentally checked off the list of facts I had made last night.

“No work history to speak of other than a cashier at CostCo?” He said the word with disgust and I straightened my back. I had worked as a cashier through high school, saving every penny I could to go to college. I was proud that I was the only freshman that had a full time job and still got straight A’s, but I guess my tenacity wasn’t something worthwhile to the great Cassidy Beckett.

“Customer Service Representative.” I corrected and smirked when he quirked an eyebrow. “Also, I worked in the office of a small car dealership for 6 years while I was in high school and college.”

“I don’t see it listed.” He looked down at the paper again.

“They closed.” I said quickly, hoping to end the conversation. My eyes flickered for a moment, betraying my cool composure, but he did not ask me any other questions regarding my job history. Instead he watched my throat as I gulped down my nervousness, his eyes travelled from my lips down to my collarbone, which was barely exposed by the blouse.

“Why do you think I should hire you?” He leant back then, tossing my resume back unto the table. He hands came to sit on his stomach, fingers entwined with each other. He seemed done with the interview and was just asking me as a formality. I could tell he already had made his decision not to hire me. So instead of giving the perfectly practiced speech I had prepared the night before, I told him the truth.

“Ok, so I don’t have any experience working some company on Wall Street. But I am a hard worker. I show up when I have to, ready to do the job, whichever it may be. You don’t need someone who is experienced; you need someone who is desperate. Someone who needs this job more than they need anything else. Your expectations are unrealistic for any normal person, but, lucky for you, I am not normal, Mr. Beckett. I can be wherever you need me to be, whatever time of day or night. I learn fast and –“ he held up his hand stopping my rant and leant forward.

“What happened to your eye?” He squinted, looking at the faint bruise on my face and changing the subject entirely.

“Nothing that will effect how I do my job.” I said, my voice steel. “I’m here aren’t I?” I added. I almost slapped myself. I really just gave one of the richest men in the world, and possibly my future boss, my notorious attitude. He didn’t flinch as I spoke but stayed silent. A few moments passed, icy glares were exchanged, and I stood, frustrated.

“Thank you for your time Mr. Beckett.” I said, taking long angry strides to the door. Before I could open it, however, he was standing next to me, holding the door shut.

I glanced up under my dark lashes. We were so close I could smell the mint and sweet coffee on his breath. His eyes pierced my own and he spoke. “Ms. Strong, I have never had anyone walk out on me before, ever.” His voice was deadly as he spoke. I felt goose bumps on my arms. I could tell I had just made a grave mistake. I mean, this was one of the only people in the world who could afford to hire a hit man and hide my body somewhere under the Hudson.