The Sheikh And The Redhead

Interview

Kalib

To say I was shocked to my core was definitely an understatement, this slip of a girl obviously didn't know you I was, she didn't swoon at my feet, like all the women before her or was the custom in my country.

Oh if she were in my country I would show her how to respect a man and know her place, but on second thoughts that would probably not be a good idea as my sister Marlena was on the warpath, screaming about women's rights, I dread to think what would happen if those two got together.

And to prove it I shuddered at the thought, but saying that, there was something about that girl, something that made me have carnal urges like never before, I had to sit down because of my physical reaction to her, I couldn't show her how turned on I was by her and her feisty attitude towards me.

Signaling Ahmed one of my trusted bodyguards, I whispered to him to follow the girl and report back to me everywhere she goes today and get a picture to send to Calvin Marks a friend in the CIA as I needed to find out everything about her, I don't know why, I have never done anything like this before.

But this girl and I had unfinished business to take care of and next time I would be prepared.

°°°

Amber

I hate heels, who on god's earth invented the damn things, it had to be a man who had a shoe fetish that's for sure.

I mean come on they should come with a health warning, beware of uneven surfaces, watch out for drains, holes muddy ground, sand, the list goes on, stairs especially coming down them do so at your own peril, heels are programmed to break at the most inconvenient moment.

Men like women to wear them so it makes their legs look good and the only decent thing they do for women is they make a good weapon​.

Anyway I digress, my feet are bloody killing me, I nearly face planted twice, once through a crack in the pavement and the other a drain cover.

But at least I'm standing outside the glass monstrosity baring the name Global Investment Consortium, after checking twice against the letter in my hand, the letter instructing me to appear here, now.

So here I am, waiting to get this over with, shouldn't​ take more than five minutes before they realise I'm a lost cause and as a receptionist I could cause untold damage to the companies reputation, especially if I am to mimic the walking, talking full size Barbie adorning the desk at the present moment.

With the amount of make up she wearing, I can only imagine the false smile on her face is a permanent fixture due to her smiling before her make up set and now she stuck like that till she scrubs it off.

I can imagine guys standing where I am standing now looking down on this woman with a barely there top, sheesh even I can see the washing instructions on her thong when she leans forward, I bet no man has talked to her face to face, if you know what I mean.

"Can I help you?" She enquired in one of those grating whiney loud voices.

"Hi, yes, I'm here for an interview with Mrs Gorman.

"Oh" her face dropped, so I'm not a customer, therefore the megawatt smile is put away and the 'oh your staff then' attitude appears.

Here it comes the, I'm speaking to lowly staff now attitude.

And sure enough.

"Oh sit over there while I check to see if they want you yet"

See what I mean.

Plonking down in one of those semicircular monstrosities of a chair that is hard on the bum and low enough in the back to cripple your kidneys, I grabbed one of those magazines off the low glass table that was dated three years ago, you know the ones, that's it the ones of no interest to anybody that has a brain, not then and certainly not now.

Casually​ flicking through, as you do and stopping at random pages to make it look as though the article was of the greatest interest to me. I checked my watch yet again twenty five minutes I have been sitting here, that fifteen minutes past my interview time.

I bet if I turned up for my job five minutes late there would be hell to pay, but because you are at the top of the tree it doesn't affect you, come on guys I've got better things to do than sit here for hours on end just to be rejected​ from a job I don't want.

"Miss McKenna, Mrs Gorman will see you now, take the lift to the third floor turn left fifth door on your right, knock and wait" came the instructions from the charming receptionist.

Climbing out of that goddamn chair and trying to ease my back by bending and twisting as I made my way to the lift, I could have been polite and thanked the smiling mannequin behind the desk, but she was to busy doing essential maintenance on her makeup, so I didn't bother.

I pressed to summon the lift and as decreed by all elevator manufacturers the elevator should at all times be as far away as possible from the person who requires it, because hey they are not in a hurry to get in and get to their destination before the building crumbles and falls down with age.

Eventually after the lift stopped at every floor on the way down and every floor on the way back up, I got to where I should be and headed to the fifth door on the right to seal my fate.

Stopping outside a frosted glass door that was bigger than it needed to be, I mean Godzilla could fit through it without bending.

I beat a staccato rap on the door and waited.

"Come in" came a muffled male voice.

Strange Mrs Gorman has either had a sex change or was suffering from a really bad asthma attack.

One last check of everything sliding my hands up and down my sides, yep everything in order and where it should be, then turning the knob I push it opens and entered.

And as soon as I set eyes on the only other person in the room, I wish I hadn't bothered​ to get up today.

It was only shake your body or whatever the rich entitled arsehole was called, definitely not Mrs Gorman that's for sure.

Could my day get any worse?