Seven weeks had passed since Mikayla had been fired.
As a result, she had been forced to move back into her parents' home in Northampton, as she was no longer in a position to pay her rent, or anything else for that matter.
Mikayla had been applying to jobs, but had not had much luck. The stigma of Mr. Northefielde's shady business dealings and his pending court date was like a stain on her résumé. Seeing as that was the only work experience she had acquired to date, finding a new job was proving to be most difficult, even though the authorities had cleared her of any involvement.
"I really think that it's time to ask Monsieur Asshole for a job," Hannah said, in a fake French accent.
The two young women were currently watching Netflix while eating popcorn. Mikayla was lounging in her best friend's apartment, located in Peckham, and Hannah's comment nearly made her choke.
Mikayla shook her head as she laughed, "His name is Arnauld!"
"Tomato tomahtoe, same thing! I mean, I get that Mr. Northefielde messed up, but to send home so many employees without any sort of compensation is just cruel," Hannah fumed, as she grabbed more popcorn from the bowl.
"Well you know what they say, it's just business," Mikayla's voice took on a professional tone.
Hannah sighed, "But seriously Miks, what do you have to lose? You've been job-hunting for weeks! Can't be in a worse position than you are now, right?"
"I guessssss..." Mikayla exhaled.
"Besides, it's like I told you before, smile and shake that titillating ass in front of him, you know he wouldn't be able to resist those lovely curves of yours." Hannah teased, as she raised her eyebrows playfully.
"Oh my god, you! Always so nasty! Stop trying to pimp me out!" Mikayla griped and threw some popcorn in Hannah's direction.
————— ▲ —————
The next day Mikayla found herself dressed in a tan-coloured pants suit standing outside the tall and elegant headquarters of Arnauld Tech Corporation, located in London's Central Business District. She waited patiently and tried not to feel self-conscious, as people glanced at her while they entered the building.
She began to feel uneasy, her stance shifting slightly, her black heels making light scraping sounds as she dragged her feet. Mikayla idly pulled a curl over her shoulder and played with her hair that she had slicked back into a puffy ponytail. It was then that she noticed a black Rolls Royce Phantom pulling up, and out stepped Mr. Damien Arnauld, looking like a million dollars in a dark blue 3-piece business suit.
Mikayla fixed her handbag strap on her shoulder before quickly walking over to approach Damien; two men suddenly came out of nowhere blocking her path as she yelled, "Mr. Arnauld, a word please!"
Damien looked at his watch and ran a hand through his hair. He did not stop walking as he headed towards the glass doors, "Follow me," he said while barely glancing in her direction.
Shaking her arm out of one of the man's grip, she hissed, "Like seriously! You can't just manhandle people in any way that you feel!"
Letting out an exasperated huff, she looked at the bodyguards and narrowed her eyes. Their hold had reminded her of how she had been restrained by the police during the altercation at Northefielde Elements Inc.
Refocusing her thoughts, she turned to follow Damien into the building, hurrying behind him as he entered what seemed to be a private elevator.
As the doors closed, Mikayla opened her mouth to speak. At the same time, Damien's iPhone rang. He instantly held up a finger to her lips, silencing her as he answered his call, ignoring her the rest of the way.
Mikayla's eyes opened widely before they crossed to focus on Damien's finger as it lay firmly pressed against her lips. Glaring up at him, she could not believe that he just shushed her as though she were a child.
Infuriated, she was just about to spit his finger away when it was suddenly gone.
The elevator doors opened soon after, and Mikayla was ushered through a hallway, then into his office. She was then pushed to sit in one of the comfortable black leather chairs that were situated in front of his huge dark mahogany desk.
With his back facing her, Damien stood near the windows while he continued to talk on his phone.
Mikayla took this opportunity to observe his office. It was large and sleekly decorated, massive windows lined the wall to her left, giving an amazing view of the city.
Beyond the large mahogany desk, there was a textured, cream-coloured wall partition with book shelves on each side. Behind her, to the far side of the office, was a dark leather couch and two burgundy single seats where an elegant glass coffee table sat in the centre.
Damien's deep voice pulled Mikayla out of her observation.
"To what do I owe the pleasure this morning, Ms. Moss? You have 2 minutes, go," he said, as he walked around and leaned against the front of his desk. His gaze roamed over her appearance before staring into her eyes.
Frowning at him, Mikayla's brown eyes held Damien's intense aquamarine stare, the yellow fragments that lined around his iris threatening to distract her.
"Well, thanks to you I'm out of a job so–"
"I think you mean thanks to your inept former boss, who is currently under serious investigation and facing jail for fraud and embezzlement," Damien interjected.
Mikayla's scowl got even more intense as she gritted her teeth, her hands clenched on her lap as she continued where she left off, "I'm out of a job and no one is willing to hire me at the moment due to the backlash with Mr. Northefielde so..." She paused briefly and took a deep breath before asking, "Do you have any openings at Arnauld Tech Corporation where you think my experience may be an asset?"
The left corner of his lip twitched slightly, "Asset huh?" Damien suddenly looked down at his mobile and tapped the screen, "Mikayla Moss, age 23, single," he glanced up at her as he emphasised her marital status, then went on reading, "a Bachelor's Degree in Communications with a minor in Marketing. Worked three years at Northefielde Elements Inc., native English speaker as well as proficient in French and Spanish, born in Trinidad and Tobago..."
Damien quickly read out the rest of her resume.
Once he was finished, he nonchalantly stated, "I never pegged you as an island girl," as he stared at her for a few seconds.
Mikayla had no idea what to really think, as she felt the heat of Damien's intense stare wash over her. So what if she was from the Caribbean, she was confused as to the importance her place of birth had in relation to anything in the present moment but she did her best to keep her facial expression neutral.
However, she did not back down, as she raised her chin slightly and met his gaze head on. She should not be surprised that he had a copy of her resume; he now owned her former place of employment after all, and probably had access to all the former employee files.
Growing impatient with the staring contest, she asked, "Well Mr. Arnauld? Do you have a place for me? Yes or no?" Mikayla imitated his earlier movements as she glanced down at her watch before she slowly stood up, "I believe that my two minutes are up."
Damien's left hand moved to gently stroke his neatly clipped facial hair. The corner of his mouth twitched with a smile that threatened to form, clearly impressed with what he saw.
He wanted to grab her by the pronounced indentation of her waist, bring her to stand between his legs and kiss her soundly on her desirable lips. Oh, he had a place for her alright.
Nevertheless, he knew that Mikayla would not be conquered so easily, her feisty personality said as much. He loved a challenge, but there was no denying that she was highly intelligent and would prove to be a great addition to his company.
In fact, he had been meaning to have human resources give her a call after viewing the work that she had done for Northefielde.
Damien had been impressed by the databases she had come up with to catalogue the daily tasks at her old office. Also, her marketing input during some of the meetings he attended had not gone unnoticed.
His secretary, Mrs. Clemons, would be retiring in a few months; she had worked for his father and now for him.
In his opinion, Damien thought that Mikayla would make a valuable replacement, but instead of being his secretary, she could be his personal assistant. Unlike Mrs. Clemons, Mikayla could accompany him to business meetings, especially the ones overseas.
"It would be easier to have the meetings documented as well as get her input where the marketing aspect was concerned," he said softly to himself.
Clearing his throat, he spoke louder, "All I have to say is..." Damien paused, his eyes raking over her thick lush lips before moving back to her expressive brown eyes as his mouth forming into a slow smile, "What took you so long?"
"Dis arrogant mudda cunt!" Mikayla muttered under her breath.
She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the words from tumbling out her mouth loudly. Clasping her hands into even tighter fists, she had to control the urge that she felt to slap the smug look off of his face.
Mikayla needed this job, so for now, she would hold her tongue, "When do I start?"
"Right now!" Damien said, as he pushed off his desk and walked around to pick up the office phone, "Hi, Mrs. Clemons, can you please come to my office and escort Ms. Moss to HR to sort out the necessary paperwork, thank you."
Heaving a sigh as she stood there and watched him, Mikayla wondered if the job would be worth being around the seemingly conceited and insufferable Damien Arnauld.
One thing was for sure though, it was amazing how much one's life could change in a day.