Eternally Seduced(6)

"What we were really interested in was your ability to meet business talents with your main passion. And that's reading, no?"

It took me a while to adjust to her French, umm, verbal peculiarities. She said ‘no', but what she really meant was ‘yes' … yes?

I finally nodded. "Err, yes, I love to read."

Her face remained unsmiling as she asked, "But you can't write to save your life, no?"

The way Charli said it made me wince, but it was true. "Yes."

"And that's why we need you. We are not interested in hiring writers.  They are often biased and egoistical, often unable to appreciate anyone  else's writing over theirs. But you - you know how to judge books and  writing without being a writer yourself, and that's why we need you."

"I see." But I didn't.

"This is what you'd call a dream job, ma belle."

I jerked in my seat at her words.

The words sounded eerie, more like a curse than a blessing.         

     



 

Charli leaned close. "Your main job is to know and if you can, predict,  what the trend in the market is right now regarding these materials. You  need to look for projects worthy of international viewership. You have a  blog, no?"

The sudden switch of subjects made my head whirl a bit, but I nodded again.

"And you review works there, no?"

"Yes." Did she Google me too? How did she know so much about me?

"So I want you to do the same here, but only this time, you get heard."  She leaned backin her chair and looked at me with her naturally green  and incredibly sharp eyes. "You will take the job, no?"

"I'd be crazy not to," was all I could say.

Afterwards, Charli told me that I, along with the two other applicants  called back for a second interview yesterday, had the same jobs. We  would work as a team and individually, depending on necessity. The  salary she quoted was standard pay in the industry, but she told me this  could go higher in a short time based on my performance. On the bright  side, she did say I'd get free meals at work, excellent overtime pay  when required, and transportation allowance.

Mondays to Thursdays, I was required to report in office attire. Fridays  were anything-goes. My work schedule would be from 8am to 5pm. No grace  period. Oh, and one thing else, Charli reminded me as a post script -  office romances were not allowed.

Déjà vu struck me for the second time, and I almost shivered because of it.

Constantijin was still nowhere to be found when I finally walked out of  the doors of Kastein, Inc. My phone rang just as I reached the other  side of the street.

"Hello?"

"Did you miss me, Yanna?"

Holy...

It was him.

Constantijin.

The whole world disappeared the moment I realized who I was talking to.  People were constantly walking before me, drivers honking their horns,  and there was even a construction crew a few feet away drilling into the  cement, doing God knew what. But none of their noise reached my ears.

"Yanna?"

I still didn't know what to say so I stayed silent, secretly content to  replay the sound of his voice over and over, especially the part where  he said my name with that accented voice of his.

"I think about you all the time, schat."

What did that last word mean? I was so, like, Googling that after this.

When I still didn't answer, his tone turned from seductive to serious as he asked, "Why did you run away?"

Why didn't you run after me?

But I couldn't ask him that, could I? It would have been akin to, like,  begging him to come after me. I said finally, in a stiff voice that  required all my acting skills to pull off, "I don't think we should be  talking like this anymore. I'll be working for you starting tomorrow. It  would be inappropriate."

A long pause followed, one that made me anxious and tense even though I  didn't want to be. I should hang up now. I knew that, but I couldn't.

"That's impossible."

I inhaled sharply at the words, conscious of the zing of relief that  went through me and shamed by it. Oh God, I was so pathetic. Sometimes, I  was too stubborn for my own good. Constantijin Kastein was bad news.  How many times did I have to repeat to myself that anything that had to  do with the Netherland's #1 Playboy was surely going to end not just  with a broken hymen but a broken heart as well?

My fingers tightened around my mobile phone. "I'm hanging up after this, Mr. Kastein. Please just---"

"I want to fuck you too much to stay away."

Holy. Shit.

I glared at my phone, wishing it was a blond gorgeous giant I was  glaring at instead. With just those few words, he had ruined whatever  composure I had. Now, all I could think about was how he had me on the  table, devouring my breasts, his erection jutting hard against my core,  and me right now, soaking wet in the middle of a public street.

"Stop saying things like that," I said weakly. Lame response, I know, but right now? That was, like, the best I could dish out.

"Why not?" The purr in his voice made me tremble, something I was sure  would have people looking at me oddly if they noticed. It was still  early in the day, with the sun sending golden rays all over the place,  and yet here I was shivering with desire.

"We just can't. It's not … we can't, okay?"

He chuckled, and the sound sent deliciously erotic shivers down my  spine. It was almost as if I could feel his fingers trailing down my  back, promising me pleasure a hundred times more intense if I finally  let him take me.

"Yanna, we are already doing it, whether you admit it or not. And  tomorrow, when you get to work, we'll be doing a lot more than this."





Lesson #4




Don't ask to be friends with your billionaire.

He'll think you're after the benefits, not the friendship.



In theory, the first day of work should have been like the first day of  school. You had to feel your way around, meet new friends and frenemies,  and figure out what you had to do to not be an outcast. But the thing  was, I had never experienced first-day trouble, mostly because I tended  to skip it altogether. By the time I did show up for school, Alyx and  Daria had already smoothed things over for me. They were cool, ergo I  was cool by association.

But obviously, that wasn't an option I had at work.

I took a shower early and chose a perfectly modest outfit for my first  day  –  black blouse, matching slacks, and low-heeled pumps. My minis  would be on hiatus until further notice.

Megan and Charli were already at work when I got to Kastein, Inc.,  making me vow to myself that I was not going to let my alarm snooze  thrice starting tomorrow. Hopefully, double snoozes would be enough to  have me arriving at work earlier than my superior.

When I got to the office Charli had directed me to, I saw the two other  marketing executives she had told me about. My heart sank. One of them  was Bottle Blonde. She had on a collared blouse as well, but unbuttoned  way, way down to reveal more than an eyeful of her Ds. Next to her, I  felt like I had breasts the size of eggs. Robin eggs, even. Her skirt  was way longer than mine, but they had mid-thigh slits at each side, and  her legs looked endlessly long with her fuck-me stilettos.

Immediately, I thought of Bottle Blonde coming up to Constantijin in her get-up and my heart constricted.

The last one to make up our threesome was George, a gay Ivy League  graduate who seemed to have a fondness for dorky-looking glasses and  checkered shirts. I had noticed him in the interview, and he had the  same combination on.

George and I smiled at each other. In an instant, I knew we were going  to get along fine. Bottle Blonde and I sized each other up unsmilingly.  Just as quickly, I knew we were going to be bitter frenemies for life.

The office we were given had light purple walls, a color that was very  much easy on the eye. One side of the room was made of pure glass,  providing us with a breathtaking cityscape view. The left side of the  room, next to the door which joined our office to Charli's, was lined  with three cubicles. Each cubicle had a table, chair, and a waist-high  file cabinet. Displaying immense diplomacy, George opted for the middle  table to keep Bottle Blonde  –  or rather Arian  –  and me apart. On the  opposite side of the room was a huge worktable, which I assumed where  we'd be doing our work as a team.

I looked forward to it. Not.

When I got to my cubicle, I found a Post-It note stuck on my LCD screen  from Charli, asking us to review the latest projects of Kastein  Entertainment.

Around 10 in the morning, Charli dropped by to check on our progress. By  then, it became clear to all of us that we represented different  categories. I was given the YA and romantic comedies, George was there  for the fighting series like Naruto and Pokemon as well as yaoi. Yaoi or  shounen-ai was an umbrella term for M/M stories. Apparently, Kastein  wanted to capitalize on the Brokeback craze. As for Arian, she  represented the adult chick lit genre, focusing on manga and Asian works  that were along the lines of Bridget Jones' Diary and Erin Brockovich.