“I’m sure you are,” Nate interrupted her, “But that’s not it.”
“Please, Sir –”
“I hate hearing you call me Sir.”
Nate’s voice had darkened, and there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
Emily gulped and said, “I’m sorry, Si – Nate. It’s just, I think I’d be good at the job.”
“Task performance isn’t everything. We need people who’ll fit in with the company culture, and who I can work with comfortably.”
The words stung, but Emily tried to fight back. “I can fit in with the culture.”
“And you think I can work with you?”
“Absolutely.”
“From this interview – the impression I get, is that no, I can’t.”
Emily stared at him, but before she could say anything, Nate said, “There’s no point wasting any more time, I have work that needs to be done.”
He gestured at the door and Emily found her legs walking towards it and out.
She ignored the snide glance of the blonde receptionist, and forced her mind to stay blank as she stepped on the elevator.
Chapter Three
Once she got home, Emily locked herself in the bedroom and then the dam broke. Tears streamed down her face, and it wasn’t just the interview that made her feel sad. It was the crushing of her hopes – for the past few days she’d really believed she was onto something. Even though the internship was for only six months and didn’t pay much, she’d planned do well at work and then be hired as a full-time analyst. She would finally be living the life of her dreams.
Emily felt stupid for having believed in that dream. Obviously, it wasn’t to be. Nobody wanted to hire her, a rube with a liberal arts degree in a bad economy.
She slipped off her shoes and lay down in bed, not bothering to take off her clothes. After all, it didn’t matter if they got wrinkled – they weren’t good enough to land her the job anyway. She crawled under the covers and after a while she got her tears under control.
The stress of interviewing had caught up with her, and she began to feel drowsy. She had spent too long in the city, struggling and trying to be brave and optimistic. She decided that today she’d allow herself to indulge in a bit of self-pity.
But before she could dwell on how terrible her life was, the memory of Nate Steele floated before her eyes. His face, angular and strong; the light playing off his features. Those eyes, dark and intense, boring into her soul. And of course, the raw animal presence that hid below his perfectly tailored suit.
Emily imagined them meeting again, but this time not for any professional purposes. He wasn’t going to be her boss, so she was free to think of him any way so wanted. She imagined their lips meeting, Nate crushing her against his strong chest. The way he kissed her… the way his hands roamed across her body…
Emily felt slightly feverish, the intensity of her imagination was strange and powerful. In a few seconds, she found her vibrator. She peeled off her skirt and panties, and lay under the covers holding the vibrator against her throbbing clitoris.
The powerful sensations sent ripples up her spine, and she imagined it was Nate who was teasing her clit. He would use his fingers, and twirl them around, and then move them lower and thrust them into her drenched entrance. Emily moaned softly as the toy entered her, and she imagined it was Nate, pleasing her the way she wanted. His eyes were intense and he stared at her, watching her as he pleasured her, kissing her nipples and then watching as she moaned and clenched and then finally the climax burst inside her, exploding like a firework and leaving her weak and exhausted when it was over.
Emily opened her eyes, feeling a lot better. Now the vision of Nate was gone, and she remembered once more that she’d just blown an important interview. But she felt a lot better now, and she smiled as she imagined Nate kissing her gently on the lips. Though they’d only talked briefly, Emily felt like she knew him well. He was so intense, so powerful in an understated way. And he seemed to know her.
Emily headed into the shower, grabbing some clothes on the way. Sure, she’d just lost a potential job, but until the final interview stage, until she met that snide receptionist, things had been going well. She’d come so close. That meant she wasn’t a total loser. She knew she’d get a good job soon.
***
The next morning, Emily slept in. Her cell phone rang at around 10 am, and she looked at it groggily, expecting it to be her mother. She hadn’t told her mom about the terrible interview yet, and she wasn’t sure if she could deal with that conversation right now. But the number that appeared wasn’t one she knew, so cleared her throat, sat up in bed, and tried to sound alert.