Get your ass moving!
His feet stayed planted.
Fuck.
Reaching into his pocket, he wrapped his fingers around his phone. Tina was only a text away if he needed her. Not that he would give in to the impulse.
Closing his eyes, he focused on the sounds around him, taking a moment to identify several individual elements before moving on to the smells. Exhaust, street meat, and something that smelled strangely of urine. Wonderful. But grounding. When he finally opened his eyes, the colors of the bustling downtown seemed momentarily sharper. Regardless of how he did this morning, the world would keep turning and he’d keep going.
He took a step toward the building. Then another. One foot in front of the other until he made his way through the front door and to the security desk.
Don’t forget to smile. Of course it was Tina’s voice in his head. The smile felt foreign on his face, and his lips trembled from the strain. It worked, though, helping him push through the panic to speak to the woman behind the counter. “Hello. I’m Nolan Carmichael, and I have an interview at ten with Compass Technologies.”
She barely looked at him as she went through her list. “Yup, there you are. Take this badge and go up to the fourteenth floor. Swipe it through the card reader first, then select the floor number. Make sure to return it here when you’re done.” She then smiled at him without making eye contact. “Good luck.”
That wasn’t the least bit reassuring. “Thanks.”
After a short battle with the security badge, the elevator doors closed and the carriage flew up. His stomach fell somewhere around his feet from the speed, only to come slamming back into place when it stopped. By the time he reached his destination and stepped off the elevator into a tastefully decorated front-office area, he was ready to go back home to bed. Why did existing have to be so hard some days?
“Welcome to Compass. How may I help you?” The gray-haired woman behind the reception desk smiled pleasantly enough. “Interview today?”
“Yes. Nolan Carmichael.”
She ticked his name off. “Wonderful. They’re running a bit late. Please have a seat with the others and I’ll let you know when they’re ready for you.”
“Thanks.”
The seating area she’d directed him to held eight other hopeful candidates. Most were women, but there was one other man, which helped relieve some of Nolan’s tension. He’d assumed there would be far fewer male executive assistants than female, so it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one in the applicant pool.
All he had to do now was wait.
No problem at all.
His nerves crept up on him as time crawled forward. One older woman was called in, then the other man. The wall clock’s second hand ticked steadily forward, and constantly drew his attention. Damn it, this was worse than he’d thought it would be. And to top things off, he now really did have to pee. He should do that. Nothing worse than squirming his way through an interview. Or worse, being so nervous that he pissed himself.
He got to his feet so quickly he drew the attention of the remaining interviewees. Shit. Ignoring them, he strode over to the receptionist. “Hi. I’m sorry. Do I have time to use the washroom?”
She peeked at her computer screen. “Yes. There’s one person ahead of you still. It’s down the hall and on your left.”
“Thank you.”
Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. Granite countertops lined the wall, and held a long trough-style sink. Nolan used the urinal and washed his hands, then took a moment to splash water on his face, close his eyes, and run through his breathing techniques. Get a handle on yourself. It’s just a job interview.
For a position he’d never held before. One that would make the interviewers ask why he was settling for a lower salary range, less room for advancement . . .
No, nothing to worry about at all.
Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing and ignored the pain that was creeping up his thigh toward his hip. In and out. Nice and deep. Relax. He wasn’t in a full-blown anxiety attack yet, so he knew he still had a chance to get a grip. The fan in the bathroom hummed softly in the background, and he latched on to that. It wasn’t the same as running water, but it was better than turning his hands into prunes before walking into a social situation.
He counted backward from one hundred in his head; around sixty-three, he felt he could finally breathe normally again.
Okay, he could do this.
His leg still throbbed, no doubt from forcing himself to walk without his slight limp. Being slightly off-balance was probably the reason he caught sight of his profile in the mirror beside the sink. Nolan knew better than to look—he’d practically trained himself not to—but his eyes focused on to his image and refused to move away.
He’d lost so much weight in the past two years his suit hung on him, giving him the appearance of a kid who’d put on his dad’s coat. He could live with that. It was his face that still looked like an imposter’s.
The surgeons had done an amazing job with his reconstruction. No one who hadn’t spent day in and day out with him would even notice the slight change of his nose’s shape, or the way his left eyebrow didn’t quite curve the right way. But Nolan found his reflection eerie, so close to correct that it was somehow worse than if he’d appeared as an entirely different person. How could he be himself, know himself, and still not recognize the man in the mirror?
He ran a finger along the side of his jaw where the break had been and pressed against the cheek and into the hole that should have been filled by a tooth. That would be the first thing he’d get fixed the moment he had dental benefits.
Nolan startled as the door pushed open and a man strode past him. It was easy to let his eyes follow the newcomer, partially because he was all energy and motion, walking with a sense of purpose, but mostly because Nolan didn’t want to look any longer at the flawed restoration project he’d become. The lingering scent of the man’s cologne wrapped around Nolan, making him wonder if the guy’s face was as attractive as the back of his head.
Wait a minute. What the hell am I doing?
Nolan’s body froze, and he was helpless to do anything but watch the man in the mirror as he made his way from the urinals to the sink. Shit, shit, shit, look away. Close your eyes. Stop. Looking! Somehow he managed to tear his gaze away before the man finished and made his way to the opposite mirror to fix his tie. As long as Nolan didn’t bring any undue attention on himself, everything would be fine. The man moved, and Nolan was staring at him once more. God, he was far too good-looking.
Nolan had been lucky enough to come out to his friends and family early in life. While some of his brothers had teased him, they’d always accepted him for who he was. But Nolan wasn’t naïve enough to think that everyone was as accommodating of his sexuality, especially strangers going about their business in the men’s room. And if he went around ogling hot guys in the men’s room, people were likely to draw the obvious conclusion.
“Something I can help you with?”
It took Nolan’s brain a second to realize that the deep rumbling voice had come from the man beside him. “Pardon?”
“You were staring.” The man’s brown eyes locked onto his in the mirror as he finished washing his hands.
Damn. “Sorry.” Wonderful, nothing like being a lecherous ass at a job interview. “I’m here for an interview and apparently I’m a bit nervous.”
The man frowned, causing lines to crease his forehead and cheeks. “The secretary pool?”
“Executive assistant.” He hated the position being called secretary as much as he imagined the women did. “And yes.”
“That’s unusual. For a man.”
“Not really. Though I have to admit the competition from the ladies is steep, especially at a company of this caliber.”
The other man softly grunted. “You enjoy your job?”
To his surprise, Nolan found himself relaxing. “I don’t know. It will be my first time in the position if I manage to get hired.”
“We don’t normally hire inexperienced people.”
Nolan shrugged. “I’m not inexperienced. I’ve had a recent . . . career change and Compass seems to offer a compatible opportunity for my skill set.”
The stranger looked at him, and Nolan felt a blush begin to creep up his cheeks. The man wore his clearly expensive suit to perfection. His expertly cut brown hair was nearly the same shade of brown as his eyes. He was only a bit taller than Nolan’s six feet, but his broad shoulders and chest were far more expansive than Nolan’s.
For a fleeting moment, Nolan imagined what it would be like to be wrapped up in those arms and to kiss along that chiseled jaw. Swallowing hard, he tore his gaze away once more. “I better get back. I don’t want to be late.”
If the man acknowledged that, Nolan didn’t wait around to see. The air in the hallway felt a hundred degrees cooler the moment he stepped out. Shit, what the hell had just happened in there? He never let himself get that overwhelmed by another person. At least the throat-squeezing anxiety had lessened.
The receptionist caught his attention as he came close. “They’re ready for you, Mr. Carmichael.”
Oh thank God. At least he could get through this now and get home. He needed a bath, a beer, and a good book. “Thank you.”