The top is made of white granite or marble, it’s perfect and gorgeous. I wonder offhandedly if this is the place I could work. I would take it, I would love it. To be able to greet people all day, be the first smiling face they see.
“May I help you?” the woman greets, her voice syrupy sweet and fake all at the same time.
Lifting my gaze from the white countertop, I give her a shaky smile. “I have an interview for the intern position?” I say, my voice shaky and unsure.
“Do you?” she asks, arching a brow.
I blink, taking a step back. “Ummm.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t answer a question with a question. You’re here for an interview. If you want this job, you need to be confident. There are other people who are walking in there acting as if the job is already there’s. Get it together, girl.”
My lips part slightly in awe as hers curve up into a grin. “I’m Bethanie, by the way. Most of my friends call me Bethie.”
“I’m Tennessee, most people call me Tenny.”
“I dig it, cute name. Last name? I need to look you up and check you in.”
I tell her Bradley and chew on the inside of my cheek as she touches some buttons on her computer keyboard. My palms start to sweat again as nervous butterflies flit throughout my stomach.
Pinching my eyes closed, I inhale a deep breath, then let it out before I open my eyes. “Oh my,” she breathes.
Flicking my gaze to hers, I gulp. I don’t even get an opportunity to ask her what she means, she stands and licks her lips.
“You’re to be taken directly to Mr. Astor’s office himself. I’ve never actually been up to his office before. Wow, this is kind of a thrill. You totally have this job, girl. Shoulders square, back straight.”
I watch as she rounds her counter, a smile plastered on her lips. “Follow me,” she says with a wink.
She’s dressed so much nicer than I am. She’s wearing a navy-blue skirt suit with a hot pink blouse beneath the jacket and leopard print high heels. Her blonde hair is slicked back and worn in a high ponytail. She’s not quite as tall as I am, but has curves for days where I’m more straight, tall, and lean, no matter what I do.
I feel stupid walking behind her. My discount skirt, with my even larger discounted white shirt tucked inside. My low-heeled pumps are nowhere near as nice as hers, or nearly as tall. She looks elegant, while I look exactly like what I am, a little girl playing dress-up.
We ride the elevator in silence, then as the door pings open and we begin to walk through the next room, she asks me where I’m from.
“Tulsa,” I murmur.
She stops, turning back she looks at me with a grin. “Don’t tell anyone here you’re from Oklahoma, they’ll make fun of you relentlessly,” she warns.
As if I’m not nervous enough, she has to say that. My entire body trembles and she turns her back to me and starts to walk again.
“I’ve never actually been on this floor before. It’s so awesome, even the carpeting is plush and expensive,” she says practically swooning. “Mr. Astor’s office is at the end, I hear he has a huge window, floor to ceiling so that he can look down at the city.”
“How is he?” I ask softly.
She shrugs a shoulder, looking back at me with a smirk. “I have no idea. I’ve only ever seen him walk past my counter, but that man is hot. He makes me tingle in all the right places,” she announces.
My face heats from her words and she laughs softly at the sight of my embarrassment. When we finally reach the back of the building, she lifts her arm, her hand balled into a fist to knock.
“Wait, just one second,” I cry.
She looks back over her shoulder, her brows lifted as she waits for me to say whatever it is I’m about to say, probably knowing that I’m going to stall, or at least try to. She doesn’t allow it though.
“You’re going to be fine. Come talk to me before you leave, I want to hear all about it.”
In the next moment, she knocks on the door and there’s nothing I can do about it. I hear his voice from the other side. It’s deep and smooth, like nothing I have ever heard before and suddenly, I understand exactly what Bethie was saying about feeling tingly in all the right places.
LANDRY
I haven’t conducted an interview in years. I’m not even sure that I remember how. Susan made it clear that she wanted this girl to get a job though, so I decided to just interview her myself. Even if the internship position isn’t for her, there is probably something uncomplicated in the mailroom that she can handle.
“Mr. Astor,” a woman’s voice calls from the other side of my door, accompanying a knock.
Glancing at my computer, I groan. Julie has taken her lunch, which is why she’s not out front to greet them and announce their presence so that I’m prepared.
“Come in,” I murmur.
The door slowly opens. I don’t look up, I need to finish reading over this contract. I’m hoping this interview will be short and sweet. Get this girl hired either as an intern or in the mailroom.
“Mr. Astor?” a soft voice murmurs as the door clicks closed.
Lifting my hand, I wave toward the chair. “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in just a moment.”
It only takes me a few minutes to finish the page. I mark a couple things that need to be changed by the attorney, then finally lift my gaze to meet with Helen Bradley’s daughter. When my eyes clash with green ones, my heart stops in my chest.
I’ve never seen a shade of green that color before, never realized that eyes could be that light green. Clearing my throat, I try not to shift in my seat, but it’s hard with the growing erection beneath my slacks.
“You must be Miss Bradley?” I ask.
She smiles softly, nodding as she tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. She’s uneasy, unsure, and judging by the pink in her cheeks, she’s shy.
“Tennessee,” she says before she clears her throat. “Tennessee Bradley.”
Her accent is clear, she is definitely an Oklahoma native and I find it endearing and sweet. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t heard it from a woman without a slur in years. Perhaps it’s because she is endearing and sweet. She hasn’t been ruined by life yet.
“I was told you’d have a copy of my resume already?”
Smiling, I nod my head once. “I do. There’s not much there. Why don’t you tell me about yourself? Why do you think that you should be an intern for Astor Investment Banking?”
She’s quiet for a moment. I watch as her eyes move around quickly, her breathing becoming quick and she balls her hands into fists in her lap. Then she inhales a deep breath before letting it out and her gaze finds mine, focusing.
“After transferring from Arkansas back to Oklahoma, I decided to dive deep into finance. Numbers are my passion.”
She’s lying, but I can’t quite decide what about. The transcripts prove that she did indeed study business and finance, she also received great grades and graduated cum laude. It’s impressive, but she does lack extracurriculars that make a well-rounded candidate.
Nodding, I lean back in my chair. She’s beautiful, stunning really, but I don’t hire based on looks. She chews on the inside of her cheek, a tell of hers. She is also still holding her fisted hands in her lap, another tell.