“Just be on time,” he reminded him again. Without letting the man get another word in, Scout left him sitting there in shock. If Shepherd arrived early for his interview, as Scout expected him to, it was almost certain he’d be getting the job.
Riding the elevator up to the fourth floor, in a repeat of yesterday, minus the injured dog, plus a new cell phone, Alex checked his tie in the mirrored door. He then wiped his sweaty palms on his ass, under his jacket, where any moisture wouldn’t be noticed, and willed his hammering heart to slow down a bit. It’d been years since he’d been on a job interview, and he hoped this would be the last one for a long time. How he’d gotten so lucky as to run into Scout Turner in the bar yesterday was beyond him, but he wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth.
Alex had immediately noticed the good-looking man who’d sat beside him yesterday but had been too annoyed about the missed opportunity to engage him in conversation. Then the man had taken the decision from him. In preparing for yesterday’s interview, Alex had studied everything he could find about Scout Turner, looking for ways to make a good impression, but he’d never seen any recent photos of him without the beard and mustache. Hence the reason he hadn’t recognized the owner of Turner Continental as being the same man he’d been discreetly ogling as they talked.
As the elevator doors slid open, he checked his watch for the eighth or ninth time since he’d entered the lobby a few minutes ago. It was ten to three. Early enough, but not too early as to seem overly eager. Not that it mattered. Turner already knew Alex really wanted the job—he’d said as much in the bar.
For the second time in as many days, he approached the impeccably-dressed, middle-aged secretary and announced, “Alex Shepherd to see Mr. Turner.”
He didn’t miss how her green eyes flickered to a clock hanging on the wall next to her desk before she gave him a nod of approval. “Mr. Turner is on a phone call and will be a few more minutes. Please help yourself to a bottle of water and have a seat.” She gestured to a small fridge near the door he’d walked through moments before. It was filled with three-ounce bottles displaying the Paradox logo on the labels.
“Thanks.” After grabbing a water to relieve his parched throat, he took a seat and glanced around the reception area. There were three closed wooden doors in addition to the glass one he’d entered through. The furniture was upscale, as he’d expected. One wall was covered with stunning black-and-white images of the various hotels and other properties owned by Scout Turner’s ever-growing empire. The guy was an amazing businessman, having reached multi-millionaire status in the hospitality industry before the age of thirty. Forbes, Fortune, Newsweek, and the New York Times were just a few of the publications that’d written in-depth articles about him recently. His business savvy, coupled with the loyalty of his employees, his good looks, and his significant contributions to several charities had made him a popular public figure.
At three o’clock on the nose, the secretary’s phone rang, and she answered the call. “Yes, Mr. Turner, he’s here . . . certainly.” After hanging up, she pointed to a closed door on her left. “Go on in.”
Taking a cleansing breath, Alex pulled himself together, got to his feet, and tossed the now-empty water bottle into a small recycling bin next to the fridge. Out of courtesy, he knocked before pushing the door open. Turner rose from his leather chair behind a large, cherrywood desk and held out his hand. “Ready to try this again?”
Alex shook the man’s strong hand, trying to ignore how good it felt against his own. “Yes, sir. I apologize for yesterday. It was completely unprofessional.”
“Yet understandable. Have a seat.”
The men sat on either side of the desk. Like the rest of the hotel and reception area, the office was decorated in rich tones, fine furnishings, and attractive but unobtrusive artwork. Alex could see his résumé and employment application directly in front of Turner, who relaxed back in his chair and pinned him with an inquisitive stare. “So, tell me something about Alexander Shepherd I won’t find in your résumé or on social media. And, yes, security does check that for me.”
Alex had seen too many people crash and burn their careers because of crap they’d posted on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. For the most part, he avoided the sites except to stay in contact with some friends and family members scattered around the country.
“You mean besides everything I unloaded on you yesterday before I knew who you were?”
Turner’s chuckle was deep and sexy and sent a shiver down Alex’s spine. “Yes, although that did give me quite a bit of insight about you. Tell me what I don’t know already.”
Alex wasn’t sure what the man wanted him to say. Again, it’d been a long time since he’d interviewed for a job. “Okay, well, I’m a bit OCD about certain things, which, I’m sure you know, in the hospitality business, isn’t a bad thing. I enjoy traveling, for both work and pleasure. And, aside from when my mother had her stroke and when I had an appendectomy three years ago, I’d never taken any unplanned time off from my job with the Four Seasons. I loved working there, but, as I said yesterday, I felt I had to be closer to my family in case they needed me.”
Nodding, Turner appeared to mull over that answer for a few moments. Alex hoped his response had been appropriate enough.
Turner picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers. “You do understand, if you’re offered the position, you’ll be working long hours for me—fifty to sixty per week. It’s Monday through Friday, eight to five, but you’ll also be expected to attend late-hour meetings and the occasional weekend event. Those will almost always be scheduled in advance by at least a few days.”
“Yes, I understand.” That’d all been in the job description.
“Breakfast and lunch meetings happen frequently as well. But, as you’ll probably hear from my employees, I’m not a heartless man. If something happens within your family that needs your attention, I’d expect you to let me know, and I’ll make sure you have the time you need.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Turner.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Turner asked questions and Alex answered them to the best of his ability. While his mind stayed focused on the interview, he still found himself studying the other man. Turner’s dark-brown hair went well with his hazel eyes, which were more green than brown—probably because of the emerald-colored tie he was wearing. He was about an inch or two shorter than Alex’s six-feet-two and obviously had a fine physique under his custom-made, dark-gray suit. All the images Alex had seen of Turner for the last ten years or so were with him sporting a beard and mustache. It’d been sexy on the man, but so was this clean-shaven look. Alex couldn’t decide which he liked better.
As Turner wrapped up the interview, Alex presumed he’d get a phone call in a few days about whether or not he’d gotten the job. Undoubtedly, there’d been dozens of interested applicants vying for the position. When Turner got to his feet and held out his hand, which Alex shook, the last thing he expected was for the man to say, “Welcome to Turner Continental, Alex. Before you leave today, go over to personnel and fill out all the paperwork for payroll and your insurance. They’ll give you an employee packet with all the info about the company that you’ll need and assign you a parking space. After that, stop by security to have your picture taken for your employee ID. They’ll also fingerprint you for the electronic scanners that are on some doors, as well as give you a set of keys. Are you available to start tomorrow?”