ZOE, 13th Feb 20...
I can see the gargantuan black oak luxury desk directly in front of me, a barrier between him and…well, me. The leather chair is turned away, facing the huge glass wall that offers a panoramic view of the impossibly blue Seattle sky. Even from the floor of this ridiculously opulent office, I can feel the aura of seriousness, of power. The atmosphere is thick with tension, like a tightly wound spring ready to snap. A pristine white office sofa sits against one wall, seemingly awaiting my ass to grace it. Fat chance.
"You can leave us, Tiffany." An unemotional, authoritative, and undeniably suave voice cuts through the silence.
I feel my cheeks flush. I am still not collected but here is the man of the hour. She walks off silently, her heels clicking on the polished floor. I stay kneeling there like a complete idiot, scrambling for my stuff, looking around at the absurdly detailed design of the space.
Seriously, who needs an office this big? Does he play basketball in here?
Then, the chair swivels.
My breath hitches.
Immediately, my eyes shift to a tall, unfairly handsome ebony-skinned man leaning against his desk, gazing down at me with an intensity that makes my knees weak. I am almost thrown out of balance by the way his dark brown eyes pierce into my soul, scrutinizing me, and mesmerize the shit out of me.
Okay, wow. He's…distracting. Very distracting. Focus, Zoe. Focus.
"Hey," he greets me, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You look a little pale. Are you okay?"
"Yes....I....am okay."
"Won't you sit down?" he asks, gesturing towards the sofa. His eyes, like they are just staring at my soul.
"Oh, right," I say, managing a wobbly smile as I finally gather the last of my belongings. I stand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and try to regain some semblance of composure.
I move towards the sofa, clutching my battered bag like a lifeline, and perch on the edge, trying to organize my paperwork and mentally prepare myself for whatever is about to go down.
Okay, Zoe, game face on. You've got this.
"So, Zoe," he says, pushing himself off the desk and strolling towards me. He is tall, imposing, and radiates an effortless confidence that is both intimidating and strangely alluring. "Tell me, why should I hire you?"
My heart pounds in my chest. Okay, time to sell it.
"Because you'll have acquired the greatest asset in your company. I am creative and multifaceted, and I am ambidextrous in my work." The words tumble out, a carefully rehearsed spiel. "I am the obvious choice for this company." I try to project confidence, even though I am desperately anxious to know if I actually have a shot at this job.
"Hm." He stops in front of me, his eyes assessing, unwavering. "Someone said almost the exact same thing when they came through to this section of X Corp. How sure am I that you're telling the truth?"
"Because I am," I say, meeting his gaze head-on. *He's not buying it. Shit.*
He seems too far-fetched anyway. Can't see that I am worth this job? Is he some random, entitled jerk or a serious guy who does his research? I suddenly want to flee, to escape this pressure cooker of an office and crawl back under the covers of Tasha's sofa. I look down, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by fear and self-doubt.
Damn it! I need to look confident, not like some pathetic weirdo.