J O R D A N
“So, last question,” the woman on the other side of the desk said as I shifted slightly in my seat, happy that this job interview was finally coming to an end.
I had a hard time concentrating on the words the brunette in front of me was saying, constantly catching myself staring at the weird proportions of her face. The Botox hid her age well, but it was overly done, so she looked... different.
I blinked a few times, breaking out of my trance and now focusing on her dark eyes.
“My apologies, could you repeat the question, please?”
She nodded. “What’s the color of money?”
The color of money?
It was a weird question, but I’ve heard many people say companies use these kinds of questions to test their applicants, and we rehearsed them in college too.
The obvious answer would be green, if you lived in the US, but it really depended on the country. Euro bills could be all the colors of the rainbow, just as many others around the globe.
“That would depend on the country,” I said confidently. Mrs. Martin nodded, writing something on the notepad in front of her. I couldn’t see what it was, but her face looked somewhat satisfied with my answer, so I smiled in relief.
I jumped when the room was suddenly filled with the excruciating sound of my phone.
My cheeks burned up and Mrs. Martin raised a brow, placing the pen next to the notepad before folding her hands together on the table.
“I am so sorry,” I said as I reached for the pesky device in my purse, my face probably resembling a tomato at that point. I read Ashley’s name before shutting it off, not risking it ringing again, even though the interview was practically over.
Why’s she calling me?
“Well, Ms. Sawyer,” she continued, and I nodded, straightening in my seat. “Lastly, I was wondering if you have any questions for me.”
Oh shit. I should ask something really smart.
“What are the work hours?” I blurted out and Mrs. Martin raised her brows, again.
“As I mentioned before, work hours are from eight to five,” she answered.
Fuck, she must think that I’m really dumb.
“Ah, yes. That was all,” I smiled, relieved when the corners of her mouth curled up too— or as much as they could.
“Well, then,” Mrs. Martin stood up from her seat and I did the same, trying not to trip in the four inch heels I had decided to wear. “Thank you for coming. We’ll get back to you by the start of next week.”
Cutting right to the chase.
“Thank you so much for this opportunity,” I said, shaking her hand and following her to the exit.
“You’re welcome. Have a good day,” she said, practically shoving me out of her office and shutting the door behind me.
I took one look at the closed door before I walked down the hallway towards the elevators.
I thought I finally had a shot. The job wasn’t much and the pay wouldn’t be great, but god, I really needed the money. Hopefully starting at the front desk, I would be able to work my way up and have a job that matched my degree for once.
As I took one of the elevators down, surrounded by sharp people in suits and pencil skirts, I turned on my phone, waiting for the messages to come in.
Three missed calls from Ashley.
I pressed call and brought the device to my ear, a little nervous to know the reason why she called so many times. Ashley had been my best friend for years, and in all those years, we never really called each other unless it was an emergency.
The phone barely rang once, or she picked up.
“Finally,” she huffed and I rolled my eyes. This didn’t sound like an emergency.
“Hey, Ash. What’s up?” I chirped, my voice dripping with sarcasm, earning a few looks from the up-tight business men and women standing next to me.
“Well, how did it go?” she asked and I smiled, leaving the elevator faster then deemed natural when the doors slid open to the ground floor.
I quickly walked out of the big office building and took a deep breath before answering.
“Honestly, pretty good,” I beamed.
I heard a shriek on the other side of the line and pulled the phone from my ear, not to go deaf.
“I’m so happy for you! But you know that my offer still stands?” she said and I rolled my eyes.
“Yes. And you know I appreciate it, but I’m still not going to accept.”
“Ugh, fine,” she sighed. “You’re so stubborn. Maybe we can celebrate tomorrow?”
I groaned, knowing in a few seconds I would agree to go anyway, so fighting her was pointless.
“Sure,” I said.
I walked towards the parking lot next to the building, feeling actually really professional in my improvised pencil skirt, holding my phone to my ear. I felt almost as if I belonged here, having an important conversation instead of talking to my best friend about drinks. Well, that was important too.
“We can go to that new place. What’s it called?” she continued.
“What, The Red Martini? I can’t afford that,” I groaned and I could physically feel my last dollars fly out of my wallet.
“You know I’m like, rich, right?” she said.
Here we go.
“Ash, I appreciate it, but I’m not a charity case.”
“Yes, you remind me of that at least once a week. But it’s my treat, really, I have something to tell you anyway,” she chirped and I raised my brows.
I walked to my car, putting the key in the door and unlocking it. I’ve had this red Mini R50 for as long as I can remember and I still loved it. To be honest I couldn’t afford a new car, so I didn’t really have a choice.
“Okay, fine. Nine thirty?” I asked, struggling to get the door of my car open. It took special care to get it open, this car was all kinds off shabby.
“Yes, I’ll ring Bailey as well,” she answered.
“Sure, see you tomorrow,” I said before hanging up the phone, finally able to concentrate on that stupid door.
I drove to my tiny apartment on the dodgy side of town, singing along with the music obnoxiously loud, and almost running a few people over.
Once at my apartment, I parked my car in the same spot as always, close to the front door and in view of the only camera in the street. I killed the engine, made sure the hand brake was on and stepped out, locking my car twice.
It wasn’t actually worth anything anymore, but I didn’t have insurance or the money to buy a new one.
That, and it was my baby.
Once in the foyer of my apartment building, I closed the front door, which needed an extra pull, and made my way up the stairs.
“Hi, Mrs. Hellen,” I said to the old lady who was always watering the millions of plants in the foyer. It was a surprise she hadn’t drowned them yet.
“Hello, Jordan, how did your job interview go?” Mrs. Hellen said and I paused on the stairs.
“It went well!”
“Good. What was the name of the company again?” she asked, not a care in the world that the pot of the philodendron was overflowing.
“Cendose Incorporated. Something with finances.”
She chuckled. I turned around and continued up the stairs, smiling when I heard her mutter under her breath, “Something with finances.”
I dropped my keys on the small table next to the front door and flopped on the couch, kicking off my heels. I dropped my head back and closed my eyes. The possible prospect of finally having a somewhat stable income was putting me in a great mood. Maybe it was a good idea to go out this weekend.
I shrieked when my phone rang.
I tapped my hand over the couch, but came up with nothing. I huffed and sat up, grabbing the device from the tiny coffee table, smiling when I saw who was calling.
“Hey Dad!” I chirped as I answered.
“Hey honey. How did the interview go?” he asked and I frowned. Fuck, I should’ve called him as soon as I was done.
“It went well! But I don’t want to get my hopes up, of course,” I said as I twirled a dark curl around my fingers.
“I’m sure they’ll give you a chance. You studied so hard for this.”
I almost broke down crying hearing his words. I hadn’t told him that this was a job interview for a front desk position, just as I hadn’t told him that all the other ones weren’t degree driven either.
“Yes,” I choked out. “How’s Eliza?” I continued, not so casually changing the subject.
“She’s alright, still recovering from a cold.”
“Oh, no. I hope she feels better soon! And you? How are you?”
“I’m fine, honey. Are you still coming for lunch on Sunday?” he asked.
“Yes, of course!”
“Well, I’ll talk to you on Sunday!”
“Can’t wait. Take care, Dad. And I hope Eliza feels better soon,” I answered, waiting for him to end the call.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
I stood in front of my closet, looking at the few items of clothing I had to choose from for tonight. I had taken a quick shower after dinner and had only put on a lace thong, not sure if I was going to wear a bra yet. I grabbed the few dresses I had and laid them on my bed.
Why was choosing an outfit so hard?
Bailey, my other best friend, had set me up with a rich guy for a date in a fancy restaurant, even though I thought I had made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Honestly, I only agreed because I was in desperate need of a good fuck.
I looked at my options, trying to figure out which one was most likely to get me laid, but was decent enough to wear to a fancy restaurant.
I nodded to myself and picked up the red body con dress, holding it in front of my chest and looking in the mirror.
Yes, this was going to work.
I stepped into the dress, pulled it up and arranged the thin straps on my shoulders. I didn’t have the biggest boobs, but a good c-cup that filled the fabric well. My ass however, stretched the dress a little bit, so it was rising a bit further up then it was meant to, but I didn’t mind. As long as I didn’t walk around with my ass on full display, it was fine.
I walked into my tiny en suite bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. I dried my dark, loose curls and let them flow down my back, covering my tattoos. I put on some eyeliner and a nude lipstick, and I was done. I never really was the make-up kind of girl, but putting on some lipstick on a night out, I enjoyed.
I closed the bathroom door behind me and grabbed my phone, looking at the time. I only had a few minutes left before my cab was here. I grabbed all the items of clothing that were scattered around my room, and stuffed them into my closet.
Folding clothing was exhausting and if I’m being honest, I’m lazy.
I grabbed a pair of black, strappy heels that I was going to regret and left my bedroom.
After paying the driver, I stepped out of the cab, and walked up to the restaurant, finding the red ropes and big modern sign slightly intimidating. I took a last breath of the fresh air, the light breeze clearing my mind before I stepped into the warm, busy restaurant.
My heels clicked against the dark granite as I walked up to the hostess, nervously pulling the hem of my skirt down as far as possible.
“Welcome to the Latmeyer, do you have a reservation?” the blonde asked with a big smile on her face, years of training clearly paying off. I could never.
“Yes, hi. I think the name was Polley?” I said, scanning the restaurant.
Almost immediately, my eyes landed on a fucking gorgeous man leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand. He was wearing dark grey slacks and a white button up, the sleeves neatly rolled to his elbows.
Was my mouth watering?
I watched the muscles in his arm tense as he brought his drink to his lips, his eyes flickering to mine. A smirk appeared on his face, as well as small dimples, that enhanced his chiseled jawline even more.
His dark blond hair was carefully pulled back, the sides shaved into a fade, and a light stubble covered his jaw.
He was fucking perfect.
And that shirt... It would look beautifully on my bedroom floor.
I was rudely interrupted by another man, who was currently looking me up and down.
He was a little less handsome compared to the god I was making eyes at a few seconds ago, and I realized he was the one I was supposed to be meeting. To say I was disappointed was an understatement.
“Yes, Hi,” I said, my cheeks heating up because I was fantasizing about the other man’s face between my legs.
“I’m Chris,” the guy said and I nodded, at this point completely forgetting that I was actually having a conversation with the hostess before I got distracted.
“I’ll show you to your table,” she said, still with the same smile on her face. How did she get it to look so genuine?
Chris smiled at me before we followed the hostess to our table, of course in the middle of the fucking restaurant.
“Please take a seat. Your assigned waiter will provide you with your menu’s shortly, as well as taking your drink order,” she said as I sat down, Chris doing the same on the opposite end of the table. The white table cloth felt like silk against my bare legs, and the lavish tableware made me feel as if we were dining with the queen herself.
“Thank you,” we said in unison and the hostess walked back to her station.
“So, Jordan,” Chris said and I looked up, making the mistake of looking over to the bar for a second. Pretty Boy was watching us with a mischievous look on his face, and I rolled my eyes, my previous infatuation rapidly turning to annoyance.
“Something wrong?” my actual date said and I quickly averted my eyes.
“Yes, sorry. What were you saying?” I smiled.
“What do you do?” he asked and I slightly raised my brows.
Fuck what was I even going to say? ‘Well currently unemployed but hopefully in two weeks sitting behind the front desk of the company you can probably buy.’ I think not.
Before I could answer, one of the waiters appeared next to our table, sporting the same perfect smile as his coworker.
“Welcome to the Latmeyer, my name is Danny and I will be your waiter for the evening. I have your menu’s,” he said as he opened one of the leather bound menu’s before handing it to me. He did the same for Chris, and placed a wine list on the table. “Can I get you any aperitif?”
God, yes, alcohol. I had a weird feeling that I was going to need it.
“I would like a martini, drop the lemon in and no olives, please,” I said and Danny nodded, directing his gaze to my table partner.
“And for you sir?”
“A whiskey on the rocks,” Chris ordered, not giving our waiter a single look as he spoke. Yikes.
“Perfect, I’ll be back shortly with your drinks,” Danny said and he walked towards the bar, a place I was still very much avoiding with my eyes.
“So what do you do?” Chris continued, unfortunately not dropping the question.
“I’m transitioning. What do you do?” I answered, hoping he would leave it.
“Well, I’m a lawyer at Fero & Polley, my father’s law firm,” he said with a smug grin and he sat back in his chair as Danny returned with our drinks.
“Thank you,” I smiled up to him and I grabbed my glass before it could touch the table, taking a big gulp.
The alcohol burned down my throat, and I regretted my pace when I tasted the drink, the martini actually being the best one I ever tasted in my life.
“I’ll come back in a minute to take your dinner orders, if that’s okay with you,” Danny said and I nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” Chris mumbled as he waved Danny away.
Jesus, so having money meant not having manners?
“I’m actually in the race to become senior partner,” Chris continued and I narrowed my eyes for a second, before realizing he had picked up where we had left off with our conversation.
“Yeah the position comes with a massive raise,” he interrupted and I rested my chin on my palm, not caring that my elbow was on the table.
Just give it a chance, Jordan. He’s just proud of his achievement.
“I’ll be working longer hours, of course. But it’ll all be worth it when I get my salary increase,” he smirked and he took a sip of his drink.
“Eh, yeah,” I mumbled, and my face lit up when I spotted Danny coming our way.
“Did you make your decision?” he asked, folding his hands in front of his chest.
“Yes, I would like—” I started but I shifted my head back in surprise and annoyance when Chris interrupted me, again.
“I’ll have the filet mignon with asparagus, and she’ll have the Caesar salad,” he said and he closed his menu, daring to smile at me as he did.