Job interviews are always a bit awkward when you're already employed. It feels like you're sneaking around.
But I couldn’t stick around at Vlashion.
I needed an escape plan.
I managed to avoid Mr. Daniels—he was nursing a headache in his office, and I couldn’t have been more relieved.
I slipped out of the office at 10 a.m., dressed to the nines, hailed a cab, and arrived at The Grand Hotel by 11:15 a.m.
The interview wasn’t until noon, but I was a bundle of nerves and didn’t want to risk being late.
I was wearing my favorite light blue sheath dress: it was snug, had cute cap sleeves, and hugged my curves just right.
And the best part, my secret weapon for interviews: it had a golden zipper that ran all the way down the back. Talk about making an exit.
All while keeping it professional, of course.
I wore my grandmother’s pearl earrings for good luck.
And my classic black heels tied the whole look together.
It was a bit fancier than my usual work attire, but if I could land this job, it would be a godsend.
For two reasons.
First, it would mean escaping Daniels.
And second, it would be a fresh start at a company that I really admired, at least from what I could see.
I would find out soon enough.
It was strange to be back at The Grand Hotel so soon. I knew there were offices on the upper floors, but I had no idea who or what was up there.
I’d never had a reason to explore the building, so I didn’t even know Hawksley Enterprises had offices here until Rufus emailed me.
As I walked through the lobby, Amy caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up:
The elevator doors slid open. I pressed “23,” and waited for the doors to close.
I smoothed out my dress, checked my heels for scuffs, and gave my hair and makeup a quick once-over.
How often do you get a chance to interview at a company like Hawksley Enterprises?
Finally, the doors began to close.
But before they could, a hand shot through to stop them.
I was running late, but that was nothing new. When your last name is Hawksley, people tend to wait for you.
But when your first name is Julian, people usually just ask, “Do you spell it with an ‘A’ or an ‘E’”?
Breakfast with Jensen had run long, which always seemed to happen when I needed to vent.
I’d been trying to be more open, to communicate more.
Grace was stunning, but our constant bickering and fighting was exhausting. I couldn’t see myself dealing with that forever.
Not that I saw myself as a “forever” kind of guy, when “for now” was so much more fun.
I saw the elevator doors starting to close and sprinted over to catch them.
I stuck my hand in the gap, and the sensors reopened the doors.
“Zoey Curtis!” I exclaimed. Her jaw dropped at the sight of me. I was used to this reaction, I called it “The billionaire effect,” but Zoey quickly tried to hide her surprise.
Or at least she tried to…
“Why would I?”
“Well, is it a coincidence that we meet, you borrow my magazine, and then a few hours later, I get an email for a job interview at your company?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. So, no.”
“So…I’m not interviewing with you?”
“Who were you emailing with?” I asked.
“Rufus Fletcher,” she answered.
“Rufus! Great guy. You’ll enjoy chatting with him—a real gentleman! A Brit—though I’m sure you already knew that. Tip Number Eight: Do Your Research.” I grinned.
She looked puzzled. “What?”
“From your magazine. The job hunting tips.”
She nodded, remembering. “Right… Well, anything’s better than where I am now,” she said.
I grimaced. “Ouch—what happened to Tip Number Five? Never badmouth a previous employer?”
She didn’t believe me at first, but my calm demeanor eventually convinced her.
I shrugged nonchalantly and nodded.
Her jaw practically hit the floor. She was so much fun to tease.
The elevator slowed to pick someone up on the fourth floor. I swiped my ID badge over a sensor, and the elevator skipped the stop and continued ascending.
She looked at me, a bit judgmental. “You know you’re holding people up when you do that?” she asked.
With a sigh, I backed away from the buttons.
He saw the judgment in my eyes and brushed it off.
“Okay…?”
Right on cue, the elevator slowed for another stop, this time on the ninth floor. Once again, he swiped his badge and the elevator resumed its climb.
I responded, “Wow. A real humanitarian.”
He winked at me. “Guilty as charged. But let’s keep it between us. Once word gets out, the phone never stops ringing.”
“I’ve got a bad boy reputation to uphold,” he continued. “How else am I supposed to get women to give me a second glance?”
I took his question as an invitation and let my eyes roam over him. He was dressed in an Armani suit, minus the blazer and tie, with the top buttons of his shirt undone.
It was a hot day, and he must have unbuttoned his collar to let some of the heat escape.
Suddenly, I realized my thoughts were veering off in a dangerous direction.
“Is that still your goal, getting second looks from women? I knew you were a CEO… I didn’t know you were such a player.”
He smiled, clearly enjoying the banter. “I bet you know exactly who I am.”
I’d been with Ben for three years and I felt like I’d forgotten how to flirt.
“This is good. I was worried I’d make a fool of myself today, but I can see I already did that, so I can relax.”
“You’re definitely not a fool,” he replied, giving me a quick once-over. “You’re curious, confident, punctual, and you’re totally rocking Number Three with that outfit. I bet you’ll ace the interview.”
“How do you know I’m punctual?” I asked.
“Just a hunch.” He held my gaze as the elevator swiftly ascended to the twenty-third floor. I tried to hold his gaze, but it was a struggle.
The doors opened, and Mr. Hawksley stepped out first, turning back to me for a quick final word. “I’d wish you luck, but winners don’t need it. Go get ’em, winner.”
He winked and disappeared down a hallway.
I stood there for a moment. My heart was pounding as if I’d run up the stairs.
Sure, I was nervous and excited about the interview... but, honestly, Julian had me even more flustered.
My relationship with Ben had its passionate moments, but I’d spent a lot of time feeling cold while he was away...
And talking with Julian had me feeling incredibly warm.
I definitely needed to tell April and Amy about running into him again.
I wondered: if I got the job, would I have these casual encounters with Mr. Hawksley?
I stepped out of the elevator and approached the receptionist. “Excuse me, I’m here for an interview, I’m looking for Rufus Fletcher’s office?”
She pointed behind her to a slightly ajar door.
I approached and peeked into the office. There was a man at a standing desk: late forties, short hair, and an engineer’s focus.
The nameplate on the wall read “Rufus Fletcher: Executive Liaison to the CEO.” I knocked lightly on the door.
“Mr. Fletcher?” I asked.
“Yes?” he replied with a British accent, not looking away from his screen.
“Mr. Fletcher, I’m Zoey Curtis, you contacted me about an interview?”
He turned and removed his bifocals. “Zoey! Rufus, pleasure to meet you, wonderful, welcome, come on in!” We shook hands.
“You’re a saint for fitting us into your schedule today, I apologize for the short notice. You’re definitely scoring points for flexibility. I’ll bet you had a crazy morning, eh?”
“Glad to hear it. About the points. Uh, no, the morning wasn’t bad,” I lied.
I wasn’t sure if the interview had started, and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
He held the door open to the conference room, “Right this way, Ms. Curtis. Do you prefer ‘Zoey’?”
“Zoey!” I heard the voice from the conference room before I saw the speaker, but my body responded by instantly heating up.
It wasn’t a problem with the air conditioning; the heat was coming from me. From between my legs.
I recognized the voice.
There, at the end of the conference table, building a house with business cards, was Julian!
“You made it!” he said. “And you’re even early—you’re off to a great start!”
I was interviewing with Julian Hawksley.
