Sinful Secrets

I’m sitting in the lobby at Hartford & Associates law firm, waiting to be called back for my interview. My fingers nervously play with the end of my ash-blonde braid as I try not to fidget in my seat. This is my first big interview since graduating college three days ago, and I’m so ready to get it over with.

I really need this job. I worked hard maintaining my grades and following the rules for four years to get my degree, and now that I have it, I’m finally ready to start living. But trying to survive off a part-time, minimum-wage job isn’t the best option.

“Ms. Casidy? Mr. Lambert will see you now,” says the receptionist.

I stand up, smoothing my hands over my knee-length, black pencil skirt. They’re shaking.

“Have a seat, Ms. Casidy.”

The man behind the desk is beyond attractive. Even sitting, I can tell he’s tall and well-built. His cool, brown eyes command my attention, and his dark-brown hair looks like he has been running his fingers through it repeatedly.

I slowly walk to the chair in front of his desk and take a seat.

“Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity to interview for this position.”

He gives me a curt nod and looks back down at my resume, barely glancing at me.

“Looks like you just graduated with a degree in criminal justice but have minimal relevant work experience. Have you any field experience?”

His bored, condescending tone is making my blood boil.

“No, sir. It was hard to get any experience when no one wanted to hire me without the degree, but now that I have it, no one wants to hire me without work experience. Seems like a catch-22 if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you, Ms. Casidy. Unfortunately—”

A sudden knock on the door startles me.

“Enter,” he demands. Mr. Lambert seems annoyed by the interruption.

The man that enters is tall, with black hair pulled into a sexy little man bun and piercing blue eyes. His expensive suit hugs his muscles tightly.

“Hey Evan, we going to get lunch soon?” he asks.

“I’m about finished here. I’ll meet you in the lobby,” Mr. Lambert says, fingers massaging his temples.

He’s clearly not interested in offering me a job, and I’m not about to sit here and be treated like I’m beneath him. I rise from the chair.

“Ms. Casidy—”

I shoot him a pointed look.

“No, I think we’re done. You have no interest in hiring me, and I have no interest in being degraded for my lack of experience. I wish I could say I appreciate that you took the time to see me, but I think we both know that would be a lie. Good day, Mr. Lambert.”

I exit his office quickly, the door slamming behind me. As I walk by the reception desk, the woman behind it gives me an apologetic look. She must be fully aware of how much of an asshole that man is.

I leave the building and make my way down the street to the small diner on the corner where my friend Carla works.

“Hey, beautiful! Take a seat wherever you want. I’ll be right with you!” Carla shouts as soon as she sees me walk in.

I head to a booth in the back and slide in.

“It’s quiet in here today,” I say when she makes her way over.

Carla gives me a scolding look, her big, brown eyes narrowing.

“Don’t say that! It’s like walking into an emergency room and saying, ‘It’s a slow night.’ Then suddenly, half the city comes in!”

I shake my head at her and take the menu from her hands.

“Can I get a coffee, hun?”

She nods at me and walks back behind the counter, grabs a coffee cup and the carafe, and heads back over to me. The door opens, and several people enter at once, causing me to giggle softly.

“So, how did the interview go?” she asks as she pours me a cup.

I roll my eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“I don’t have enough field experience. And the guy was an arrogant dick. Good-looking as all hell, but fuck…”

“Well, if they can’t see how lucky they’d be to have you, then it’s their loss,” she says with an apologetic smile.

I finish looking over the menu and hand it back to her.

“Can I just get a club sandwich to go? I need to get back so I can finish moving my shit out of the dorms.”

She nods, then bends down and kisses my forehead.

“Of course. I know we’ve talked about it before, but Chaz has been looking for a few people to work at the club. It’s good pay and full-time hours. Why don’t you come with me tonight and talk to him?”

My cheeks burn just thinking about Chaz’s club. From what Carla tells me, it’s kind of like a gentleman’s club but with a little something extra. She didn’t go into detail, but just the thought was enough for me to push it off.

“Sure. Any job is better than the one I’ve got,” I say.

We laugh as she walks back and hands my order to the chef. I watch as she scurries around, taking orders and tending to customers. Then I see him. That brown-haired, godlike asshole, Mr. Lambert, and he’s looking right at me.