That Guy (An Indecent Proposal Book 1) by J.C. Reed, Jackie Steele
Authors: J.C. Reed, Jackie Steele
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THAT GUY
Out of all the dates in my life, Tuesday at 10 a.m. was
about the worst time disaster could strike. I was sitting in the waiting area
of LiveInvent Designs—the one place where I had been dying to get an interview
since finishing college.
Apart from me, nineteen other graduates were waiting for
their big chance, all dressed in immaculate, tailored business suits—the
kind I couldn’t afford. But what I couldn’t offer in expensive clothes, I knew
I could make up in hard work and dedication. I was a professional, and as such
I was determined to make a good impression.
“Lauren Hanson?”
I straightened up in my seat and smiled as one of the
personal assistants called my name. “Yes.” I stood and took a deep breath,
waiting for further instructions.
“Please take the elevator up to the thirtieth floor. Someone
will be expecting you.”
The thirtieth floor.
According to LiveInvent’s website, it was the place where
the big-shot strategists worked. Los Angeles wasn’t just home to some of the
greatest marketing companies in the United States; it was also the best place
to get started and to experience an environment of “what if,” not just “if
only.”
When I applied for a graduate position as a marketing
assistant, I had never even considered the possibility that one of them might
like my resume enough to want to meet me personally. But now it was happening.
My dream was coming true.
I brushed my hands over my gray skirt nervously and with
measured steps made my way to the elevator area, ignoring the people ambling up
and down the corridor in their immaculate expensive clothes, seemingly
oblivious to the outside world. They were probably used to their simple yet
sophisticated surroundings, with marble floors and beautiful peonies, and calla
lilies arranged in crystal centerpieces. The walls were adorned with polished
frames displaying awards and the company’s most successful projects showcased
like little trophies.
I stopped in front of the elevators, and sighed happily.
This wasn’t just any workplace—it was heaven. And I wanted to be a part of
it. Whatever it took.
This was my dream.
It had to come
true.
A bell chimed, and one of the three elevator doors opened,
giving me a view of a small but tastefully decorated space. Soft music was
playing in the background at a pleasant volume. As I stepped into the small
elevator, I bumped into someone.
It happened so quickly: my CV folder slipped out of my hands
and dropped to the floor. I squatted to reach for the folder when I noticed the
pair of black, expensive slacks. I raised my eyes slowly, taking in the custom
suit. No, it wasn’t so much the suit, but more the tall height, his black hair,
his broad shoulders, the sexy male fragrance he was wearing, that drew my
attention to him.
His Rolex suggested that he wasn’t an applicant. Probably an
executive.
Before I knew it, the bell chimed again. I rose to my feet
quickly before the doors closed again.
I pressed the backlit button embossed with the number
thirty. No need to check him out, not when I didn’t know if he wasn’t an
interviewer. Getting the job was more important than checking out the next hot
guy.
I turned my back on him, and mentally recollected my primed
answers to possible interview questions.
Breathe in, breathe
out.
This was it…my big chance.
All my life I had worked hard for this exact day. Just a few
more seconds. And then I would give it all my best, because I just had to have
this job.
There was no possibility, no other option, no what-ifs.
If I wanted to make it in the business world and get out of
my outstanding debt, I had to go the extra mile. I was ready—more than
ever because any other outcome wasn’t an option.
My hands turned clammy from my increasing nervousness, and
my mouth went a little dry. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn’t
register that the elevator had stopped moving until a little shake told me
something
Out of all the dates in my life, Tuesday at 10 a.m. was
about the worst time disaster could strike. I was sitting in the waiting area
of LiveInvent Designs—the one place where I had been dying to get an interview
since finishing college.
Apart from me, nineteen other graduates were waiting for
their big chance, all dressed in immaculate, tailored business suits—the
kind I couldn’t afford. But what I couldn’t offer in expensive clothes, I knew
I could make up in hard work and dedication. I was a professional, and as such
I was determined to make a good impression.
“Lauren Hanson?”
I straightened up in my seat and smiled as one of the
personal assistants called my name. “Yes.” I stood and took a deep breath,
waiting for further instructions.
“Please take the elevator up to the thirtieth floor. Someone
will be expecting you.”
The thirtieth floor.
According to LiveInvent’s website, it was the place where
the big-shot strategists worked. Los Angeles wasn’t just home to some of the
greatest marketing companies in the United States; it was also the best place
to get started and to experience an environment of “what if,” not just “if
only.”
When I applied for a graduate position as a marketing
assistant, I had never even considered the possibility that one of them might
like my resume enough to want to meet me personally. But now it was happening.
My dream was coming true.
I brushed my hands over my gray skirt nervously and with
measured steps made my way to the elevator area, ignoring the people ambling up
and down the corridor in their immaculate expensive clothes, seemingly
oblivious to the outside world. They were probably used to their simple yet
sophisticated surroundings, with marble floors and beautiful peonies, and calla
lilies arranged in crystal centerpieces. The walls were adorned with polished
frames displaying awards and the company’s most successful projects showcased
like little trophies.
I stopped in front of the elevators, and sighed happily.
This wasn’t just any workplace—it was heaven. And I wanted to be a part of
it. Whatever it took.
This was my dream.
It had to come
true.
A bell chimed, and one of the three elevator doors opened,
giving me a view of a small but tastefully decorated space. Soft music was
playing in the background at a pleasant volume. As I stepped into the small
elevator, I bumped into someone.
It happened so quickly: my CV folder slipped out of my hands
and dropped to the floor. I squatted to reach for the folder when I noticed the
pair of black, expensive slacks. I raised my eyes slowly, taking in the custom
suit. No, it wasn’t so much the suit, but more the tall height, his black hair,
his broad shoulders, the sexy male fragrance he was wearing, that drew my
attention to him.
His Rolex suggested that he wasn’t an applicant. Probably an
executive.
Before I knew it, the bell chimed again. I rose to my feet
quickly before the doors closed again.
I pressed the backlit button embossed with the number
thirty. No need to check him out, not when I didn’t know if he wasn’t an
interviewer. Getting the job was more important than checking out the next hot
guy.
I turned my back on him, and mentally recollected my primed
answers to possible interview questions.
Breathe in, breathe
out.
This was it…my big chance.
All my life I had worked hard for this exact day. Just a few
more seconds. And then I would give it all my best, because I just had to have
this job.
There was no possibility, no other option, no what-ifs.
If I wanted to make it in the business world and get out of
my outstanding debt, I had to go the extra mile. I was ready—more than
ever because any other outcome wasn’t an option.
My hands turned clammy from my increasing nervousness, and
my mouth went a little dry. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn’t
register that the elevator had stopped moving until a little shake told me
something
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