open doors to this new profession of . . .
Anything but politics.
More than that. I’d go back to being useful. Needed. Busy. Things I clung to. Things that made me feel worth something. I had only been a week on the unemployment market and the lack of social life and the stillness of my empty apartment was closing in on me. Not to mention the get-the-fuck-out notice. My time was up.
“I’m the right person for this job, Leo,” I said, only a foot between us. “Look over my resume and you’ll see that.”
He smiled and the thing made my heart pound like a stressed-out hummingbird. “I always liked your confidence, Miss Levine.”
I wanted to scoff. If only he knew my “confidence” was a mask, covering up all my fears and everything I lacked. As if reading my mind, he said, “But I want something more than that.”
“Something more than my confidence?” I frowned.
“Yes. I want to know what’s not on the resume.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have a stack of capable candidates ready to take this position. People who have more experience, especially in this line of work. I know you were in politics. I know you have skills that would carry over into this kind of job. But why you, Paige? What makes you different?”
My throat closed. The answer was simple: I was desperate. Of course, I wouldn’t say that out loud. Usually, I’d spin this situation, this interview, to my advantage. But something about the way Leo looked at me made me feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like he could see straight to the heart of my problems and how I was drowning.
“I’m different because of my priorities.”
“Oh? And what would your priorities be?”
“You. This job. First and foremost.”
He took in my entire face and body in one hard look, leaving hot tremors raking over my skin. “That’s a pretty selfless notion, Miss Levine.”
I shook my head. “Not selfless. Logical. I gain as much as you would by having me. I don’t do anything halfway. I also don’t make poor investments into my future. This job is what I want. What I need, and in turn, I’m what you need. Because I’ll work beyond hard.”
“All or nothing kind of woman, huh?”
“Yes.”
His gaze lingered on my mouth for a moment and I couldn’t help but steal a glance at his.
“I like that,” he rasped.
I swallowed hard. I had him on the hook, and now it was time to get the power back. “Good, because now I want to tell you what I require.”
“Oh, please do,” he chuckled.
“After the three months are up—”
“Assuming I hire you.”
“I want a letter of recommendation. Personally signed by you.”
The home, job, and money would be the nest egg. What got me on my feet. But a letter of recommendation from the head of this type of company, along with work experience being an exec assistant to the CEO? That was my golden ticket. I’d be hirable again, even if it wasn’t in politics.
“My reputation and name on a document, much less vouching for someone, is a big deal, Red,” he said, as if I didn’t understand that already. “I’d only give you a personal letter of recommendation if you earned it. And I can tell you right now, my standards are high.”
I wanted to remind him that only a week ago, he was in ripped jeans and looked the part of delivery boy.
“I’m aware and am prepared to earn what I’m asking for.”
Just when I thought he was going to agree, he shook his head. “There’s something missing.”
“What?”
“You,” he said with a harsh tint to his voice. “You’re selling me, and doing a hell of a job”—he skated those eyes over me again—“but I can’t get past the front.”
“I’m not putting up a front.”
His mouth twitched a little. “Yes you are. I can sense it.”
“Then I don’t know what else you want from me.”
“I’ll settle for a piece of the real you.”
Now my mind was buzzing with confusion and terror. I was going to lose this opportunity. All because Leo
Anything but politics.
More than that. I’d go back to being useful. Needed. Busy. Things I clung to. Things that made me feel worth something. I had only been a week on the unemployment market and the lack of social life and the stillness of my empty apartment was closing in on me. Not to mention the get-the-fuck-out notice. My time was up.
“I’m the right person for this job, Leo,” I said, only a foot between us. “Look over my resume and you’ll see that.”
He smiled and the thing made my heart pound like a stressed-out hummingbird. “I always liked your confidence, Miss Levine.”
I wanted to scoff. If only he knew my “confidence” was a mask, covering up all my fears and everything I lacked. As if reading my mind, he said, “But I want something more than that.”
“Something more than my confidence?” I frowned.
“Yes. I want to know what’s not on the resume.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have a stack of capable candidates ready to take this position. People who have more experience, especially in this line of work. I know you were in politics. I know you have skills that would carry over into this kind of job. But why you, Paige? What makes you different?”
My throat closed. The answer was simple: I was desperate. Of course, I wouldn’t say that out loud. Usually, I’d spin this situation, this interview, to my advantage. But something about the way Leo looked at me made me feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like he could see straight to the heart of my problems and how I was drowning.
“I’m different because of my priorities.”
“Oh? And what would your priorities be?”
“You. This job. First and foremost.”
He took in my entire face and body in one hard look, leaving hot tremors raking over my skin. “That’s a pretty selfless notion, Miss Levine.”
I shook my head. “Not selfless. Logical. I gain as much as you would by having me. I don’t do anything halfway. I also don’t make poor investments into my future. This job is what I want. What I need, and in turn, I’m what you need. Because I’ll work beyond hard.”
“All or nothing kind of woman, huh?”
“Yes.”
His gaze lingered on my mouth for a moment and I couldn’t help but steal a glance at his.
“I like that,” he rasped.
I swallowed hard. I had him on the hook, and now it was time to get the power back. “Good, because now I want to tell you what I require.”
“Oh, please do,” he chuckled.
“After the three months are up—”
“Assuming I hire you.”
“I want a letter of recommendation. Personally signed by you.”
The home, job, and money would be the nest egg. What got me on my feet. But a letter of recommendation from the head of this type of company, along with work experience being an exec assistant to the CEO? That was my golden ticket. I’d be hirable again, even if it wasn’t in politics.
“My reputation and name on a document, much less vouching for someone, is a big deal, Red,” he said, as if I didn’t understand that already. “I’d only give you a personal letter of recommendation if you earned it. And I can tell you right now, my standards are high.”
I wanted to remind him that only a week ago, he was in ripped jeans and looked the part of delivery boy.
“I’m aware and am prepared to earn what I’m asking for.”
Just when I thought he was going to agree, he shook his head. “There’s something missing.”
“What?”
“You,” he said with a harsh tint to his voice. “You’re selling me, and doing a hell of a job”—he skated those eyes over me again—“but I can’t get past the front.”
“I’m not putting up a front.”
His mouth twitched a little. “Yes you are. I can sense it.”
“Then I don’t know what else you want from me.”
“I’ll settle for a piece of the real you.”
Now my mind was buzzing with confusion and terror. I was going to lose this opportunity. All because Leo
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