Chapter 5 Ian
The morning thus far had been a disaster. The past few months had been a disaster, really. One of the very few people in my life I’d cared for had been murdered, and the investigation had only found small clues.
It made me angry and frustrated. The best way to work out the emotions clouding my mind would be to take on the training of a new assistant. I hit the elevator button, ready to get these interviews over with. A process which had pretty good odds of being an even worse waste of time than my meeting had been.
Just before the doors closed, a delicate, manicured hand thrust between them, causing them to reopen.
An attractive young woman attached to the hand barreled straight into me. I caught a faint whiff of flowers, probably from her shampoo, but no perfume. I liked the faint scent of her.
The day might be looking up just a little.
She stammered an apology in a husky voice, so I refrained from telling her this was my private elevator. I wanted to see what happened.
The faint blush on her cheeks was endearing. I gave an inward chuckle at her obviously frazzled state.
“I’m so sorry,” she muttered again, but quieter this time.
Instead of moving toward me, as women normally did, she stepped further away.
Interesting.
Could she be genuinely embarrassed?
If so, her easily-read feelings made a refreshing change from the typical person I interacted with. In my world, people didn’t let their emotions show through their tough exterior. They were always asking for something or playing a game of some type.
An honest person stood out. Mostly as a potential victim.
I gave her an appraising glance and smiled. She glanced away, her flush deepening, a flicker of confusion on her face.
For a moment, I let my mind linger on the possibility that she was interviewing to be one of my assistants. It had been a while since I’d had an assistant of this type.
She piqued my interest. That didn’t happen often anymore.
While her outfit of business slacks and a blouse was a little drab, she had a natural beauty that make-up and the right outfit would enhance.
The classic method of trying to find the right assistant was always hit or miss and took time I didn’t have to spare. I needed someone that had fire in their gut and a passion to handle my needs. There were too many demands placed on me, so I had to have the right person to even everything out.
The woman in the elevator fidgeted, hands shifting, clenching and unclenching on her bag.
She squared her shoulders, as if she’d reached a decision. Her mouth opened just as the elevator dinged.
Never having been one to wait on others, I walked quickly through the now open doors and away from her.
Oh, well, I’d get to see her in the interview office soon enough, if that was what she was here for. If it was important, she’d have to learn to speak up.
With rare amusement and anticipation singing in my blood, I made my way into the office.
Not pausing at the reception desk, I turned to close the door to my office and found the little spitfire had followed me.
The door shut just as she approached.
I could hear her splutter faintly through the large oak door.
I smiled at the door. With her presence for an interview confirmed, today had just gotten very interesting.
Settling into the leather upholstery of my office chair, I relaxed in the muted tones of the room. My office was decorated to fit my personal tastes and needs. Soundproofed, it was swept for bugs daily to ensure that no one was trying to steal my technology.
Both I and my company required privacy.
I sent a message to my personal security guard.
Rossi, I believe I’ve found the perfect candidate. She just came through the door. Please find out her name and any other information you can so that we can vet her properly.
He responded quickly.
Yes, sir.
Rossi was very talented and would be able to get information about this mystery woman while finishing up vetting the other women in the outer waiting room.
A flick of a finger turned my computer screen on, and I glanced through the first set of files for any red flags. If I found someone that looked promising, then I’d have Rossi do a deeper dive after the interview.
After just ten minutes, well into the tedium of vetting the interviewees, my phone rang.
“Sir, her name is Collette DeLandro. She just graduated with a master’s in library science. She’s a qualified competitive intelligence analyst for data research. She has no family ties that I could uncover.” Rossi spoke in a clear, succinct manner.
“She’s been trying to get a job since graduation. For unknown reasons, she stopped abruptly three weeks ago. She came here to San Francisco, and this is the first job that she’s tried to interview for in this area.”
“Well, that is interesting. It could mean a variety of things, but I’d like you to go ahead and do a deeper dive on her now. I feel that she may very well be what I’m looking for.” I gave the order, knowing that he would do whatever I asked of him quickly and well. I required obedience and loyalty from my personal employees,
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to look into her finances as well?” He was well paid to make sure that my assets—both physical and financial—were protected.
“Please do.” An unfamiliar smile settled onto my face. “I believe I will see the other interviewees first. Which leaves her till the last, and a nice way to find out how much she really wants this position.”
“Very good, sir,” Rossi said and quickly hung up the phone. He was abrupt, but he anticipated my needs. More than most bodyguards were required to do, and after our years together, he had become someone that I trusted implicitly to carry out my wishes without asking questions. If there was something to find about her, he would uncover it.
Uninterested in the files or information on the others, I hit the intercom button.
“Kathy, will you please send in the first person?”
The next hour combined all the high points of boredom and predictability as woman after woman traipsed in and out of my office. Similar body language to showcase any physical asset they had.
And the answers to my questions…
“Why do you want this job? How would you benefit the company?” Each question and answer took only minutes.
Their answers were variations on the same response to the questions I asked. Nothing original.
“It would be an honor to work with you.”
“The perfect opportunity.”
Blah, blah, blah.
Colette wouldn’t have those same problems. She was fresh, wide-eyed and passionate.
She had managed to fill my thoughts to the point that I couldn’t get her out of my mind. All I could see were Colette’s dark brown eyes and long, fluttering lashes as she tried to hide her face in the elevator.
So, I used the same spiel over and over again.
“I’m sorry that we won’t be able to use you at this time. Thank you for applying,” I repeated to each applicant as I escorted them to the large doors. “Check back with us later to see if we have any other openings available.”
How had she caught my attention? What was it about her that made her different or stand out from all those other women?
I wanted to see her again, speak with her, and see if she lived up to the image in my head. My hard-won control evaporated. I’d opened the door for the next applicant when I heard her voice.
“That’s your highest dream or goal? To work for some overbearing prick that doesn’t care about you?” Her words were spoken from the heart, as if she knew all about men who were pricks only looking for one thing.
I was familiar with women feeling like that from mismatched expectations. It was why I did such a thorough vetting process. I didn’t want any woman to feel taken advantage of or mistreated if she signed the contract for this job.
It made life simpler when everyone knew what was required of them. In exchange for loyalty and quick responses to my orders, I took a personal approach to each of my employees’ lives, making sure not only were they well taken care of financially, but that their home lives and families didn’t suffer because they worked for me.
No more waiting. “Ms. DeLandro, would you step into my office?”
She jumped, those remarkable eyes meeting mine, her shock that I already knew her name plain to see. She would just have to get used to the fact that I was one step ahead of the rest of the world.
The other women who had been ahead of her shifted in readiness to protest, but I simply glared at them until they stopped. I didn’t like being questioned or whined at.
After our run-in on the elevator, she’d unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. It was a maneuver that drew attention to all of her curves while showing off her best assets and appearing businesslike at the same time.
Certain that she was the one I’d been looking for, I was tempted to just tell the receptionist to send all the rest of them home.
But I needed to make sure that she was a willing participant before giving her the position.
The list of questions I had asked the other applicants had only been three. For her, I’d managed to add quite a few that would have normally been asked in a second interview to determine compatibility.
“You have no other ties? No boyfriends? Anything that would hinder you from working for me?” Irritation and jealousy surged through me at the thought of her having a boyfriend or lover. I didn’t want anyone else’s hands on her. Only mine.
“No, no boyfriends.”
“Well, you appear to be in good health. Are there any reasons I shouldn’t hire you?”
Her brows raised in surprise at the question. She paused for a moment before saying, “No, there aren’t many reasons you shouldn’t hire me. Or at least none that I know of.”
Her expression and words felt honest, but her moment of hesitation gave me a prick of unease. I would have to remember that possible deception.
Everything else seemed in place and surprisingly, she was qualified for the job at hand beyond her looks and personality. Her skills with data research would come in handy.
“Rossi will give you the contract and take care of any other issues,” I instructed in a dismissive tone as I collected my coat, draping it over my arm.
He appeared behind me with the papers.
With a slight nod to Rossi, I opened the large oak doors and walked out without giving Colette a second look. I paused by the reception desk and greeted Kathy with a smile.
“Kathy, I believe that we found our candidate for today. You may send everyone else home.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered easily.
“Also, I just wanted to make sure you knew that I will be out for the rest of the week, while I get the new assistant oriented.” I kept my back to the room’s waiting occupants, the better to ignore them. “How’s your mom doing?”
Her mother had had knee replacement surgery the week before. Kathy had been fretting about how it was going to go. Her mother would have a hard time staying off her knee for any length of time, and I knew it had been a difficult adjustment for my receptionist not being there for her mother.
“She’s doing well. Thank you for asking, sir.” Kathy smiled. “She really appreciated the flowers you sent. I can’t believe you got her Stargazer lilies, they’re her favorite.”
“Well, you do a great job for us. We like to extend our gratitude, which includes taking care of your family, too. She should have her favorite flowers to brighten up the room.”
Kathy smiles. “There was a call for you while you were interviewing Ms DeLandro. From Mr. Johnson. He wouldn’t say what it was regarding. Just that you needed to call him back, and that he felt it was an urgent matter.” She handed me a slip of paper with a phone number written on it in her neat, precise handwriting.
“That is highly unusual.” I frowned.
“Yes, sir. He seemed quite agitated.”
“All right. I’ll take care of it.”
Kathy rose from the desk and cleared her throat.
“I have an announcement…” she began, her tone firm but empathetic.
Hurriedly, I headed to the elevator, wanting to leave before any scene the rejected women might make. I didn’t have time to deal with emotional people. I learned from that mistake years ago.
I stepped onto the ground floor parking area moments later. My phone buzzed discreetly and the number on the paper Kathy had given me appeared on my cell phone.
How on earth this Johnson person discovered my private number was something I’d deal with later. Harshly. I did not appreciate my privacy being invaded.
Anger at the employee who had made such a major mistake sharpened my tone as I answered.
“Yes.”
“Um, yes, is this business your whole industry?”
An odd question, and also none of his business.
“How did you get this number?” I demanded, done with waiting.
“Well, I did my research, sir,” he began, stumbling over his words.
“That doesn’t bode well for you.” My voice dripped with anger and dark promise.
“Sir, the shipping director told me I needed to get in contact with you personally. But he wouldn’t tell me how to do it and left me with no other options.” The man, presumably Mr. Johnson, had a voice that sounded flustered, on the verge of some emotional breakdown.
“Then why are you calling me? Why isn’t he taking this call instead of some idiot that has no idea what he’s doing?” I kept my tone even while trying to regain control of my anger. The vein in my forehead pulsed, sending tiny jolts of pain through my head.
“Well, sir, he’s dead.” The last word squeaked out of him.
I muted the call.
“Fuck!” I kicked the tire of my car, not caring about damage to it or my shoe, and held the phone back to my ear, turning the volume back on.
“That doesn’t change things on your end, does it.” My tone kept the words from being a question. Whoever this was would take over the duties of his superior.
“No, sir.” He hurried to reassure me. “No, sir. It doesn’t change anything down here. Everything’s going according to plan and there’ll be no changes to the shipment.”
“Good.” I let the word hang in the air. “Otherwise, the consequences of my displeasure can be quite harsh.” I paused for a moment to let my words sink in. “I’m going to need the information on when that other cargo is expected to arrive.”
“Yes, sir. According to Mr. Kane’s notes, he has it listed to arrive on the tenth.”
I refrained from cursing out loud again, despite a strong desire to do so.
“That is unacceptable. Those that arrive on the tenth won’t be paid, as the timeline for receiving them will have expired.” Fiery irritation coursed through me.
Why couldn’t anyone get things done in a proper manner? Was it so hard to get a job done? To keep your word?
What was wrong with the world?
“I would hate to remind you of the consequences of failure,” I warned.
“How would I know what…” He trailed off as if suddenly connecting the dots.
“Do you think you can do a better job than Mr. Kane did at making sure my shipment is here on time?”
“Yes, sir. Er, I’ll call you back tomorrow with the updated information on that shipment.”
“See that you do.” I hung up the phone. No reason to waste more time on that conversation.
The good mood I’d managed to acquire while talking to Collette had evaporated completely.
I exhaled and straightened my jacket and tie, taking a moment to consider the situation. Damn. I was soured by the whole conversation.
Losing staff annoyed me.
Rossi texted.
She signed the papers.
That helped the mood a bit.
I’m about to bring her into the parking garage now.
A spark of anticipation heated me up and calmed the throbbing in my head.
Collette’s curves had filled out the very modest outfit she’d been wearing. A tease of the things she had hidden underneath the surface.
With a surge of anticipation, I settled in the driver’s seat of my silver Lexus, content to sit and await Rossi’s arrival.