Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 179189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 896(@200wpm)___ 717(@250wpm)___ 597(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 896(@200wpm)___ 717(@250wpm)___ 597(@300wpm)
That, and the fact I can’t get his weird dance out of my head.
Somehow, it just breaks all the expectations I had coming into this interview. It’s like I’m desperately trying to keep this image of a boring firm run by an old, bearded man who can barely fit into his pants intact.
And then there’s him … TJ Morrows.
Charming, hilarious, and hot as hell.
And he runs this company.
There must be a catch because this can’t be all there is. Right?
“So an internship at Morrows, is it?” He sits back in his chair and fastens the lower buttons of his suit jacket. “I’ve read your resumé; it’s quite impressive.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to smile too hard. “I try my best to make a good impression.”
“You have.” There it is again. That million-dollar smile that’s probably ruined more than a handful of girls.
I can’t be the next.
“So was there any particular reason you applied with us? I couldn’t find much about your background or the reasoning behind your application, so I figured I’d ask,” he says.
“Well, I’m just very interested in how you run things here. You’re doing so well in the market right now. Your company knows exactly how to give the customer what it wants, and I’m intrigued to learn more. I want to be just as good, but I also want to be an asset to this company,” I say, swallowing.
Obviously, half of that was horseshit. I have no clue what they’re doing, and how they’re doing it. I applied to like fifty companies, and this is one of five that actually replied. I just know that, with my drive and ambition, I’m a good fit anywhere.
“Right …” he mumbles, checking over the resumé on his desk with just his eyes while his body remains rigid like a rock. Only when he takes a breath does his suit … and the muscles underneath it … move. And for some reason, I can’t help but bite my lip at the sight.
Too bad he catches me right in the act.
I stop immediately and cover my mouth with my hand, coughing. “Sorry, itchy throat.”
“Hmm …” he hums. I wonder what it means. “So tell me what your background is.”
“Well, I’m a college grad. Studied marketing and business. I’ve got a passion for running a company.”
“Really, do you now?” he muses, holding my resumé like it’s some kind of rap sheet, looking back and forth between it and me.
“Yes, I want to start my own company one day, and to do that, I need some experience. And I’m highly interested in learning under your wing.”
“Under my wing …” he repeats, cocking his head while reading the paper.
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Whatever you need, I’m your girl. You won’t find anyone more dedicated to work than I am, Mr. Morrows.”
His lip twitches and he looks up at me with a glare. Shit, did I say something bad?
“Call me TJ.”
Strange. He doesn’t want me to call him by his surname? Okay. I wonder why, but I’m cool with it.
“Well, TJ, I think I can be a great asset to your company,” I say.
However, he’s not budging from his spot. In fact, he seems uncomfortably indecisive. Which is confusing because he seemed so enthusiastic when I came in. I wonder what changed. Was it something I said? Or am I just not convincing enough?
He rubs his lips together and looks at his laptop for a moment, then back at me, and then back at the laptop. What is he looking at? My resumé? But it’s in his hands.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Well …” He sighs, and he looks me up and down again before staring at his laptop again. He lowers his eyes and mumbles, “Right.”
“What?”
“Look, Lesley.” He cocks his head. “Can I call you Lesley?”
“Yeah.” I frown, wondering where this is going.
“I don’t think this is going to work out, to be honest.”
Shit. “Was it something I said or put in my resumé? Because I can tell you, hands down, I’ll be a thousand times better than what you think I’ll be.”
He chuckles. “I like your confidence, Lesley. But this just won’t work. I’m sorry.”
I sigh a little. “Could you tell me why?”
His lips part, but after staring at his laptop again, nothing leaves his mouth. It’s like he’s drawing blanks and just trying to make something up. That, or he just found the juiciest gossip there is to find about me, which would surprise me. I hardly do anything remotely interesting enough to warrant gossip.
Then again … these office types know just how to dig deep enough to get all the juicy details you don’t want out there. Maybe he looked at my Facebook profile and decided I wasn’t it. I probably should set it to private now that I think about it.