Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“Are you running from the cops or something, Miss?” The driver’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Should I drive faster?”
“No, I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Just pre-interview jitters.”
“Oh, you have an interview at this firm?” he asked. “You look really young…”
“I graduated college early.”
“Impressive.” He smiled. “You must be one hell of a lawyer to get invited to apply at that place. I’ve heard it’s the best.”
“Me, too…” I didn’t try to extend our conversation; I was trying to keep all my stories straight.
I’d told him the truth; it just wasn’t mine.
“Let’s just cap this at sixty-three dollars and eighty-five cents.” He turned off the meter. “I won’t charge you for the next block, since we’re hitting traffic.”
“Thank you very much.” I opened the door and let up my umbrella.
“Are you paying with cash or with a credit card?”
“It’ll be via cash, but…It’ll have to be sometime next week.”
“What?”
“I wrote down your cab license number, and I swear I’ll pay you back if I get this job. Wish me luck!” I jumped out of the car before he could grab me.
Weaving through tourists, I dodged puddles and rushed down the street.
With minutes to spare, I walked up the stone steps that led into the gleaming glass building that held Hamilton & Associates.
Pushing the doors open, I held back a gasp as I looked around the sparkling marble lobby.
“Welcome to the firm.” A brunette smiled from behind the desk. “How may I help you today?”
“I received an invitation for a nine thirty interview.”
I opened my briefcase, rummaging for the silk invitation and handed it to her.
She wrote something on a sheet and walked me to the elevator.
Hitting a button, she motioned for me to step inside, but she didn’t join me.
“Good luck, Miss Tanner.”
“Thank you.”
I stared at my reflection in the mirrored doors, smoothing my curls.
The car stopped abruptly, and the doors glided open to reveal a single sign with an arrow pointed to the left. I followed it into a colossal meeting room with beautiful floor-length windows.
A long table stood at its center, with a chair on both ends, each set with folders and pens.
“He’ll be right in to interview you, Miss Tanner.” A pretty woman in grey pulled out a chair for me. “He’s not usually late, but he had a bit of car trouble this morning.”
I bit my tongue before I could say, “Likewise.”
She set a coffee carafe on the far side of the table, and then she set a single mug near me.
“Wait a minute,” I said as she approached the door.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Hamilton’s wife is Aubrey Everhart and she’s a former world class ballerina, right?”
“Um, yes…” She shot me a confused look. “Why?”
“I’ve been studying him ever since I received the invitation,” I said. “I’ve watched a few of her performances on YouTube, and I…I just want to make sure I give a good first impression.”
She gave me a blank stare. “He’ll be with you shortly.”
I set my briefcase in my lap and nervously flicked the buckle up and down.
Stop it, Elizabeth. Focus.
You’re a lawyer. A real deal lawyer.
Moving the briefcase to the floor, I stared straight ahead and went over my small talk notes again.
The door opened moments later and I smiled, prepared to shower Mr. Hamilton with the many ways I admired his career, but the man who walked in was taller with darker hair. There was no wedding band on his left hand, and his familiar, unforgettable lips were the ones I’d seen less than an hour ago.
Mr. Not Guilty.
“Good morning, and welcome to—” He stopped talking when his eyes met mine. He stared at me, and a slow smirk crossed his lips. “Hello again, Miss Lawyer.”
“Um…” I hesitated for a few seconds, debating whether I should run away now. I hadn’t prepared for a glitch in my plans.
“Good—” My breath hitched. “Good morning.”
Keeping his eyes on mine, he walked to the other side of the table and took a seat. He picked up a folder and flipped it open.
“So, your name is Elizabeth Nicole Tanner?” he asked.
All I could do was nod.
He’d changed suits since we last met, and this one was far more lethal.
“Hmmm.” He picked up the carafe and poured a cup of coffee. Then he brought the mug to his lips.
Taking a long sip, he didn’t say a word.
He just stared at me.
“Um…” I cleared my throat. “I was expecting to meet with Mr. Andrew Hamilton.”
“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side, smiling a perfect set of pearly whites. “And why is that?”
I stared at him, unable to force a single word from my lips. This man was utter perfection at every angle.
“It’s honestly better if I do the interview,” he said. “Mr. Hamilton has a zero percent hiring rate.”
“Oh, okay.” I swallowed. “Well, what’s your hiring rate?”