Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“Yes ideas,” adds Ranger from the other side of me. I turn to look at him. He’s just as gorgeous. Maybe a little bigger than Ryder, with his muscular build and powerful arms and legs, but just as intelligent and persuasive. “We’ve been looking for a marketing assistant for a while.”
I blink at them.
“Marketing?” I ask dumbly. “But for what?”
The men laugh, Ryder slapping my bottom playfully.
“For our office of course,” he says. “Epinine Medical.”
“But you’re the best,” I say, shaking my head. “Everyone knows that already. What marketing is there to do?”
“Everyone does know that we’re the best,” concedes Ranger, “but it’s because we make sure they know it. Because even if they know now, it doesn’t mean that they’ll remember tomorrow, or even next year when they finally decide they’re ready for that face lift. It’s marketing that does the trick. We send out materials all the time, and we’re often mentioned in all sorts of publications, from professional journals to drugstore-counter women’s magazines.”
I nod, realization dawning.
“Oh right. When I read Glamour and such, the articles on plastic surgery often have quotes from real doctors about different procedures. Wait, have you guys ever been in Glamour? Maybe I’ve read your stuff!”
Ranger chuckles.
“We have, indeed,” he remarks. “Many times, and we’ve even gotten to know their health and beauty reporter quite well. But see, it took a professional to put us in touch with the right person at Glamour, and it takes a professional to keep us in constant contact with the right people too. Otherwise, everyone forgets, and then Epinine is just going to be another chop shop tooting its own horn. The press provides us with awareness, and also legitimacy.”
I nod, taking this information in. Evidently, marketing is a relentless string of promotional activities that can take many forms. It sounds like a giant level of responsibility, and I don’t know much about it. But maybe I am the girl for the job because I’m ready to learn. I want to better myself, and to make something of myself, which isn’t going to be possible given my current dead-end job. After all, there’s no path up at Gen-Armor and anything from a layoff to a recession could mean devastation for me and Danny. I should give this new job a try, just because there’s the promise of opportunity and the ability to go someplace.
“Well,” I say in a timid voice. “If you’re serious about the job offer, then I’d be interested.”
The doctors look at one another over my head, as if communicating silently. Evidently they agree because then Ryder tweaks my nipple, making me gasp a little, before pressing another kiss to my lips.
“We are serious,” he says, raising his head. “Give us a month or so because we need to define the position a little more, and figure out benefits and salary and all that good stuff. But I think this is going to be a good fit for you, sweetheart, both professionally and personally. I think you’re going to be really happy.”
I don’t say anything in return, merely pressing my lips to his and then turning to do the same with Ranger. Delight suffuses my form because these men are everything to me. They go out of their way to make me happy in bed and out, and now, they’ve offered me a solid job with benefits on top of everything else. Granted, nothing is set in concrete yet, but I can already feel a heady buzz from the tips of my fingertips down to my toes. After all, these men are becoming everything to me now, and I hope they only feel the same about me.
15
Ryder
“Great work,” I say to Ranger while reading a patient’s chart. “You made the right decision.”
“Thanks,” he grunts, not looking my way. “Yeah, Mrs. Jackson was high-maintenance, but I think she’s really happy with her eye lift.”
It’s Sunday, and Ranger and I are working on some charts at home in the privacy of his living room. Papers are scattered everywhere, in addition to files and medical charts. It’s a goddamn mess.
I wish Bethany were here, except she’s taken the day to visit her mom in Pennsylvania, and she won’t be back until late at night.
The last few months dating the brunette have been amazing. She quit her job at Gen-Armor after our last conversation, and started working as a marketing assistant at Epinine. It’s gone well. Better than well, I should say.
“I thought we were going to digitize all this stuff,” I remark, looking askance at the heaps of paper.
“We are,” says Ranger. “Thank goodness we have Bethie, man. I’m mean, she’s done wonders with the marketing stuff already, but she’s also done so much more. Before, we were barely hanging on when it came to general administrative issues. Plus, accounting? Holy shit, Christine could be robbing us blind, and we wouldn’t know.”