“Mr. O’Connor?” She was carrying a folder in her left hand. With her right hand, she stuck out her thumb and pointed it toward Boozie’s desk. “The lady told me to just come on back. I hope that’s all right.”
“Yes, it is,” I said, smiling as I came around the desk with my hand out. “Please, come in.”
The timidity left her lips and she smiled. She slid her hand into mine and I gave it a little shake. Her hand was warm and soft. I sniffed the air between us. She smelled of soap and lilacs. I looked down at our joined hands. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t want to let it go. I hung on to her hand until he gently tugged it away.
“Please,” I said, directing her to the chair in front of my desk. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Soda? A glass of wine, perhaps.”
She gave me a funny look and I shook my head. “Sorry, I mean, please, have a seat.”
She sat down and made a production out of crossing her long legs. She laced her fingers around her knee. I sat behind the desk and tried not to look like a total idiot. I was usually Joe Cool around the ladies. This one had me a little frazzled, probably because I’d never expected a woman like her to walk through my door.
I worked up my best professional smile and nodded at the folder she was holding. “So, did you bring a resume, Miss…”
“Goodman. Claire Goodman,” she said formally. She opened the folder and took out a single sheet of paper and slid it across the desk to me.
“Fine, just let me take a look,” I said, picking up the resume and pretending to read it. I was having a hard time concentrating. She was just so… distracting, without even meaning to be.
Most of the women in my life were gold diggers and party girls I met at The White Rabbit or late night tittie bars. I could not tell you the last time I had a real conversation with a real woman.
My conversations usually go something like, “You wanna drink? You wanna blow me? You wanna fuck?”
I wondered Claire Goodman would respond to such tawdry lines. Not very well, I suspected.
“I have an Associate’s degree in business management, and I’ve done secretarial and administrative work for several years,” she said. “My last job was with Global Exports, so I’m pretty familiar with your industry. Before that, I worked for the city in the transit department. There are references from both places at the bottom there”
“Yes, yes, I see,” I said, frowning as if in thought. Global Exports was a small fry operation in Jersey and I couldn’t give a shit what anyone who worked for the city had to say. I forced my eyes to focus on the paper rather than her cleavage, which kept pulling at my eye like a magnet to steel. I looked up from the resume and smiled. “This looks very good. You seem well qualified.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m very good with computers and most Office programs. I’m also very good at time management, organization, scheduling…” She leaned into the desk and batted her eyelashes at me. “I also make a mean banana muffin.”
“I do love banana muffins,” I said. I kept smiling. I couldn’t stop smiling. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face.
This girl was like a breath of fresh air, something this place – and my stale life -- could sorely use. I picked up her resume and pretended to read it again like I was rechecking some important point. Without looking at her, I asked, “So if you were chosen for the position (I’d like to choose a position for her) when could you start?”
“Well, since it’s already Friday afternoon, how about Monday?” she suggested, her pretty brow furrowed in thought.
“Monday will be fine,” I said, still staring at the resume without actually reading a word. “Are you busy tonight?”
I glanced up to find her frowning at me. A look of caution washed over her pretty face. “I’m sorry?”
I held up a hand and shook my head. “Let me rephrase that,” I said. “We’re having a little company get together tonight at my place. Sort of a going away party for the lady you’ll be replacing. I thought it might be a good chance for you to meet the rest of the crew before you start work Monday.”
Her smiled returned. Her eyes sparkled. “So, I got the job?”
I stood up and stuck out my hand again. “Miss Goodman, welcome to the team.”
Claire
Despite Ed’s argument to do so, I decided not to go to the interview with Sean O’Connor dressed like a whore. I did pull the miniskirt and red halter top out of the closet and tried them on, and I did look smoking hot thank you very much, but something told me that Sean wasn’t going to hire me based on the size of my tits and the bounce of my ass. He might want to fuck me, yes, but would he want me working for him dressed like that? I didn’t think so.
Everything I knew about Sean O’Connor told me that, when he wasn’t whoring in the clubs, he was the ultimate professional in the office. I would dress like a slut if I was approaching him at a club, but not at his office.
So, I compromised and wore a professional gray suit which fit me perfectly in all the right places without being overtly slutty.
I did pin the pencil skirt up a couple of inches so it fell mid-thigh rather than at my knees. The way Sean was checking me out when I walked into the office told me I’d made the right decision to make.
The interview went faster than expected and better than I’d hoped. The fake resume worked like a charm and Sean was clearly flirting with me throughout the interview. If he had called the references listed there he would have been told what a valuable addition I would be to his team, but I knew he wouldn’t bother. I had the job. I knew it the moment I sat down and my eyes locked with his.
I also knew that we were beginning what would be a very interesting relationship. I couldn’t explain it, but I could just feel it in my bones.