Page 52 of Without Apology

“Let’s hope so. Do I look okay?” I smoothed down my dress and watched his gaze sweep over me.

“Yeah. You look fine.”

Huh. That was two fines. Okay. Maybe we were back to professional boundaries only? The blurring lines were making my head spin.

“All right. I guess I’ll see you later. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

***

The building was located five blocks away. I could’ve walked it although, in these heels it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. The sidewalks were bustling with both tourists and business people. A lot of the latter were probably taking off early for the weekend.

Fred, the driver of the car, gave me his card with his number after he got my door and helped me out. I stepped into the impressive lobby and to the front desk of the very modern and very tall office building. Since they were expecting me, I was given a visitor’s badge and shown to the elevator bank for the forty-third floor. Although I wasn’t nervous about the interview itself, New York made me a bit anxious. The popping of my ears as the elevator zoomed upward didn’t help.

When I stepped off into a lovely lobby area, a receptionist greeted me. “You must be Ms. Waters.”

I smiled warmly. “I am.”

“Great. Follow me. Can I get you a beverage, or do you need to use the ladies’ room?”

“No thank you. I’m good.”

I was taken to a small conference room with windows overlooking Times Square. I wondered how anyone got work done here considering all of the distractions outside. I soaked in all of the billboards and lights flashing.

“Mr. Smith and Mr. Zambora will be in soon.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, knowing I was ten minutes early. For a change, it was nice not to be running late.

When the door swung open a couple minutes later, I expected the gentlemen, but it was Tom who walked in.

“Peyton, welcome to the Big Apple.”

“Tom.” I tried to hide my surprise and was unable to say it was nice to see him. It wasn’t. He was here with an agenda. It was written cruelly all over his face.

“And here I heard you didn’t fly.”

“Evidently, you heard wrong.” It wasn’t technically a lie since I had flown on a plane earlier in my life.

“Must have. Just so you’re aware, in addition to Jeff, we also brought in a number of well-qualified outside candidates. They’ve all run much bigger companies than Maddox Consulting.”

So this was his game. Intimidation. “It’s good to hear they’re widening the net. If I don’t get this job, I certainly want to ensure the person who does is capable.” I let hang in the air the implication that Jeff was not qualified.

Tom gave a smile which didn’t meet his eyes. “Anyhow, I won’t keep you. Good luck. You’ll certainly need it.”

I wanted to say a phrase with the first word rhyming with ‘luck’ and the last word ‘off,’ but simply murmured a “thank you,” remembering he was the owner’s nephew. As soon as he left, however, I let the explicative fly under my breath.

Putting his toxic energy aside, I took a few deep cleansing breaths, trying to rid myself of the asshole cooties in the room.

Five minutes later I was calm enough to greet the two gentlemen as they came in for my first interview.

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