Page 82 of Drama Queen

Instead of what I had planned, however, my idiot brother, whom I love very much, wanted to ensure I had a job lined up, so he talked his best friend—the ultimate silver fox—into arranging an interview for me at his company.

Ethan Brennan was the very definition of what dark, sexy, age-gap romances were all about. Swoon worthy. His genetics had gold running through them. If it weren’t for his salt and pepper hair and beard, I would have never guessed he was in his late forties or early fifties. I didn’t know how old he was.

Everlast Shoppes, our local outlet mall, was my destination but, first, I wanted to grab a coffee, eat breakfast, stop by a cute little boutique, and grab a few quick outfits, so I’d have something to wear. I was warned that the interview process could take two to three days. If I made it through the interview and their version of hazing, I would start Monday. It wasn’t when I wanted to start, but I’d take what I could get.

My phone rang as I lay in bed staring at it. It was nine in the morning. I both wanted and needed more sleep. Last night, I stayed up way too late binge-reading Jenn Bullard’s latest release, and I needed more sleep. I didn’t see my eyelids until after four a.m. Why couldn’t I catch a break?

“Big Brother is calling,”my phone repeated every three seconds. Damnit. Why couldn’t I just fall asleep? I read the damn texts. What more does he want from me?

“Hello, Braxton? Usually, if someone doesn’t answer their phone, it means they are busy or possibly asleep,” I groaned into the phone, my eyes still closed.

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t miss your interview today at three or see if you needed to reschedule it to after five tonight. He has both times open to interview you.” My sweet brother was trying so hard to land me this job, but why? I could get a job anywhere. I could have accepted a position where I did my internship, but the bitches there were so snobby, I’d rather punch a mule in his balls every day than go back to that place.

“I’m awake now. I have some stuff I’d love to get done, then meet him tonight. If that’s possible,” I answered honestly. I was nowhere near ready for this interview.

“Okay, I’ll let him know. Also, sis, I wanted to wish you good luck. Would you like to meet for lunch today?” Braxton was my best friend, no matter how big of an age difference.

“Sure. My hair appointment is at eleven, but we can meet after. I can go to the spa anytime.” I smiled through my teeth. I really wanted that massage.

“What if I come with you to the spa? Would that be weird? A massage sounds stellar. It’ll be my treat.” Braxton was never into anything I wanted before. He always had a motive behind his intentions. I just didn’t know what...

“Sure, then we’re going to a boutique for a few outfits. I need new business attire. You can join me on that voyage and help me pick out the best sexy business outfits, so I can impress the boss. I don’t need to work, but I want this job.” I’m unsure why I wanted this job, but starting as an HR manager would be quite the feat. It would also look amazing on my resume.

“You don’t need to look sexy. Just professional. You’ll win them over with your brain, not your boobs,” he growled through the phone.

“Calm down, Brax. I was teasing; I want to look good for myself. I could give a donkey’s balls what they think I look like. Anyways, I’m awake now, so thanks. I’ll shower and meet you at the Cedar Hill Mall in a few hours.” After exchanging a few more words, we finished the call.

I rolled out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I knew I’d need a jacket soon. We’d probably get snow within the next week or two, based on how fast the temperature dropped. Cedar Hill, Colorado, was known for its icy-cold winters and brutal snowstorms. Although the snow and ice would melt within days, if not hours, it was still dangerous to drive in. And we almost ALWAYS lost power.

I quickly showered, washing my hair and body, hitting all the hot spots. I had no intention of doing anything else, so once I was done, I turned off the water, dried off, and got dressed. I threw on a little eyeliner to make my eyes pop and lip gloss, and then I was the best version of myself. I thought I’d cleaned up nicely for just rolling out of bed.

With a few minutes to kill, I drove to my favorite coffee shop and ordered a double-shot vanilla latte and three glazed donuts. When my alarm went off on my watch, I knew it was time for my hair appointment. I walked a few doors down, checked in at the salon, showed the stylist what I wanted, and let her work her magic. I was switching up my look, going from my long, red hair that almost reached my ass, to a shoulder-length reverse bob with dark brown roots that worked into a darker brown tip. The technical name was Balayage. Luckily, this was a young stylist, so she knew what I was talking about.

Aside from my few suggestions, I gave her free creative control and let her work her do her thing. Thoughts about theupcoming interview repeatedly ran through my head.Would I be good enough for this job? Had my internship given me enough experience to manage an entire department? What happened if I fucked up?The more questions I asked myself, the more my anxiety spun out of control.

An hour later, my hair was finally done. I paid the stylist, left an excellent tip, and then scheduled my quarterly appointment. I wanted to get this redone every three-to-four months because I loved how it turned out. She styled my hair in an appropriate look for a business interview, and then I headed to meet Braxton for lunch.

Braxton:

Meet me at the Italian bistro in the Cedar Hill Mall. I’ll be there waiting.

Me:

On my way, bro. See you soon.

Braxton, as always, dressed to the nines—business professional, and here I was wearing jogging pants. I laughed at myself.Why would he want to be seen with his immature younger sister?

“Hey, sis! I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re looking”—he looked me up and down and shook his head—“comfortable.” The disgust in his voice was apparent, but I didn’t let it sway me from my ultimate goal. Relax today, then worry about the rest of the bullshit tomorrow.

“Hey, Brax. You’re looking sharp as ever. Why on earth would you have lunch with a bum like me?” I sat down across from him. He’d already ordered food, and my sweet iced tea was already on the table waiting for me. One thing Brax and I sharedwas our love of Italian food, and we would never stray away from a good salad.

“I can’t let you go into the interview without discussing what you’ll be walking into. Do you remember Ethan Brennan?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I remember you two going on many trips together, but I was young when that happened,” I answered honestly. By the time I could walk and start school, Braxton had already moved away. He went to college and created drama for himself. The year I turned eighteen, he celebrated his big fortieth birthday.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Anyway, I wanted you to know he’s a good guy, and the men he works with will be protective over you.” He gave me an ‘in your face’ grin. Of course, he was behind all of this.

“You don’t have to do all that just to help me, Brax. I could have found a job,” I said before sipping my tea.

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