I hesitated, the memories of being overlooked time and time again flooding back. “At least the same salary—and a real shot at a promotion. I’ve been passed over too many times. They told me my looks are... intimidating.”
Michael’s gaze softened, but there was a spark of something else beneath the surface. “You are stunning,” he admitted, his eyes traveling over my face, “but that should never be a reason to overlook someone’s talent.”
Heat crept up my neck, and I glanced at Erika, who was trying not to smirk as she once again bumped her knee against mine under the table.
“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Erika teased, her playful tone cutting through the tension.
Michael chuckled and pulled a sleek pen from his inner jacket pocket, sliding it across the table along with the napkin his scotch sat on. “Write me a figure.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You’re serious about this?”
“I’m very serious,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms, his gaze unwavering. “I’m familiar with your work on the Fox building.”
“You know Oliver Fox?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
Michael nodded, his smile tightening. “I do. My, uh, ex-wife was friends with his wife, Ryleigh. Lovely woman.”
I nodded, processing that bit of personal information. “He was very pleasant to deal with.”
“Write me a figure,” he repeated, his voice a touch more commanding.
I glanced at Erika, who gave me a subtle nod of encouragement. After a moment of internal debate, I jotted down my current salary and slid the napkin back to Michael. He unfolded it slowly, glancing at the number before raising an eyebrow at me.
“That’s all?” he asked, disbelief lacing his tone. “You’re worth more. I can give you more.”
I let out a surprised laugh. “You haven’t even seen my résumé. For all you know, I could be a total trainwreck.”
“I doubt that,” he said, his smile confident. “Can I make you an offer?”
I swallowed hard and nodded, afraid if I spoke my voice would crack. I glanced at Erika to see a flicker of encouragement in her eyes.
Michael took the pen again, this time hiding his answer behind his shoulder like a schoolboy trying to protect his test from wandering eyes. He folded the napkin and slid it back to me, a playful glint in his eye.
I unfolded it carefully, my breath catching as I saw the number he’d written. It was nearly twenty thousand dollars more than what I was currently making. My mind raced—this was enough to help my parents more and make a real dent in my student loans.
“When would I start?” I asked, my voice suddenly breathless.
“Whenever you want,” Michael said smoothly, as if this was the easiest decision in the world.
“I’d need to give a month’s notice,” I replied, my practical side kicking in. “And I’m overdue for a vacation. I haven’t had one in years.”
“Your start date is six weeks from today,” he said without missing a beat.
I blinked. “That’s it? No discussion, no checking with your executives or HR?”
Michael’s grin widened. “It’s my company. I hire who I want. And I want you.”
I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Say yes,” Michael urged, his eyes gleaming. “And I’ll have HR draft a formal offer tomorrow. I just need your contact information and your résumé for the file.”
With a flourish, he pulled a sleek business card from his pocket and slid it across the table. I picked it up, running my thumb over the thick, raised letters. The card simply read, “Michael Elliot, Head Guy in Charge.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? No CEO or president?”
“It’s my company,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t need to put on airs.”
I shook my head, still processing. “Can I think about it?”