Page 47 of Savage Suit
“It’s a plus, but no. I could use a basic pen from a value pack, but I prefer nice pens.”
“Noted.” I changed course. “Now, what’s your biggest weakness?”
“Um…my greatest professional weakness is that I’m an extreme perfectionist. I believe a project will be subpar if I don’t give my all, but I enjoy putting my energy into my passion, like marketing. If my work isn’t as flawless as possible, I won’t feel comfortable presenting it. My obsessiveness makes me a pain to work with though my end results are usually outstanding.”
I found the interview process tedious. Half the answers were lies repeated countless times. No sane person revealed their fundamental flaws or their more lascivious enjoyments.
Her clichéd response disappointed me. “What an original answer.”
Huffing, she frowned. “I said myprofessionalflaw, Mr. Keegan. You’re going to be my boss, not my therapist. I have no reason to reveal an everyday flaw I struggle with, but I’ll appease your curiosity. My temper overrules good sense. If someone pisses me off, I don’t hesitate to set them straight. Care for an example?”
“You just gave me one, Ms. Hagen.” I mimicked her earlier monotone. Her verbal lashing recalled our first interview, when she cussed me out the moment I walked through doors I owned. “I apologize for my unnecessary comment. Because of it, I hold harmless your outburst.”
“Speaking the truth isn’t an outburst, but thank you for your kindness, Mr. Keegan.” Her voice dripped with scorn. “Next question.”
She looked so fucking annoyed with me. I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “Ms. Hagen, I believe we started on the wrong foot.” Again.
“No shit,” she grumbled, her eyes widening the moment the words left her mouth.
“Don’t worry about it,” I offered before she could apologize. “You’ll hear worse around here.”
“Does that mean I’m hired?”
“A few more questions to determine if you’re a proper fit. I’d also like to apologize for my behavior doing our first interview.”
“You mean how you kept me waiting because of my gender?” she stated, her stare accusatory and unblinking.
“Ah. So, you’ve read Ms. Warrington’s exposé?”
“Yes. And although I suspect you’re doing damage control if you hire me, I thank you for the opportunity to work for you. And despite what you may think about my capabilities because of my gender, I promise I wouldn’t disappoint you,” she said with saccharin sweetness, and grinned, the picture of innocence.
God, what a smile.
“You know, Ms. Hagen, I could still change my mind,” I said coolly, though I felt no malice at her words. I was still her boss, and I didn’t tolerate disrespect from my employees under any circumstances. She needed to know her place. “I recommend you think before you speak to me.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Keegan, I’ll be extremely respectful to you on my first day and every day thereafter. Let the record show that I might wholeheartedly disagree with your practices, but a role at your company is very coveted, and I won’t take my job lightly or forget who’s boss.”
How the hell had she given me a dressing down without raising her voice or offering one affront?
“Tell me a little about yourself and the last job you had.” I knew a lot about her and her last position, but I wanted to hear it from her. It would also give me a chance to regain my equilibrium.
“I am twenty-six years old, I’m from Harlem, and I enjoy…reading.” The noted pause made her words sound like a lie. “I graduated from NYU four years ago with a business degree, with a concentration on marketing, and management & organizations.”
“You have two degrees?” How had I missed such impressive information on her résumé and cover letter?
She shook her head. “No. NYU’s business program allows two concentrations in that major. Until two months ago, I was a junior marketing specialist at T.S. Marketing. I loved the job. I loved the creativity, the research, the attention to detail, needed from me.”
“I heard the company is having financial difficulties.”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “Unfortunately.”
“T.S. Marketing isn’t on the same scale as KMG. Or even Sauncier,” I added grudgingly. “It is a niche market firm handling small cosmetic accounts.”
“In my nearly four years with the company, I worked on a dozen campaigns. Eighteen months ago, I was promoted to a team lead and oversaw seven accounts,” she responded.
“Three of which you acquired.”
Pride brightened her gray eyes, but she lowered her lashes and nodded.
