Page 9 of The Rebel
I whistled. “Damn. That’s unusual.”
“I agree.”
I glanced at the list of requirements. “The job doesn’t look that challenging,” I murmured. It pretty much required the assistant to shadow the CEO and attend certain events. “But the pay isn’t listed.”
“It’s quite generous for an assistant position.”
“How much is it?” I asked. My eyes bulged when she gave me the number. “Hey, that’s actually not bad. That’s what I used to get as a junior brand manager.”
“Exactly.”
I swallowed hard. “You know what? I want to interview for this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. And if it works out, maybe later on I could transition to their marketing department.”
The most important thing was that I wouldn’t have to dig into my savings.
“I can get you an interview tomorrow at nine. I’ll double-check with HR and confirm it within the hour.”
“Perfect.”
“The headquarters is above LeBlanc-Broussard.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s their flagship restaurant on Royal Street.”
I quickly checked my GPS and saw it wasn’t too far away. “All right. When would the job start?”
“Honestly, ASAP.”
I felt like I could finally breathe properly. When Samantha first told me that there was a hiring freeze, I’d really sent myself into a full-blown panic.
“I suggest you read up a bit on The Orleans Conglomerate to prepare,” she continued. “Your boss might be a bit… persnickety.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will. In fact, I’m going to kick ass in that interview and get the job, just you wait.”
CHAPTER 3
ANTHONY
A week later,I was meeting my brothers in the French Quarter at eight thirty on Monday morning. I wasn’t an early riser, and my brothers often teased me that I was always the last one to arrive. It wasn’t unusual for me to join them around ten o’clock, but my new assistant was starting today, and we needed to hit the ground running. It turned out Dorothy was an excellent HR manager, but she and I didn’t click this past week. Probably more my fault than hers.
The recruiter had found an assistant right away—someone named Daisy Evanston. Dorothy interviewed her and confirmed she was competent. As usual, I stayed out of the hiring process.
I was in the mood for a good coffee, and my family’s favorite hangout was Maria’s Coffee Shop on Bourbon Street. But since I was already on Royal Street, I didn’t have time to make a detour. That was why I headed into Coffee & Bites, a small carryout less than a block away from LeBlanc-Broussard. I always drank the same thing: regular coffee with a shot of cream, no sugar.
A blonde bombshell stepped in at the same time as me. Damn, she was gorgeous. Her long hair reached right down to her ass. It was very thick and shiny. Her eyes were round andblue, and she looked at the menu so intently that I thought she was trying to memorize it.
I gestured for her to order first and said, “My advice? A regular roast with cream.”
She flashed me a smile. “Just cream in your coffee? This early in the morning? Nah, I need some sugar in it too. Which of the syrups do you recommend?”
“I don’t even know the options.” Glancing at the menu, I added, “If I were a betting man, I’d bet on hazelnut.”
She wrinkled her nose.
