Page 7 of Executives' Omega
We all sat, and Mr. McKinney leaned forward slightly. “Our CEO, Brendan Wallace, and our CFO, Alonzo C de Baca, are unable to join us today due to existing obligations, but we will be recording the interview and will discuss all potential candidates with them.”
I nodded. “Da-Darlene informed me of that. I have no problem being filmed.”
He smiled, and I had to fight to keep a shiver from running up my spine. Alphas didn’t look at me like that.
Polite smiles? Yes. Pitying smiles? Always. Warm smiles? Never.
Mr. Olsen cleared his throat and picked up a copy of my resume. “Shall we start?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
∞∞∞
I stared at the ceiling, trying to find patterns or faces in the popcorn texturing.
Owen’s futon was comfortable, and as I lay there I found myself almost nodding off several times. Then my thoughts would drift back to my interview, and I’d be wide awake again.
It had gone well… too well. The trio had seemed satisfied with my answers about skills, and the more personality-oriented questions. But I knew it was all for nothing when nobody addressed the elephant in the room: my job-hopping history.
It was a clear indication that they’d made up their minds. Why else would they completely bypass the question that every other employer asked?
I couldn’t blame them. They needed somebody who would stick around, which made hiring me too much of a risk.
The sound of a key, and footsteps coming down the stairs to the basement room. A moment of silence, then the person spoke.
“That was today?” Owen asked.
I nodded, not tearing my eyes from the ceiling.
“That bad?” he asked, lifting my legs, sitting, and dropping my legs back onto his lap.
I shook my head.
“Good?”
I licked my lips. “They didn’t ask about how often I switch jobs.”
He hissed in a breath.
“Exactly.”
“Come here,” he murmured.
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I moved to curl up on his lap and sighed as his arms wrapped around me.
We didn’t speak for several minutes, but we didn’t need to. Owen was infinitely patient and would wait for me to be ready.
“It’s probably a good thing,” I finally whispered.
“Why is that, Bug?” he asked.
“I’d screw up,” I admitted. “It’s one thing to make mistakes when answering phones or filing, it’s another when the documents I’d be handling would be business critical.”
“But it’s all work you’ve done before, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Then why do you think you’d mess up?”
