Page 7 of Mr Monday
I blinked and took a step back when he came into the room, pushing an old man in a wheelchair.
‘Mr King?’ I asked.
‘One and the same, Ms Canyon,’ he answered. Gone was the booming distortion and in its place a deep but weak voice. He was old, frail and only a slip of a man, but I could tell he’d been a formidable force in his younger years. He looked as if he’d been tall. His knees, covered in a heavy blanket, jutted out from the chair. His shoulders, though drooped, were still wide. His cardigan, as my mom would call it, was a thick black cable-knit lined along the placket in a strip of bright yellow tartan. His gaunt face looked tired, but his hair was perfection, silver-grey and thick, just like his closely cropped beard and mustache. I was sure he’d once been a very handsome man.
I walked over to him and stretched out my hand. ‘Good evening.’ So this was the elusive CEO of Diamond Enterprises.
He raised his hand to mine, the skin almost translucent and showing the delicate veins underneath. He had numerous purple bruises on his flesh and I wondered how he’d gotten them. His grip still held an edge of power. He let my hand go and looked at his hands, which trembled a little. ‘Not the prettiest sight, but blood thinners will do that to you. The slightest knock or bump and I bruise.’ He slipped his hands under the blanket as if ashamed, and I felt a flash of empathy for him. ‘Now, then. I can understand your confusion – a lot has been thrown at you – but I sensed you would be able to handle it.
‘Ms Canyon, the reason for the stratagem we employed tonight was valid and important for the process. The interview needed to be away from the corporate offices because I’m ill – dying, in fact. It has not been made public yet, and I’m sure you see the potential ramifications if it were to get out without another CEO having been firmly established to create a seamless shift of power. I can’t stress enough how important it is to keep this confidential. Should any whisper of my medical condition leak out in any way, then your interview process will cease. I will know that you leaked it and, now that you’ve signed the NDA, there will be consequences.’
I was stunned by this revelation and by his open threat. I shouldn’t have been surprised about him dropping such a bombshell once he’d made sure I’d signed the NDA. Clearly, Diamond worked through subterfuge, given both their manipulation in firing my father and the way in which they were treating me now. Now, the unusual interview time and the mysterious helicopter ride made sense.
My mind raced. This only cemented my urgent need to get to the inner sanctum of Diamond Enterprises – before Mr King died and this opportunity with him. I did feel slightly ashamed because my only concern was how the man’s impending death would affect me. I know how devastated I was by my father’s decline, and by not being able to help him. Dad died when I was fifteen. Growing up, I’d been his special princess, but our relationship had changed after he was fired from Diamond. I laid that directly at Mr King’s feet. After he was fired, the life my mom and I had become accustomed to had changed rapidly. We’d watched helplessly as Dad withdrew from us and became bitter with hate. His deterioration – emotionally, physically and financially – was more than we were able to handle. It had been a difficult time for us, causing me to mature far too quickly; it was the driving force behind my need for revenge. I tightened my lips. I needed to harden myself to achieve my long-planned goals. I couldn’t feel sorry for the man responsible for me missing out on so much with my dad. I needed to get access to those documents before Mr King no longer needed an executive assistant.
‘I’m not sure what to say. I’m so sorry.’
‘There is nothing to say. It is what it is. I need to ensure the survival of the company, and that’s where you come in.’
‘Me?’ I was more confused than ever now.
‘Yes. I need someone smart, someone who understands my vision. Your experience with non-profits in your previous role and your background as a librarian are valuable to me.’ I realized I was nodding when he paused, as if to add drama to the situation. I held my breath, waiting for his next words: ‘I need someone to take over as CEO, someone who will take this company to new and exciting levels. I devoted my life to building Diamond, and now that I’m dying, I’m looking for the right person to continue my legacy. Someone young, with a fresh perspective and new ideas. Someone with a breadth of experience who can think outside the box. However, this will not be your typical interview.’
I got stuck on ‘CEO’. ‘Excuse me.’ I raised my hand, one finger pointed in the air. ‘Aren’t I being interviewed for the position of executive assistant? How does your need for a CEO affect me?’
‘Well, as I said, I have no doubt you are capable, with a bit of added training. You’ve demonstrated creative thinking and leadership qualities in your previous roles. You see—’ He paused again for effect. His piercing blue eyes caught mine and I held my breath: here it was. He continued, ‘I am considering you to be my new CEO.’
I was speechless.
‘Me? CEO?’ I managed to croak.
I cast a glance at Mr Gorgeous. He gave me a slow grin, which reached right inside so that, even in the face of this life-changing opportunity, it made my belly flutter. I pulled my attention from him, focusing on Mr King.
‘Yes, Ms Canyon, you.’
Certainly I had the education, some of the experience – which I was glad Mr King had recognized – and the tenacity, but . . . CEO? It was quite a leap, to say the least. Not what I had prepared for. Could I really do it? My mind was a whir but, despite my incredulous state, I realized the possibilities. If I was being interviewed for the position of CEO, and got the job, then I would have access to every aspect of the company. It was like being handed the keys to the kingdom – and on a silver platter! I couldn’t screw this up. All I could hope for was that I wouldn’t be asked to do anything questionable, offensive or immoral. Lord help me.
I stood straighter, keeping my gaze on the upturned face of Mr King and doing my damnedest not tofeelMr Gorgeous oh so close to me. I stared directly into the old man’s eyes and answered him.
‘I accept.’
The smile that broke out over his face was brilliant. ‘Most excellent.’ His voice seemed to strengthen, and I heard a tiny bit of a Scottish lilt. ‘The interview process takes the form of seven tests over seven days. I’ll see how you perform during the tests and, if you do well, you will move forward with the interview process. Now then, I’m tired after all this activity. You will continue tomorrow. But first—’ Mr King glanced at Mr Gorgeous and held out a slightly shaking hand. I watched as the sexy devil placed something in Mr King’s palm, then he walked to the fireplace and pulled a silken cord, like they do onDownton Abbey.Seriously? Calling for a maid?‘A car will arrive at your apartment to pick you up at 7 a.m. sharp tomorrow. Be ready.’ He held out a small card.
I took it and turned it over in my hand. It was black on one side, with an embossed 3D image of a diamond. The other side was blank. I ran my fingertips over the slightly raised diamond shape. ‘What’s this?
He chuckled, and I glanced at him. ‘It is your prize. Today was the first day, and you’ve passed the first test.’
‘I have? What was the test?’ No one had told me I was being tested. What if I’d failed? It seemed hardly fair, and only proved my point about how deceitful the company could be. I would have to be on my toes all the time. If I had been tested without knowing about it, that meant the next tests could be pretty much anything. I cast an accusatory look at Mr Gorgeous.
‘I mentioned earlier that there are seven tests. This first one was courage.’
‘Courage?’ I parroted, and shook my head, more confused. ‘What do you mean? All I did was show up for a job interview.’
‘Your fear of flying and heights.’ He paused and looked at me. ‘You proved your courage by agreeing to get on the helicopter, despite your fear. You took the added risk of allowing yourself to be blindfolded for the journey.’
Again, I wondered how he knew about my fear of flying and asked him straight out. ‘H-how did you know I was afraid of flying?’
This time, Mr King gave a mischievous smile. ‘Do you really think I’d tell you that? I have my secrets, too, you know. I may be old and addle-brained—’
