He moved his chair slightly, now directly in front of me. His hands were clasped together in front of his face, as all his attention was focused on me.
I shivered slightly, the leather was extremely comfortable against my ass, but his gaze was not. It tied some strange knots in my stomach for unknown reasons. The energy he exuded was overwhelming. I clenched my hands tightly over my folder; they were getting colder by the second.
I had never felt this kind of pressure and scrutiny from a man before. Is this how most men act?
He argued. "Give me one good reason why you think you're right for this job."
My mouth was a little dry, like sand, but I forced myself to speak clearly.
"I work hard and can be trusted to get the job done." I kept my eyes on him.
He allowed himself a delirious snort, as if my answer had somehow amused him. A wrinkle appeared on my forehead, causing part of his full lips to twitch.
When you picture a man with kissable lips, that's the Alpha you dream of.
"Focus, Zara, stop staring at his lips," Nova warned me.
"I would have. I had to tell myself off," I yelled at her.
"Most females are stubborn but reliable. Common traits. Are you a typical she-wolf, Miss Zara? Or do you have something else to offer?"
My mouth dropped open slightly at the objectification of women. He sounded so confident, or was it a tactic to test me? This was an interview; maybe he was trying to provoke me and see if I would crack under the pressure. Would he forget his morning workout?
Racists, misogynists, entitled... the list goes on.
"Maybe he wanted to see how you would handle a situation where you had to talk to such a man," Nova told me.
"Every woman is unique and special in her way. I hope you don't take their kind nature as a sign of weakness. They bear children and can multitask; they are the embodiment of fortitude and strength. I think that is enough reason."
He leaned back in his chair again, and it slowly swung left and right, like a pendulum.
"That doesn't answer my question—I want to know if you can follow orders without saying no. I don't need a strict secretary, and I don't like to repeat myself, and I don't approve of tardiness." He paused pointedly, letting his words sink into my brain before continuing. "My word is law here. Your patience will be tested, so if you think you're up to the task, you'll be hired."
That wasn't what I had in mind. I thought he'd look at my resume and ask me general questions like typing speed and experience. But he didn't even look at my file. All he asked for was humility.
There, my pride was gone, but I needed this job because I had something to prove.
"What do I need to do to show that I can follow your orders, sir, and that I am the right man for this job?"
"Bring me a cup of coffee, black, and no sugar. It should be scalding hot. And a blue tie, I have a meeting to attend. You have fifteen minutes. Not a second late. Dismissed."
***
This had to be the weirdest interview of all. I stared at him for a few seconds longer than necessary, just in case he was joking.
He wasn't.
He picked up the folder from his side and opened it, staring at it, ignoring my existence.
I was still trying to process what he had said. His assertive tone was not condescending when he spoke again, but it reminded me that he meant every word he said.
"You have 14 minutes and 23 seconds left. Are you going to waste them staring at me? I won't give you any extra time for that." He turned the page with his long fingers and continued reading the folder.
How did he even measure the exact time? The man was an enigma, and I had to tear my eyes away from him. The knots tightened even more as I stood up and apologized. He nodded briefly at me, still staring at the page he was reading.
I stormed out of his office, clutching the folder and bag.
"Where are we going to find a blue tie and coffee in 14 minutes?" Nova scolded.
"It's called crisis management, and that was the first step. Building relationships and learning how to handle situations where random tasks are thrown at you." I told her politely.
Luckily, Miranda was still waiting outside when I showed up like a disaster tornado, the folder slipping from my slippery hands.
She looked at me sympathetically as the door slammed behind me, and asked sympathetically.
"What time and what tasks?"
So she knew his methods. Of course she did. She'd been with him for a while.
"Black coffee and a blue tie," I blurted out hopefully.
A wave of relief crossed her face, as if this wasn't a crisis.
"Lucky girl. Follow me, I'll help." She turned and walked down the hall. I followed her, trying to calm my stupid heart. She began typing feverishly on her work tablet.
"How?" I asked, slightly confused as to why she called me lucky.
Miranda gave a bubbly laugh. It brightened her beautiful face.
"Because for the last few girls, he's been asking for coffee, his favorite drink. His healthy smoothie is so hard to make, and a limited edition of his favorite book, The Picture of Dorian Gray. No one takes his tests but you, girl." She turned to me and winked, kissing her long eyelashes on the top of my cheeks. "You have a chance."
She seemed eager to help and hire me, too eager. Maybe she needed someone to share the burden of working under such a demanding boss.
I followed her into what seemed to be a modern kitchen.