KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
"The door is open. Come in."
Amano Ren lounged in a chair worth tens of thousands, eyes forward.
A woman in a fitted black suit, long black hair, speaking eyes, and sensual lips glided in.
She said nothing at first, poured him plain hot water, then tidied the desk and sat directly across from him.
Sensing his gaze, she did not sit stiffly like other candidates. She crossed and switched her legs, black stockings drawing the eye, her face soft with a pleasant smile.
It looked smooth, but Ren still spotted the stiffness of recent crash training.
No problem on height. She was a solid 178, nearly eye level with heels.
No problem on figure. Curves where there should be, lines where there should be. Good.
His perception sifted her pheromones and offered more data.
The makeup was light, almost bare-faced.
With a little styling, her score would climb.
He trusted his judgment.
His eyes were a ruler. One look and one breath told natural from swapped.
Felicia let him look, bold and unflinching.
"You have never dated? Why?"
He skipped work questions. Adults did not need loops and riddles.
She had prepared like this. He would ask like this.
Felicia's voice held a thread of nerves. "I grew up in a Christian home. No premarital relations allowed."
"Also I am not interested in boys. I want to study, to stand out. I want someone taller and stronger than me, and if he has my hair color that would be better."
Oh? Just short of saying that man is me.
Ren smiled. "Christianity. Do you believe?"
"I can not," she said, lips pressed.
So, rebellious and self-aware. A clever woman.
He did not mind clever women. They could not possibly outplay him.
Sometimes clever tripped on clever anyway.
"You are still at Empire State University? A college girl."
He shifted. "Your schedule will be busy. I have a lot to do."
"No problem," Felicia said earnestly. "As your secretary in Oscorp, the school will grant me broad internship credits."
"I need only return for exams. Pass them all and I graduate on time. It will not affect the work."
"In fact my coursework is finished. I can apply to graduate early."
Confidence, no fretting about study time.
Ren let it lie.
"I read your profile. Impressive."
"Top marks across the board, proactive, with extracurriculars that include yoga, dance, music, flute."
"You studied management and finance. You fit the posting well."
He rose and offered his hand. "I look forward to working together."
Felicia gasped with delight, then stood to shake.
"When there is a chance, I would like to hear you play the flute. I know that instrument a little myself."
He let the meaning hang.
Felicia nodded firmly. "Of course, boss."
"Shall we continue interviewing the rest of the candidates?"
She slid into work mode, seizing every chance to prove her value.
Truth was, she had not been confident. A student against seasoned applicants for the chairman's only secretary was no contest.
There was also one rival as strong as her, maybe stronger.
Good thing she had been first. Otherwise she doubted she would stand out.
If the other woman had gone in first, Felicia would not be here now.
"No need. One is enough."
"Let's go."
Ren shook his head. No point humoring the rest.
Most were fine, none surpassed Felicia, and the one who could match her was a mole.
Better to send them all back and recruit later if needed.
Felicia nodded, hugging a folder as she followed him out.
They left the chairman's office, rode the elevator, and stepped onto the lounge floor.
A red-haired woman in a sleek black dress approached. At the sight of Ren she flicked a glance at Felicia, then cooed, "Hello, boss, I..."
Ren did not even look at her. He strode from the elevator and spoke to the anxious Felicia beside him.
"Remember that woman. She just stepped into the company with her left foot. Fire her."
"What?"
People in the hall froze. One man stumbled and nearly fell.
Workers who had been eavesdropping looked up in unison.
The redhead herself was stunned, mouth ajar.
Even with her iron composure, her mind went blank.
Norman Osborn arrived at the summons, cut a side glance at Felicia, then at Natalie Rushman.
He lifted a hand. "Miss Rushman, you may leave."
Then he hurried after Ren.
Natalie stared after them, felt the stares closing in, and then looked down at herself.
She checked the glossy glass panel as a mirror. Perfect, was it not?
"Sir, do you think I look beau..."
"Sorry, I have work."
The man she had stopped pulled back as if from a plague god and fled, face pale.
As he reached an office, he stuttered to a halt, twisted his steps, and made sure his right foot crossed the threshold first.
He glanced toward the boss's direction, then exhaled.
Natalie tried again. The next one dodged and fled too.
Had the whole floor gone mad? What was with the plague-god faces?
Am I not beautiful?
F—k.
She flipped the crowd off, tossed her hair, and stalked for the exit.
At the doorway she hesitated.
Which foot had she used to step in earlier?
The same question hit everyone else.
Did Ren just dislike her and toss her out, or had she truly led with the left and given him the perfect blaze to set his authority?
Someone went to Security for the footage.
When the screen showed Natalie sweeping in with a confident smile and leading with her left foot, every jaw dropped.