Chapter 1: The Métier
I smoothed down the grey pencil skirt I was wearing and sat down. I wiped my hands on my black tailored jacket and hoped they hadn't been this sweaty when I'd shaken hands with my interviewer. Aside from the fact that it was gross and unprofessional, he was also really good-looking. I almost blushed as Evan stepped in at that moment. He gave me a megawatt smile.
"Sorry about that," he said, sitting down.
I smiled to show I didn't mind.
"So, Camille," he said, looking down at my file, "I must say that I was very impressed with your résumé. In fact, you're almost over-qualified for the job."
I looked down as this time I really did blush. People talking about my qualifications always made me self-conscious.
"Uh, yeah." I mentally slapped myself. I didn't want to mess this up. Of all the jobs I'd applied for, this one had had the best hours and highest pay. Not to mention the hottie interviewing me. Evan was tall and muscular with curly blond hair and gorgeous brown eyes. And his smile completely lit up a room. I took a deep breath and forced myself to utter something that resembled the professional I was.
"I'm only actually going to be in town for a while; I have a few matters to attend to, but I realised a position I'm more fitted for would unfortunately be permanent. I believe the ad for this position said..." I frowned, trying to remember the semi-cryptic wording, "Probably Temporary."
Evan laughed. "Some people thought I should've added 'Don't get your hopes up'."
I smiled politely but was now secretly worrying about exactly why they'd wanted that wording.
He grinned. "You'll soon see what I mean." He looked back down at my file, evidently remembering he was conducting an interview. "I called all your references and got impeccable feedback. Normally I'd ask you why you want this job, and why you think you're right for it, but I won't do that because I've heard more than enough of those answers and honestly, I'm not sure my own CV matches up to yours."
I blushed again, deeper this time.
"So in conclusion, you have the job."
My head jerked up so quickly I almost got whiplash. This was the weirdest interview ever. I'd said, what, like three sentences and I had the job? Apparently so, because we stood up and he shook my hand again.
We stepped out of the office and he led me to the elevator where we stepped on and he pressed the '25' button. He looked at me and started laughing. "You look shell-shocked!"
"I just... that was so easy!" I exclaimed.
"Well some part of it had to be," he said, amused.
I frowned. "What is this, some kind of doomed job? Did all my predecessors die a grisly death, or something?"
He started laughing again. "Possibly they would've preferred that," he said in between breaths.
I wanted to ask exactly what he was going on about, but he was doubled over laughing. I honestly had no clue what was so darn funny, but it didn't look like I was going to find out, because the lift doors started sliding open. I quickly made a mental note never to do my makeup in the elevator; evidently it moved at a lightning pace. Evan finally started breathing steadily enough to lead me out of the elevator.
The first thing I noticed was the floor. My heels, which had been almost indiscernible on the soft
wooden floors downstairs, now made me wince as they collided with the cream marble.
