Hell Of A Marriage {18+}

Chapter two - You are not racist

“Haha! Funny. I could use that, a minor distraction from my normal, boring, suicidal life.” He said the last part to himself. “My name is Keenan Hilton, your new boss.” He stretches his hand, and he takes her hand into his for a shake. 

“Congratulation Miss Klean, you are employed.” As they shake hands, she cannot ignore how soft his hand is and also how strong his grip on her hand is on hers at the same time.

“I’m employed?” she gasps, covering her mouth in disbelief. “Mr Hilton, we haven’t even had the interview, that’s not how it’s done.” These words run out of her mouth before she can control them and at these words, his calm expression grows cold, and he gives her a blunt stare, making her swallow quickly and wish she had said nothing at all.

Why does she have to ruin this excellent opportunity that has just come her way? This has always given her trouble, and now she knows she needs control over her words and even her thoughts.

He sighs heavily and withdraws his hand from hers and she almost whines in protest, “No Miss Klean this is not how it’s done,” he gets up from his seat and goes over to the window to glance down at the busy street, “but I thought you were special.” He turns to her and his gaze sweeps over her, from her short, curly, black hair down to her slightly exposed chest which is because of the top three unbuttoned buttons of the v-neck pink shirt sleeve and he can’t ignore the way his body tenses at the carnal thought in his head. “Maybe I was wrong.”

He admits he has never been one to control his canal thought, but at least he knows his thoughts are to himself alone, unlike the lady in his office.

“No, you’re not, I am special.” Okay, am I not taking this too far? She asks herself. Special? Even she knows she isn’t even close to that word.

Keenan's brow rises at her word. He knows he complimented her, but no one had ever taken it literally before, making him wonder if the lady he just employed is mentally sane even as she is pretty. “No, I’m not special.” She almost face-palm herself, what the hell is she even saying?

‘This isn’t the interview I had expected, at least not the one I had prepared for last night.’ She tells herself and when she looks up, he’s staring at her. ‘Oh, sweet heaven, did she say that out loud too?’ She wonders again.

He glances at his Backes and Strauss wristwatch, before turning to her, “Yes you said that out and I’m thinking that’s how you normally think-talk so I’m gonna have to get used to that aren’t I?” he says, grinning at her mischievously.

She foolishly smiles back, “So when shall I start?” She asks eagerly.

“Immediately,” he replies, and presses his desk phone button, “Kate, come take Miss Klean here and show her to her office, please. Dismiss the other waiting for an interview.”

They wait the next minute patiently for Kate, his secretary, and after fidgeting with her finger for a while, she breaks the awkward silence with her usual stupid question. “So you’re not racist then?”

He gives her a ridiculous look. “I never said I was racist before, Miss Klean.”

“But you said....” she begins, pointing out what he had said earlier.

“You heard wrong again Miss Klean.” he snaps and for the first time and once again she spots his Italian assent and the way he just called her name made her almost smile... Oh wait; she’s already smiling, isn’t she?

Keenan rolls his eyes and can’t wait for Kate to come and take the handful called Varisha Klean away from his office.

The door opens and Kate enters and Varisha gets up from her seat, nodding her head at her new boss before walking with his secretary to the door, “I will see you around, Miss Klean.” he tells her and one more time she turns to look at him and he winks at her making her cheeks heat in embarrassment.