With Lips Like Fire He Burns Me

13. Your Love Pours Down On Me

Louis slid the tips of his fingers on the cool mahogany surface of the wooden table. He executed a collected composure, but if Mr. Salk took one peek underneath the table, he would find Louis' foot swaying back and forth in the air, his other foot tapping incessantly on the floor in a continuous beat.

"Well I can't say I'm not impressed," Mr. Salk said smoothly. He hummed conspiratorially under his breath, his beady eyes flickering back and forth across Louis' resume. "You're a well-rounded student. You came highly recommended. And you still have time to teach night classes in your spare time."

Louis leaned forward in his seat, his fingers clutching the edges of the armchair. He was waiting for the inevitable but. There was always a but at these kinds of business meetings.

"But," Mr. Salk continued expectedly. His thick eyebrows furrowed a little. "You do have a lot on your plate already." His calculating, stormy eyes flicked to Louis' face. "Are you sure you will be capable to handle this internship on top of everything else?"

"I'll be more than capable, sir." Despite Louis' hammering heartbeat in his ears, his voice came out sure, strong and confident. "And If I'm not, then I'll drop everything else. Priorities come first."

Mr. Salk's clear voice cut through the air. "Good."

Mr. Salk continued to look over Louis' resume and several letters of recommendation for a few more minutes. He hummed at various intervals which Louis took as a good sign. Meanwhile, Louis sat back in his chair, flexing his fingers and clasping them on his lap, changing seating positions every few seconds because dammit he was nervous.

"Alright," Mr. Salk boomed loudly, throwing Louis' heavy stack of papers on top of his desk with a loud, thumping sound. "Everything looks good. Although, I do have a very important life-or-death question to ask you."

Louis arched a speculated eyebrow, his heartbeat seeming to grow louder by the minute. "Shoot."

"Are you a Donnie Rovers lad or a Sheffield United chap?"

Louis barked out a laugh of relief. Mr. Salk's playful question placed him oddly at ease, throwing every ounce of agitated nerves out the window. If Salk was easygoing like this in the workplace, then Louis was going to enjoy this prestigious internship after all.

Louis' eyes twinkled in mirth. "I'm a Doncaster Rovers lad most definitely."

"Right answer." Mr. Salk rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'd thought for sure, 'This kid is gonna ace this job if he picks the right choice.'"

Louis' eyes widened comically. "So, does that mean I got the job?"

Mr. Salk smirked devilishly handsome. He intertwined his fingers on top of the polished desk, exuding every bit of professional charm. He shrugged nonchalantly, his lips twitching. Louis was terribly endeared.

"I'm really not supposed to say anything to the interviewees, but between you and me, you're pretty much our best candidate. You exceed past our expectations and you seem to be the right fit. We'd love to have you come on board with us."

Louis flushed with pleasure. He hung his head down so Mr. Salk, and his future boss, wouldn't see how genuinely touched and flattered he was. He pinched the inside of his wrist to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Thank you," Louis spoke sincerely. "I'd love to be a part of the team."

"Good lad," Mr. Salk said approvingly. He nodded towards Louis' folder of important files settled on his lap. "May I see that, please?"

"Oh, of course."

Louis handed Mr. Salk the remainder of his personal information. Mr. Salk hummed again and fingered through the papers, making small notes on his pale pink stationary paper. He phoned his assistant to make a quick copy of Louis' files and hung up the call, returning Louis' special manila folder.