In His Service

interview

Note to readers: this is my original work. Don't copy it, translate it, paraphrase it, quote it, or use any part of it without my permission, or I'll make you regret it. You might escape legal action, but you won't escape me. *evil cackle*

Seriously though. Leave my shit alone.

Also, this is a mature book. There are mature scenes (see: erotica, sex, bondage, s&m, etc.) if you are alarmed or offended by any of these things, fare thee well and good morrow kind sir... meaning.... you should leave. Just stop reading now and byeeeeee. (But still feel free to vote!)

And finally, I LOVE reader comments. But if you're a cock-n-balls who likes to point out spelling errors and grammatical mistakes to make yourself feel better, kindly fuck off. This is a draft of a story by an amateur author. Write your own if mine doesn't tickle your jollies the way you want.

All that out of the way, now read!! And vote and comment if you like it. ;)

Ginny's POV

I drummed my fingernails on the granite bar top and sighed heavily as I glanced at the clock for what felt like the millionth time.

3:13 PM. He was late.

"Can I get you another cappuccino, ma'am?" The friendly bartender gave me a sympathetic look across the bar.

After a second's contemplation, I nodded and agreed, "might as well," as I slid my credit card back across the bar. Two cappuccinos immediately before meeting my potential new boss couldn't be a good idea, but considering the guy was nearing twenty minutes late to our interview, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to work for him in the first place.

I was a strong believer in treating employees with respect and empathy. The fact that Derek Galloway was so late to an initial interview implied to me that he had neither respect nor empathy for his employees, a fact that immediately turned me off to the idea of him being my 'superior.'

Not to mention the fact that he was known as a womanizer and philanderer, with connections to several exclusive "gentlemen's" clubs and bars in the surrounding areas.

A tinkling sound came from the back of the restaurant and I could hear laughter and the sound of several men's voices.

The bartender nodded towards the sound and glanced at me over her shoulder. "Derek's here," she chirped with a smile.

I raised my eyebrows in acknowledgement and cast a meaningful look at the clock behind the bar. The bartender gave me a knowing smile and winked, before turning her attention over my shoulder.

"Hey Derek," she greeted happily. I stopped drumming my fingernails and listened to their conversation. I could usually tell a lot about people from eavesdropping, even if it was my worst habit.

"How's Leanne today?" A cool, slow voice drawled out, a slight twinge of a country accent hinting around the edges, and I felt my breath slow as the sound soothed my nerves. Woah. surprisingly easy on the ears. Intrigued, I strained to hear the rest of their conversation as Leanne dove into an answer, but the sound was drowned out by the cappuccino machine before I could hear his voice again.

I turned instead to doodling on the edge of my napkin as I waited for our appointment to start. As the thought crossed my mind I shot another glance at the clock. 3:20 PM. I doodled the numbers on my napkin and began making swirls around them until a smooth, long-fingered hand came into view and snagged the edge of the paper napkin, sliding it out from under my pen.