I smiled politely. “I’ve never considered it, no. I’m not really good with computers.”
Ren smiled and his eyes crinkled in the corners. “The programs aren’t too difficult to learn, and once you do, you can be quite creative and make a living doing so. We’ve actually been looking for someone with talent.”
Damn, I thought. Again my non-practical degree was biting me in the ass.
He sat back and crossed a leg over his knee. “One option would be for us to start you off in reception while you take some classes, see how it goes. Perhaps we can groom you to be our Graphic Designer.”
I had to consciously hold my mouth shut. “Really? That would be great.”
He smiled and put his hands up. “No pressure on the Graphic Design thing, I just thought it might be an option for you. We would of course cover your Adobe classes if you decide to go that route.”
“I would definitely be interested,” I said, completely off guard that I might actually have gotten a job after my first interview, and not only that, the company might actually pay for me to advance my career.
Ren stood and gave me his hand. “I’ll talk to Becky about an offer. You should hear from us by the end of the week. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Clair.”
I smiled, my cheeks heating slightly from the use of my formal name. Even that invoked memories of Dallon King.
I left the interview beyond excited. Graphic Design? How had I never considered it before? I hailed a cab, paid with the money Dallon had given me when I arrived, and rushed through the penthouse and into the study, where I found Dallon silhouetted against the window, his hands deep in his suit pockets.
When he heard me enter the room, he turned slowly to face me.
“I got the job!” I said excitedly, rushing into the room and sitting on his desk. I noticed his eyebrow rise as I did so, but I ignored him. “HR is going to send me an offer by the end of this week.”
“Congratulations. We should open a bottle of wine.”
Dallon put his hand out and I shook it, somewhat confused by the formal gesture.
He walked past a bar covered in crystal decanters and glasses, much like his office, and I noticed that a half emptied glass of scotch sat on its surface. I followed him through the living room and into the dining room, where he pulled a bottle of red out of the wine rack.
“Look at the date,” he said earnestly.
I took the bottle from him and glanced up quickly. “The year I was born.”
He smiled. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. I think this one is worthy.”
I grinned as he took the bottle back from me, his eyes on mine. He looked delicious in his dark grey suit, crisp shirt and tie. He deftly filled two glasses, took a taster sip before handing me mine.
“To your new future,” he said, holding his glass up in a toast.
“To my future,” I agreed.
“Tell me about the interview,” he said, putting an arm around my waist and leading me into the living room, where he gestured for me to sit on the couch before turning on the fire. The flames leapt and I sighed contentedly. Dallon unfolded the blanket on the ottoman and put it over us as he sat down.
“The interview started with Beck from HR—I can’t remember her last name—and Ren Helding. Then it was just Ren and me. I showed him the pictures I took of my artwork, and he was really impressed.”
“Of course he was.”
I exhaled happily. “I think he thought I have talent. He asked if I’d ever considered Graphic Design and said I could start in reception and they’d pay for me to take some courses.”
“Courses?”
“Adobe courses. You know, like Photoshop. I think Graphic Designers use another one… Illustrator.”
“I see.” Dallon took a thoughtful sip of his wine, looking at the fire. “Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“I think so. I mean, it’s a way to make a living.” I thought for a moment. “I might be good at it.”
“I don’t doubt that, Miss Clair.”
I frowned. “Why all the formality?”
Dallon arched an eyebrow questioningly.
“You’re all ‘Miss Clair’ and shaking my hand.”
“I want you to know I’m taking you seriously.”
“Oh.” I felt momentarily annoyed, as if he was somehow being condescending. Don’t be like that, I told myself; he’s trying.
“I’ve never been great at computers,” I confessed. “I took a mandatory computers class for my degree and we used Photoshop a little bit, but I forget it all. I don’t remember it being intuitive though. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Graphic Design isn’t about knowing how to use the programs, it’s about having a vision and then using the tools to make your vision a reality. You’ve taken courses in design so you have more of an advantage than you think.”
I smiled and put my wine down on the coffee table, snuggling into him. Dallon always seemed to know the perfect thing to say. “Thanks. I just can’t believe my luck; first interview and I got a job!”
As if on cue, my phone started to ring. I rushed into the study where I’d left my purse on Dallon’s desk. It was Sam.
“Sam! I got the job!”
Sam squealed. “Hold on a sec, I’m stepping out into the hallway.”
I smiled, imagining Sam squealing in front of her coworkers. Soon she was back, talking rapidly and asking me to give her the details. When I told her about the Graphic Design possibility, she got even more excited.
“Are you free tomorrow night? I want to hear more about it, but I have to get back to work. Bring Dallon.”
“Sure, I’m free. And I’ll ask him.” I looked through the door at Dallon sipping his wine on the couch, still watching the fire.
“Good, because I also want to see your new place.”
“What? Here?”
Dallon glanced over from the couch, frowning questioningly. I turned my back on him and lowered my voice. “You want to come here?”
Sam laughed. “What, you don’t want me t
o meet Dallon King?” She said his name in such a breathless, dramatic manner that I couldn’t help but smile, even if I was panicking.
“You can meet him.” I hesitated. “Maybe at the bar?”
I could hear Sam’s answering frown. “What, does he not let you have visitors?”
Sam had always been good at getting what she wanted. She knew how to push people’s buttons. I knew I was stuck; if I didn’t have them over, she would think it was his home and I didn’t have a say, but if I did, he could possibly confirm her suspicions by being his normal, controlling self. I had to think quickly.
“No, I just don’t know how late he works, but maybe you can come for drinks after dinner?”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
I hit end, turned to see Dallon standing in the doorjamb and jumped. I hadn’t heard him approach and wondered how much he’d heard.
“That was Sam. She and Luke are coming for drinks on Friday night.”
“I heard. Sounded like you couldn’t get out of it.”
I sighed. “If you think I’m tenacious, wait until you meet Sam. She’s determined to meet you.” And discover what you’re really about, I thought.
“I’m excited to meet one of your friends.”
“My best friend,” I said in warning.
A slow grin spread across his features. “You’re protective of her, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “We’re protective of each other.”
His grin only widened. “Now I’m intrigued.”
“I haven’t told her anything. What am I supposed to say, that my boyfriend is a control freak that likes to tie me up and spank me?”
His brows shot up. “Is that how you see me?”
“Pretty much.”
“I haven’t even tied you up.”
“Yet.” The moment I said it, I flushed bright red.
“Hmm.” He crossed his arms and approached me, looking at the ground as if in thought. “And here I thought you saw me as your wealthy, good looking boyfriend that likes to take you for expensive dinners and buy you nice gifts.”
Lowering my gaze, I smiled as he put his hands on my hips, splayed his fingers against the naked flesh under my shirt. “That’s the part I told her about.”