“It’s my last chance,” she found herself admitting.
“That sounds ominous,” he murmured absently as he reached over and plucked the bag out of her arms.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to help but wince as the blood rushed back to her fingers. “I want to be a writer,” she found herself admitting.
“And you think this is the only way to make that happen?” he asked, sounding curious as he shifted the bag to one arm.
“No, but I need a way to pay my bills and I was hoping to be able to do something that I loved to make that happen,” Jamie admitted even as she couldn’t help but wonder if she was wasting her time.
Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a writer.
Maybe she should–
“Is that what you were planning on telling him to get the interview?” he asked, breaking into the depressing thoughts that kept her up most nights.
“I honestly don’t know what I’m going to say to him. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” Jamie admitted, struggling to take her next breath as she watched the light go out for floor nineteen, seconds before number twenty was suddenly illuminated and she thought that she was going to be sick.
“Fair enough,” he murmured as the elevator doors slid open and she suddenly found herself being herded out of the elevator and toward an imposing woman sitting behind a large oak desk and–
Jamie found herself looking at the most amazing picture that she’d ever seen hanging on the wall behind the woman that really didn’t look happy to see her. She’d probably seen thousands of landscape photos in her life, but she’d never seen one quite like this one. The details were…
Enough to make her momentarily forget that she really couldn’t go through with this.
“No, wait! I can’t do this. This was a mistake,” Jamie said in a rush as he guided her over to the desk when all she wanted to do was turn around and make a run for it.
“You’ll be fine,” he said, lying to her because they both knew no such thing!
“I really won’t though,” she mumbled hollowly only to whimper when they reached the desk and–
“Good morning, Amy. I’m going to need you to cancel my conference call with Beijing this morning and see if you can reschedule the meeting with the Paris office this afternoon,” the man that wouldn’t let her run away, said.
“That shouldn’t be a problem, Mr. Bradford,” Amy said with a warm smile as she handed him a stack of messages while Jamie stood there, trying to make sense out of what was happening.
This was Sebastian Bradford? Jamie thought numbly as she looked at him, really looked at him, taking in his meticulously combed short black hair, the thin scar just above his right eyebrow, the way that his eyes lit up with amusement, and the way that he filled out his suit to perfection and swallowed hard, because she’d honestly been expecting a portly old man who would take pity on her and?
Oh, God…
“Would you like me to have breakfast sent up?” Amy asked, already reaching for the phone to do just that when the man that Jamie was here to beg for an interview shook his head.
“No need. My eight o’clock brought breakfast this morning,” he said, grabbing Jamie by the arm and led her toward the large imposing, ornate double doors.
“Is there anything that you need this morning, Mr. Bradford?” Amy asked, not really looking all that concerned that her boss was manhandling someone.
“Tell security that no one gets in without an appointment and hold my calls, please,” Sebastian said as he released his hold on Jamie to open one of the large doors before grabbing her arm again and pulling her inside before she had a chance to make a run for it.
“Umm, maybe we should talk about this?” Jamie said, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening.
“You’re interviewing me,” the man that she probably should have asked his name sooner, said, shrugging as he dropped the bag filled with baked goods on the coffee table to her left before heading toward a mini-bar to grab two bottles of orange juice while Jamie stood there, taking in the large, expensively decorated office that she’d been dragged into and found herself once again nodding like an idiot for no apparent reason.
“Okay,” she mumbled weakly as he handed her a bottle of juice and gestured for her to sit down.
“Where should we start?” the man who never gave interviews, asked as he sat down on a large, brown leather couch across from her.
“Okay,” Jamie found herself mumbling again as she sat down and tried to figure out what she was supposed to do since she hadn’t actually expected to get this far.
Lips twitching, the incredibly handsome man that she’d shared an elevator with helped himself to a lemon Danish from the bag as he said, “Why don’t we start from the beginning?”
And since that sounded like a really good idea, Jamie found herself nodding like an idiot and once again, mumbling, “Okay.”