Tamara
And another one bites the dust and quite literally. My last interview is tripping over his feet trying to leave my office. Rushing over to help the dude to his feet, I saw the absolute humiliation in his eyes. “You okay?” I ask him as he nods his head and leaves.
I close my door for a moment to catch a breath and clear my head. Hiring and firing is such a pain in the ass, but like many of the other jobs I do here, is a necessary evil. Sitting up in my chair, I remove these blasted high heels and rub my feet. Never really liked heels, but the boss likes them.
Ha! That fucker likes to look at my ass more than anything, even though he has this wife that actually owns this company. He better not let her catch him staring with his mouth watering at my ass or anything remotely near me. I just hate having to wear heels to an oil company.
There’s never enough time in one day to actually get everything accomplished, so I’m here late most days. Every time I think that I’m going to leave, he somehow senses it and raises my pay. Hell, I make about as much as one of those muscle men out there.
Sighing, I look at the shoes, cringing at the thought of having to put those damned things back on. I grimace and twist my face as I shove the devil’s payback for being pretty onto my feet. I grab a file folder and head to my door.
“Alright,” I stick my head out the door looking for the next new guy to possibly hire. I peer down over the paper to see one guy still left.
“You’re the lucky last guy that has to see me today,” I smile because I had to, although this guy seems to have it together. And has a lot to offer a gal, if you know what I mean. Leading him inside my office, I offer him a seat, noticing how handsome he truly is.
“So, Kenneth,” I lean forward and look over his application. “Is it Kenneth, or Ken?”
“I prefer the latter,” he says a little awkwardly.
Hmm, a reserved man with quiet strength. I like him a lot. “Tell me a little about yourself and why you want to work for us?”
“Well, I’m new to the area, just seeking some employment,” he answers, staring directly at me, his dark chocolate eyes beaming. “And someone led me to believe that you are in need of more workers.”
I slap the top of my desk and stand up. “Well, today’s your day!” I must’ve startled him because he jumped. “Our production has increased lately, so whoever sent you our way, tell them thanks.”
“Really?” Ken stands from his seat and smiles broadly. “Thank you!”
“C’mon,” I grab his arm and he sort of pulls away. Perhaps, I’m advancing a little too soon. Backing off his arm, “I’m sorry for that, but let me show you around.”
“No need to apologize, just not used to a gal that’s bubbly,” he looks down at his feet. “That’s all.”
“Okay, but welcome to our company,” I smile and show him the building interior. “The outside I’ll leave to Jason Swieter, he’s an excellent oil man. Experienced,” I say as I recall the last time the company paid for an evening out. He’s always the funny one and makes sure that everyone has a great time. On occasion, I flirt with him or another guy, a time or two, but nothing serious.
“Thank you,” Kenneth replies.
“I’ll take you outside and introduce you to him. You’ll be in good hands,” I say to him as we walk out into the bright sunlight.
“Hey, Jason!” I call him over to me amidst the whistling and googly eyes staring at me. “Can you come here for a minute?”
He rushes over to me with his skin glistening from sweat, all over those ripped abs. Wow! “This here’s Ken Bryant.” The two men shake hands. “Can you show him around, teach him the ropes?”
“Sure,” he pulls his gloves back on, walking backwards. “C’mon, Ken. Let me show you how we do things.”
“You lead, I’ll follow,” he takes off after him.
As I turn to go back inside, one of my heels sinks into the soft earth, keeping my foot straight. But my body doesn’t. It twists my ankle so that it hurts. God-damned things. “I hate heels!” I scream out in pain. I try to stand, but the pain worsens.
Jason runs back to me and scoops me up, running to his car. He sets me in the back seat and races from the parking lot. “What happened?” He asks me, looking through the rear-view mirror.
“Well, these contraptions that they call heels and are supposed to make us even more beautiful, but they’re a fucking hazard to women everywhere,” I sigh and wince with the pain throbbing through my ankle. “I’m sorry,” I wince again. “I’m normally not like this.”
“I know,” he replies, pulling into the emergency room parking lot. “Let’s go.” Jason helps me up, but when I can’t walk anymore, he scoops me into his arms. He smells of sweat and earth. A manly musky scent that’s enticing delicious thoughts in my mind.
Setting me down on the gurney, the team of docs get all the rig-a-moro to assess my injury to finally conclude that I, Tamara Daniels, have a mere sprain. Such a waste of time and money.
“Keep off of it for a couple of days and ice it, twenty minutes off, twenty minutes on,” the doctor hands me my release papers and another guy wheels me from the room.
Once out in the waiting area, Jason looks up and walks over. “Everything good? No bones broken?” he asks me, leaning down to help me up with my crutch.
“Nothing broken, just my pride,” I chuckle as he turns to the guy that wheeled me out.
“Any special instructions?” he asks him.
“No, just make sure your wife stays off of it for a couple of days,” is his response.
My eyes grow wide and my mouth opens. I quickly regain composure as Jason gets me into the car and drives me home. Picking me up from the back seat, he takes me to the door.
For the first time, our eyes meet together in a single moment.
Boom!