Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“No, thank you.” She leaves me alone in the room, and I clasp my hands together in my lap. God, I hate fucking interviews. I haven’t been to one in ten years. I can almost hear my heart as it tries to escape from my chest.
The door opens, and a young man walks in. “Hello.”
I stand to shake his hand, and I’m shocked. He’s young… and very handsome with dark wavy hair and brown eyes, not at all what I expected. “Henry Morgan.”
“Eliza Bennet.” I smile.
His eyes glow as he takes a seat. “Please, take a seat.”
He opens a folder that holds my resumé, and his eyes scan through it. “Your resumé is very impressive.”
“Thanks.”
He closes the folder and his eyes come to mine. “Why do you want this job, Eliza?”
Oh shit.
“Well, I’m looking to move to another field outside of the hospital.”
“I see. And what made you want to work for me?”
I smile awkwardly. “To be honest, I don’t care who I work for. I liked the position that you are offering.”
He smiles broadly and I know he liked that answer. “The position is for a surgery manager. I see you’ve managed before having worked in intensive care, recovery, and paediatrics.”
“Yes.”
“Very impressive.” His eyes hold mine, and there seems to be a buzz in the air between us.
Is he attracted to me?
“Let me tell you about the position. You will be my right hand. I need you to manage the seven members of staff that I have, while also seeing to the recovery care for my post-op patients. You would need to be on call overnight on the days that I’m in surgery in case the patient is in distress and needs advice or pain management. I operate on Tuesdays and Thursdays. ”
I listen intently.
“You would be working out of this office. However, there will be times when you would need to travel with me to conferences, both interstate and overseas. ”
Excitement fills me, this sounds fantastic.
“How does that sound?”
“Great.”
“I would need you to start as soon as possible. My manager has become unwell and is currently unable to return.”
“I could possibly start as soon as next week,” I offer. “I have some paid time off that I could take to allow me to finish earlier.”
He sits back in his seat and crosses his leg. “You have an amazing resumé.”
“Thank you.” I smile.
“However, there is one small problem.”
“There is?”
“I’m not sure I would be able to work with you.”
My face falls. “Why not?”
“At the risk of being unprofessional, I have to tell you that I’m physically attracted to you.”
“Oh.” What the fuck? “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“I’ve never worked with someone I was attracted to before, have you?”
“Umm.” Jeez, this guy doesn’t mince his words.
“I’m very professional, and I’m in a relationship,” I lie. “You wouldn’t need to worry about that.”
He smiles to himself as if liking that. “Well, that makes things easier. I’m a professional, too.”
I clasp my hands in front of me.
He stares at me for a moment, as if assessing the situation. “I have one more person to interview this afternoon. I will let you know tonight, by email, if you have been successful.”
“Okay.” I smile.
He stands and holds out his hand to shake mine. “Goodbye, Dr. Morgan.”
“Call me Henry.”
I force a smile. Oh hell, this interview is weird. “Okay, Henry, I look forward to your email. Have a lovely weekend.”
“You, too.”
I turn and walk out of the room, not entirely sure what position it is that I’ve just applied for.
Who the fuck tells a person they are interviewing that they are attracted to them? What was that about?
I smile to the girls as I walk through reception. Does he tell them that he’s attracted to them, too? “Goodbye.”
“Bye.” They call.
I get into the elevator and shake my head. “Wow,” I whisper to myself.
Maybe he was just being honest. I mean, if he is a serial player or sleazeball, he wouldn’t say that to me in an interview, he would just perv on me while I worked.
I shrug. It takes all types, I suppose. I walk out of the building, across the street, and into the bar to find Nathan.
He’s sitting at a table in the back, scrolling through his phone with a glass of scotch in front of him.
“Hey.” I smile as I sit down.
He puts his phone down. “How did it go?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Fine, I guess. I find out tonight but the job sounds great.” I can’t elaborate on what Dr. Morgan said to me or Nathan will march into his office like a psycho. He’s a tad overprotective.
“What do you want to drink?” he asks.
I glance over the selection. “A glass of red, please.”
“Okay.” He gets up and disappears to the bar. I take out my phone and text my two best friends. These ones are my girls—the ones I tell everything.