“Hmm.” I made the noncommittal sound, busy snipping price tags so I could have an easier time calculating my expenses later at home. Both my grandfather and Alyx’s were ex-military with Quaker backgrounds, and they figured very strongly in our childhoods. Add those two elements together and you got girls more comfortable shopping off the rack even though our credit card limits could afford a lot more than that.
While waiting for the appetizers, I told Alyx about the two other job offers I received from companies that were just as well-known as Kastein Inc. “One of them even offered me a thousand dollars on the spot as a signing bonus.”
Alyx choked. “And you didn’t take it?”
I chewed on my lip. “I really want the job at Kastein. It’s my dream job---”
She smirked. “Plus your dream boss, too, with his dream dick---”
I choked on my coffee. “That has nothing to do with it.”
But Alyx just crowed, “So you do think his dick is a---”
“No, I do not.” Alyx still didn’t know what happened or almost happened to us and how I totally had my walk of shame after my one-on-one with Netherland’s #1 playboy.
Last night, I stayed up late just so I could Google everything there was to know about Constantijin. Wikipedia told me he was an Eton and Cambridge graduate and an only child. His father had long retired, but his mother was Chairman of the Board while he had taken on the mantle of CEO a few years back, personally spearheading the company’s entry in the American market.
At thirty-two years old, what he accomplished for Kastein Inc. was mind-boggling. But what really filled me with shock and not a little self-disgust was how the names of his former lovers, hook-ups, and floozies could easily fill up a phone directory.
“Just be warned, Yanna,” Alyx murmured. “Office romances never end right.”
I let out an unladylike snort at that, unable to help it. Romance was definitely not something in Constantijin Kastein’s vocabulary. Mind-blowingly hot sex, yes, but a grand sweeping romance?
He might have given me my first (mini) orgasm, and he might keep me awake with consecutive wet dreams, but he was not the Mr. Right I have been waiting for.
Lesson #3
Focus on looking for Mr. Right –
And not Mr. Fuck.
If your billionaire finds out, he won’t let you go until he has you.
I am not going to look for Constantijin Kastein.
It was a mantra I repeated in my mind continuously when I made my way to the 34/F reception area of the executive offices of Kastein Inc. The girl behind the front desk, Megan, smiled at me warmly. She looked young and bubbly, but she, too, was dressed in black, and it was proof that I had made the right decision to shop for an all-black corporate wardrobe. In this office, any other color could probably get me tagged as Al-Qaeda or something equally horrible and to be avoided at all costs.
“Ms. Everleigh?”
“That’s me. Is Ms. Charli in already?”
“Yes. She’ll appreciate that you’re early. Let me take you to her now.” Megan escorted me to the very same conference room that I had the highest-lowest point in my life. I was already blushing the moment I entered the room, the same sense of shame attacking me when I recalled the older woman’s look of shock upon seeing me in her boss’s arms.
God. The memory made me feel like a slut.
Constantijin was nowhere in sight – not that I was looking or anything. Only one woman was inside the room, and boy, did she look scary! She made Vogue’s Anna Wintour look positively warm.
She stood up the moment I entered, looking svelte in her black buttoned up polo, which was worn over a black-and-white striped turtleneck and paired with a leather-belted mini and black stockings.
The overall impact was phenomenal.
Wow was all I could think.
“Hello, Yanna. My name is Charli – without an E – and you will be reporting to me.” Her voice was very, very cultured, with the slightest hint of a French accent.
She was terrifying. I was tempted to run away, but only the prospect of working in my dream job kept me in place. I shook her hand gingerly and winced at the tiny tremble in my voice as I said, “Hello, Ms. Charli. I’d just like you to know how excited I am to work for you and the company.”
“Just Charli, ma belle.”
I nodded dumbly and gratefully took the seat she indicated with a wave of her well-manicured hand.
“Now, you know what Kastein company is?”
“Yes.” I recited what I learned from the Web, which was pretty much everything since I had a photographic memory. “It’s one of the fastest growing companies in Europe and North America. It specializes in real estate and entertainment. Mr. Erik Kastein concentrates on real estate while his son Constantijin Kastein concentrates on turning books and mangas into blockbuster movies and TV series.” I didn’t want to sound like I was trying to impress her or anything, even though I really was. I just wanted to make sure she knew I wasn’t taking this interview lightly.
“That’s right. Magnifique,” she murmured with a beautiful smile. “Now, we’ve hired you to be our marketing specialist.”
I blinked. “I thought you were just looking for a researcher.”
“True,” Charli replied. “But your research will be both textual and on-field. The thing is, we’re not really interested about where you’ve graduated, what your degree is, or even where you worked previously.”
I straightened at her words, now even more confused.
“What we were really interested about was your ability to meet business talents with your main passion. And that’s reading, no?”
It took me a while to adjust to her French, umm, verbal peculiarities. She said ‘no’, but what she really meant was ‘yes’…yes?
I finally nodded. “Err, yes, I love to read.”
Her face remained unsmiling as she asked, “But you can’t write to save your life, no?”
The way Charli said it made me wince, but it was true. “Yes.”
“And that’s why we need you. We are not interested in hiring writers. They are often biased and egoistical, often unable to appreciate anyone else’s writing over theirs. But you - you know how to judge books and writing without being a writer yourself and that’s why we need you.”
“I see.” But I didn’t.
“This is what you’d call a dream job, ma belle.”
I jerked in my seat at her words.
The words sounded eerie, more like a curse than a blessing.