woman behind the desk looked me over. “You here for the interview?”
Huh?
My ears perked. A bright, blinding light shone around the woman as if she were a deity and in the background, angel song.
Do I dare?
It was miracle. Some higher power was giving me a sign, an opportunity here. I could feel it in my bones.
It’s dishonest.
I’d be an idiot to pass it up.
You don’t even know what the job is.
Who cares what the job is? It was a job! And Nanna always said beggars could not be choosers.
Lips parted, I nodded, and she muttered a bored sounding, “Name?”
I swallowed hard and peeped out, “Emily Aldrich.”
The woman went over the list then frowned at me. “You got a resume? What agency sent you?”
Oh no. I was had!
Liar.
Yeah. I was a terrible person. But as I thought about it, I asked myself what being a good person had got me in life thus far.
The answer came fast.
Nothing.
A whole load of steaming-hot nothing, that’s what.
Terrible person or not, I decided to go for it. My heart began to race but somehow I got out, “I was sent by Leah at The Edge. It’s just down the street.” I reached into my backpack, pulling out a nicely creased resume. “Here you go.”
Although the woman glared down at the wrinkled papers, she took them before shooting me another curious look. “Head on up. You’re number twelve.”
Oh my God, she bought it, I inwardly crowed. She actually bought it.
My feet carried me up the steps as fast as they could take me.
My luck was about to change. I would make sure of it.
I just had to.
The door opened and when a pretty, young woman stepped out, I smiled at her. She hesitated, looked me up and down, and then smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Suddenly self-conscious, I dipped my chin, peering down at my hands neatly resting in my lap. And this was my everlasting experience with beautiful people.
My chest began to twinge.
You don’t belong here, my brain hissed at me, and I took a moment to regroup.
What did I care if I didn’t fit in?
I was here for an interview, not to make friends. That was not the goal.
I mean, friends would be nice but they weren’t a necessity, and I’d gone this far without them, so—
“Emily Aldrich.”
My head snapped up, and grabbing my backpack, I slung it over my shoulder and stood. I made my way toward the door and the mature man seemed to blanch when he regarded me.
I forced a wide smile. “Hello, I’m Emily.”
“Uh…” He took another look at me and then uttered, “Micah. Nice to meet you.”
We shook hands briefly and the second I stepped into the room, I stilled.
A man sat on a swivel chair but that’s not what made me balk. The man… he was big, and muscly, and he had tattoos.
Oh, dear Lord.
I swallowed hard.
He was also very attractive.
Oh my. He sure is.
I tried to swallow a second time, but my mouth was dry and my tongue stuck.
Lord, no. Why?
He was one of the beautiful people.
When he noticed me, he stood and waited expectantly. With Micah at my back, clearing his throat, I shot forward. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I held out my hand to the handsome guy and pasted on my sunniest smile. “Hi, I’m Emily.” The man encased my small hand within his large one and I couldn’t help but stare. And because my brain-to-mouth filter had never really seemed to work properly, I just had to open my mouth and say, “Wow. Big hands.”
And the moment I realized what I said, my face bunched, I shrunk in on myself and groaned quietly.
Way to sound like an idiot, Emily. All of those years of college clearly paid off.
The man chuckled and I flushed neon pink. I snatched my hand back and dipped my chin. “I’m sorry.” My voice was barely there as I unconsciously wrung my hands together. “I’m a little nervous.”
“No problem.” The stud’s voice was so low and rough that I immediately broke out in goosebumps. Thank God I was wearing a jacket. “Please, sit.”
Yes. Sitting was good. I could only think of a handful of ways to humiliate myself while sitting. Standing, however? The possibilities were endless.
The three of us took our seats and there was no dillydallying. They got right into it.
Micah looked to the tattooed man and asked, “Where do you wanna start?”
He-man looked down at his scribbled-on notepad and started with, “Okay, well, I’ve read your resume,