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“Perfect.”
I scowl. “What does my age have to do with anything?”
“It does. Are you involved in a relationship at the current time?”
I couldn’t answer because suddenly, all the oxygen in the room is sucked out. My chest tightens as the seconds tick by, making me feel dizzy.
“Paige?”
“I-uh-no. Not at the moment.”
“Good. Perfect. Are you a virgin?”
Anger bubbles inside me,, and my blood begins to boil. “Oh my God, how dare you! That’s none of your business.”
“Are you? And if not, have you been tested for STDs?”
I stand up so fast that the chair scrapes backward along the floor, making me wince at the familiar sound of nails on a chalkboard. Foster’s face remains passive.
“This is highly inappropriate. I wonder what human resources would say about your line of questioning?”
“Sit, Miss Butler. I assure you my line of questioning is related to the proposition I have for you.”
I scoff. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
“I think your financial status says otherwise. Sit.”
I stood there, gaping with my mouth hanging open. “How would you know anything about my financial status?”
“I make it my business to know my employees. Now sit.” It was more of a demand than a request. I stood there, glancing over at the setting sun rays gleaming across the almond granite floor. Instead of sitting, I walk over to the window, peering down at the traffic on the avenue many stories below.
After five years out of college and a sporadic work record, I had mounting debt. One of my credit cards was at the limit, and two others were close. I still have fifteen years to pay on my twenty-year school loan. Zane, or my sister in law, Lana, could’ve easily wiped out the debt, but I wanted to do it on my own.
The heat from the sun warms me, driving away from the cold that had crept into my body, making goosebumps sprout on my skin. I was lost in thought until I felt Foster run his warm fingers over my bare arm.
“So soft. You have lovely skin,” he whispers into my ear.
Fear grips me, and I shiver. “Please, don’t do this.”
Foster backs away, but his hand remains on my shoulders to turn me before he lets me go. His face is tight, and his frown is so deep that a wrinkle forms above the bridge of his nose.
“Do what? I have no intention of doing anything without your consent.”
“Consent for what?” I cry.
“Go home, Paige. We’ll talk about my proposition on Monday.”
He walks back to his chair again and loosens his black tie. In the four months, I have worked for Foster Black; this is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him.
“If it involves sex, I don’t want to be a part of any proposition.”
“It’s not sex. Go home.”
I stalk toward him with my hands on my hips, stopping just short of his desk. Shaking my hair, so it falls off my shoulders and down my back, I pin him with a curious glare.
“What is it then? You can’t ask such probing questions and expect me to wait two days until you reveal what you want.”
“If you don’t want to wait, we can discuss it at lunch tomorrow. I can pick you up.”
