Page 16 of Wells

"I do."

"Most of what I handle is confidential and sensitive. You'd be sitting on information you can't discuss or share, and can't use for anything except the single task I assign."

She nods once. "In my last role, I built data visualizations for a medical records firm, coding and inputting charts, so I'm used to strict nondisclosure rules. That isn't a problem."

"It's also going to be boring as hell." I watch her face for a crack. "You'll spend most of your time turning data packets into infographics and waiting for me to approve them. There's no creative freedom, no input on strategy. You take what I give you and make it pretty enough for executives who don't know what a firewall is."

"Can't be more boring than medical data entry, I can assure you." Her voice stays level.

I narrow my eyes. She doesn't flinch.

"You think you can keep up with technical material you don't have the background for?"

"I think that's exactly why you need me." She steps closer to the table and rests her hand on the back of a chair. "My understanding is you're fluent, and the people who need your reports aren't. I would be the bridge. I think I am perfect for that type of position."

My jaw tightens. She should sound defensive by now, maybe even uncertain. She isn't trying to prove herself by over-explaining. Instead, she stands there like she already earned the room.

I push off the table and close half the distance between us. "I don't deal in ambiguity. I won't be an easy man to work for, and I can't offer any apologies for that."

"Respectfully, I wouldn't be taking the job for personalities. I like the scope and feel like I can do what you need. I take direction well, and leave everything else at home."

The pressure behind my neck tightens and spreads. I can't argue with that. I've given her every reason not to want this job, and she keeps coming back for more.

I uncross my arms and shift my weight. "You're very confident for someone who is interviewing for a job."

"I'm good at what I do, and I think this job is a perfect marriage of my experience and my training." She doesn't smile, but the edge in her tone sharpens. "And I don't waste time pretending otherwise."

I exhale slowly, and the decision forms before I can stop it. "Well, I guess you've made a good case, since this is your third interview. I'll discuss it with Sandra, but know that I'm not used to having someone working with me, and it may end up that it won't work. I'm open to seeing how it goes."

Her eyebrows lift slightly. "I can work with that. I'll prove my worth."

I straighten, and my voice flattens slightly. "I'll ask Sandra to send the offer by the end of the day. Standard NDA, security clearance, and background report will have to be checked out before anything is final. If anything flags, the offer pulls."

"My life is boring. I can assure you all of that will pass with flying colors."

"Did Sandra tell you where to go once we finished? I can walk you back to her office if you need me to show you the way?"

She nods once and picks up her bag from the chair. "Thank you for the opportunity. And she told me to walk back to HR once we finished. I know the way, but thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." I move toward the door and pull it open. "You'll be working directly under me. That means my hours, my standards, my approval on everything before it goes upstream. Like I said earlier, I'm not an easy man to work for."

"I can handle it." She walks past me, and the scent of something clean and faintly floral follows her into the hallway.

I watch her walk toward the elevator. My jaw locks. She doesn't look back.

The door closes, leaving me alone in the conference room with the river behind me and the decision I didn't plan to make sitting heavy in my chest.

I pull my phone and type a message to Benney.

The candidate is fine. Send the offer. I can't make any promises how it will go, but willing to give it a try.

I hit send, pocket the phone before grabbing the file and heading back to my office. Once I get back, I open Cera Simum's file and look over her résumé more closely. I hadn't even bothered to open the file yesterday when the courier dropped it off.

Bachelor's degree in graphic design from Tulane. She spent one year doing freelance, and the last three years working for a medical records firm, just like she said.

There's nothing special here, but something tugs at me. Her references check out. Her address appears to be in the Mid-City District, and she has a local phone number.

I study her name at the top of the page. Cera Simum.