Page 8 of Hating the Boss

“Impressive company to work for.”

“I enjoyed my time there.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked, raising a brow.

She shrugged slightly, letting out a deep breath, as if she had been holding it for quite some time. “I suppose I’m looking to try something new.”

“And you think being a personal assistant is the right path?”

“I don’t see why not. I have excellent time management skills. My communication skills are…”

“Yes, yes.” I waved her off, making her mouth snap shut. “I can see all that on your résumé here.”

“What does your personal life look like?” I asked.

“E-excuse me?” she stammered.

She looked at Fred for help, but he just shifted in his seat slightly, clearly unsure of my interview tactics, but not ballsy enough to question me. I was his boss, after all.

“This job is demanding. Might call for early mornings. The occasional late night. I need someone who can be dependable,” I said.

“I work and spend time with friends occasionally,” she said curtly.

I wondered if those “friends” were more than that.

“My last assistant…” I rolled my eyes. “Was not dependable. She got knocked up and quit, which is why you’re here now.”

“Well, I don’t have babies on the brain, Mr. Ashcroft.” Her gaze narrowed. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“What about a boyfriend?” I asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Fred cleared his throat nervously. I was probably breaking every HR rule, but I didn’t care. It was fun watching Sarah squirm while I probed her with questions.

“I don’t see how…” said Sarah, her brows furrowed.

“I’m just wondering how dedicated to the job you could be.” I shrugged, leaning back in my seat and placing my hands on my stomach.

“I don’t have one,” she said, her voice clipped.

I wondered if that was a touchy subject.

“Girlfriend?” I tried, wanting to cover all my bases.

This made her crack the slightest smile at the corner of her lip.

“Can’t say I have one of those either,” she said, trying to hide her amusement. “I do take care of my sister…” she said, her smile disappearing and her lips curling downward slightly. Clearly, this was a sensitive topic.

I looked at her curiously, waiting for more. Wanting more. But she didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t push it. I knew when to back off.

“Sounds like you’re dependable,” said Fred chirpily, inserting himself into what was supposed to be his interview. Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave mine though, and I found mine drifting down to the coffee stain just under the buttons of her blazer. She noticed me noticing it and quickly brought her thumb to her mouth. She ran her tongue over the tip of it, while I imagined it being the tip of something else, before rubbing at the stain.

As she pulled at the fabric, I caught a glimpse of the pale skin just under the neckline. Voluminous and smooth, her cleavage garnered every bit of my attention. I tugged slightly at the collar of my shirt, as heat crept up my neck and down toward my groin. The urge to climb over this table toward her was overwhelming, and if Fred wasn’t here and it didn’t pose a lawsuit, I might have.

Sarah cleared her throat and straightened in her chair, her blazer shifting and covering that bit of flesh that had momentarily paralyzed me. I raised my eyes to meet hers, noting the flush of color in her cheeks and her sudden sharp intakes of breath.

“Did you have a little spill?” I asked, a smirk creeping across my lips.

“Someone wasn’t watching where they were going.” She replied snarkily.