The back wall of the room was floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street below and the buildings across the way. Inside, the office was all minimalist chic, lots of gray and white and black, down to the faux white fur rug beneath the glass-topped desk. The man who sat behind it, in an expensive, ergonomic chair, didn’t look like the sort of man with which Maggie would have inroads.
Even sitting, she could tell that he was tall. Long arms, and long, slender fingers steepled casually together. The glass desk offered a view of long, crossed legs, and tremendously expensive shoes. He wore a gray suit, and a lavender shirt, open at the throat. Long, straight auburn hair framed an angular face composed all of sharp angles and striking, big blue eyes.
“Miss Cook?”
She nodded.
“Please sit.”
She did. And belatedly remembered her manners. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me – Mr. Shaman.” She stumbled over the name, and wondered, briefly, why Maggie hadn’t shared it with her.
One corner of the man’s mouth twitched – a quick flicker that didn’t turn into a smile. “I owe the Teague family more than a few favors. You’ve brought your resume?”
“Oh, yes.” She pulled it from her folder and handed it over, realizing as she did that she had no idea what sort of position was on offer.
He reached to pluck it off his blotter, a flat, platinum band winking on the ring finger of his left hand. He read the whole of it, eyes tracking back and forth across the lines of tight text. Then he nodded, set it aside, and folded his hands over his flat stomach, leaning back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself, Ms. Cook.”
His regard – direct and carefully composed – left her wanting to shrink down into her chair. He was very good-looking, pretty even, but lacked all the touchable humanity of guys like Carter or Aidan. He looked regal, carved from marble. Like an expensive statue that should be kept on a high shelf, out of reach of children.
She found that she had to take a deep breath before she spoke, silently berating herself for her nerves. She wasn’t the sort who got stumbly and uncertain in front of people.
“I got my bachelor’s in Accounting at UT,” she said, nodding toward the resume, “and I started with a private CPA firm here in Knoxville right after I graduated, Lott & Sons. I took a job in Chicago…” She trailed off when he waved for silence.
“No, no. Your resume is perfect. I mean, tell me about yourself.” He made a littlego ongesture. “Tell me why Maggie Teague called me before breakfast and asked if I could offer you a job.”
It hit her like a shove, the knowledge that Maggie had asked outright like that. She’d known what she was getting herself into, calling in a favor like that. But this felt so much like charity.
Still, she didn’t guess this Shaman, whoever he was, was the sort to be strong-armed into doing anything he didn’t want to.
“I grew up with Ava,” she said, starting over. Her voice sounded more normal, at least. “We were best friends all through school, like this.” She lifted two crossed fingers, and the corner of his mouth twitched again. “I grew up around the club, even if I wasn’t officially one of their kids. I went to parties. I heard stuff.” Better not to say too much. She shrugged. “When I moved back to town, Maggie started offering to help me find a job. I’ve been filling out apps online – not successfully, so I finally decided to take her up on it. She called this morning and told me to be at this address – though, to be honest, I have no idea who you are, or what you do, or what position I’m even applying for.”
Oops. Too much.
But his twitch became a smile, small and tight, but unmistakable. “Honesty. I like it.”
“Sorry.” She felt her face heat. “I’m kind of a blabber-mouth.”
“No, it’s refreshing.” He tipped his head. “To a degree.” His chin ducked a fraction, and his look said that refreshing could get old really quick. The office – his outfit, his overall look – suggested he didn’t suffer fools.
She nodded.
“I suppose you could say I’m a – friend of the club as well.” His gaze flicked over toward the bookcase, brow crimping, and for a moment, he looked almost surprised. Then his gaze returned, expression smoothing. “I’ve known Kev –Tango, since we were both boys. I’ve been in business with the Lean Dogs for several years now.”
“Oh.”
“This is my second office. I have another on the other side of town. I’m something of an investor – fingers in lots of pies, and all of that. I’ve begun investing in real estate, lately. If you join the team, you’ll be working here, out of this office, as part of what is currently a three-person accounting team. They’re all about your age. Very charming. You should like them.”
“I…”
“You may of course have a few days to think it over, but, to be truthful, Maggie’s phone call came at the right time. I’m in need of another accountant, and you’re perfectly qualified, and part of the family, so to speak. The job is yours if you want it. You can start right away.”
She blinked at him.
His brows lifted. “Do you have any questions?”
She had a whole print-out of them, questions she carried with her to every interview. She’d memorized them long ago, but struggled now to recall a single one.
He gave her another smile, amused.
