“Who is up first?” I ask Jamie, flipping through the stack of papers on my desk.
Jamie is no longer an assistant. She is now the director of programs, overseeing all departments of the company, directly under me.
Jamie slides a file with a résumé across my desk. “Jacob Andrews, formally an assistant for Madilyn Bailey.”
“The singer?” I ask, impressed.
“Yes, ma’am,” she replies and hands me a copy of the interview form that we developed together for all levels in the company.
I glance over his résumé, questions lingering in my mind.Why did he leave a job like that for a job like this? Did he harass her? Did he hurt her?
Brady’s smile chills my skin, and I slam my eyes shut in hopes that it will go away. But I’m afraid it never will.
With a bias already in my mind from my own running thoughts, I set the résumé down and gesture to the door. “Send him in.”
“You got it.” Jamie smiles at me and opens the door, calling to Mr. Andrews. “Right in here.”
The first thing I notice about him is his eyes. They seem sincere.
Ha!
I know better than that though. True monsters hide their evil in plain sight. You think you are seeing kindness and genuineness in their eyes, but that’s just the reflection of their victims’ kind and genuine selves.
“Have a seat.” I extend my hand to one of the leather chairs across my desk.
At least my giant wooden desk sits between us. But the true comfort comes from the bodyguards standing right outside my door. That’s one perk of the job, of my life now—constant protection.
Mr. Andrews’s dark brown eyes look into mine, and an ice-cold shiver runs down my spine. I quickly look away, hoping to hide my discomfort.
I sit up in my chair, clasping my hands in my lap, and start with the first prompt. “Tell me about yourself.”
Since he entered the room, my mind has been analyzing everything about him. It just happens. I watch for different things—body language, tone, what hand he favors, what my chances are of escaping if he decides to attack.
Mr. Andrews is a man of confidence. Since the second he walked into my office, his shoulders have been pushed back, his chest inching forward. Arrogance exudes from him. He glances around, taking in the minimalist decor, and smirks. My guess is, he’s imagining what he could do better.
I’ve known plenty of men like him before.
He is far too comfortable in this interview, leaning back in his seat, stretching his arms. His body says all the things he doesn’t.
When I look away and he thinks I don’t notice, he glances at my chest.
Wrong move.
“I’m Jacob Andrews. I’m twenty-two. I have a bachelor’s in marketing. I have assisted musicians, like Madilyn Bailey and even a member of Imagine Dragons. You’re not going to find anyone better. Especially your one thirty.” He winks at me, and I’m ready to press the hidden security button under my desk.
He looks at me, waiting to see me laugh, but this boy is in for a hell of a shock because it’s never going to come.
That feeling of adrenaline tingles my senses as I shut his file and lean back in my chair, matching his stance, and I toss his file in the trash bin beside my desk.
He tenses and scoffs. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
Smiling, I cross my arms, and just for a second, his gaze drops to my chest … again.
I aim my words right at his pride. “Actually, Mr. Andrews, it was in everything youdidn’tsay and in the things you did. You walked in like you owned the place. You boasted about your impressive résumé. But most of all, you look at me like a piece of ass and not your potential boss. You have looked at my boobs and winked at me, and I’m guessing if I walked across this room, you would stare at my ass.”
I stand up, sliding my hand under my desk and hovering my finger over the button. “I have met men like you, I have dated men like you, and I have been assaulted by men like you. I will not employ men like you.That, Mr. Andrews, is the problem.”
My finger pushes the button, and not a second later, the door flies open. My two personal guards, Max and Keanu, burst into the room, their eyes instantly going to Jacob Andrews.
