I sigh, the disappointment a bitter taste in my mouth. Maybe some part of me actually wanted this to work out. Graphic Design 101: you should have some form of imagination, and if those are the kind of flippant answers he—
“I would tweak the name of your company instead. Cedarwood Book Design is too mundane and boring. It needs to be more engaging, something that grabs people’s attention and tells them what kind of designs they can expect here.”
I still for a moment, surprised and…intrigued? In all the years I’ve owned this business, no interviewee has ever thrown out an interview question and then proceeded to take it one step further. Leaning back in my seat, I steeple my fingers together. “Go on.”
He straightens, his eyes meeting mine. This time, he sounds… excited? “And even though I wouldn’t change the company logo, I would add it to the sign in the parking lot so people can see it when they drive by. That’s like free advertising, and all you have right now is a plain sign that says Cedarwood Book Design. Boring.”
Before I can stop it, a chuckle slips from my throat. Luke’s cheeks immediately turn a delicious shade of pink again, his fingers resuming thetap, tap, tapping motion on his upper thigh. “Shit, sorry. I don’t mean you’re boring or anything.” When I arch an eyebrow, he freezes. “Shit! I didn’t mean to cuss. Crap, I said it again. Can we maybe forget I said that?” His hopeful expression warms me from the inside out. I avert my eyes, pretending to study his resumé while I fight off the smile threatening to bloom across my face.
He's cute when he’s nervous.
“What design programs are you most familiar with?”
Luke seems to relax at the change of subject, and I nod along as he answers my question.
“May I see your portfolio?” Although he has no real-world experience, any graphic design program worth their salt would have taught their students to create a portfolio to show off their skill set. In the creative world, a good portfolio can seal the deal, while a lackluster one is the kiss of death.
“Uh, yeah! Of course.” Luke fumbles around inside his bag, making my lips crook upward. Finally, he pulls out a black binder and slides it across the desk. I try for a reassuring smile, but it fades when our hands brush and his soft skin momentarily distracts me. Luke’s sharp intake of breath has blood rushing in my ears as I open the cover, my eyes not really seeing anything as my pulse kicks up, and—
I cough, slamming back into reality as the first picture in Luke’s portfolio makes my normally calm façade crack a little. “Why did you give me a sketch of a man giving a blowjob?”
Luke’s face blanches, his timid smile immediately vanishing. Those beautiful green irises flare wide as he launches forward and snatches the portfolio from my grasp. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m sorry—” He runs a hand through his hair, tangling the strands around his fingers and giving them a small tug.
Shit, indeed. This whole kicked puppy look is really making me want to soothe him. An image of me pulling him onto my lap andrunning gentle hands over his lithe body until he relaxes pops into my mind unbidden.
Get yourself under control, Alek.
“Those are my drawings,” Luke mumbles, awkwardly jamming the folder back into his bag.
I blink.
Although I’m not an overly-talkative guy by nature, I don’t usually find myself stunned into silence. Yet, here we are.
“You drew that?” I finally ask.
“Sorry,” he mumbles again. Splotchy patches of red appear on his cheeks, his legs resuming their bouncing. When he reaches down to grab his book bag again, I expect him to pull out the correct folder, but he slings it across his chest and stands. My eyebrows furrow as he walks toward the door without even a backward glance.
“Where are you going? The interview isn’t over yet.”
He pauses with his hand wrapped around the door handle, making a frustrated sound as he looks at me over his shoulder. “Is there any point? You probably think I’m the most unprofessional person ever. You’re probably all like, ‘Wow, that Luke is a depraved little wanker, and I really dodged a bullet by not hiring him.’” His voice gets deeper in what I assume is a poor attempt to mimic me, his hands gesturing wildly.
This might actually be the worst interview I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure to endure, and yet, something that feels a lot like amusement zips through me. I cough into my fist, trying and failing to suppress the wry twist of my lips.
Nowthisis the impulsive and rash Luke Parker I’ve heard talk of.
Does he only act out when he gets emotional, or is he always like this?
I clear my throat, force my face back into neutral territory, and point toward his now vacant chair. “I do not think you are adeprived littlewanker, but I would like you to stop acting like a brat and sit down.Iwill decide when the interview is over.”
When Luke doesn’t give mybratcomment a snarky retort, that pleases me for some reason. He eyes the chair like it’s made of lava, but with one stilted nod, he slowly makes his way back over. He perches on the edge of the seat, looking as though he’s ready to bolt at any given moment.
I jerk my chin toward the book bag. “May I see?”
Luke pulls out a black portfolio, and I frown when I slip the cover open. Photos of business cards, company logos, and ads greet me. I absentmindedly tap my fingers on the desk as I flip through the pages, nothing about these photos making me feel particularly inspired.
I peer at him over my glasses. “Actually, I was hoping to look at your drawings again.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Why?”
