I Am the Wild (The Night Firm #1)- Karpov Kinrade Page 0,4

refuse to look. Back straight, chest up, I am confident and smart and I am not blowing a potential job for a cute face. Besides, no way am I ready to date after the last shitfest of a relationship. I'm happy enough single.

I stick to my resolve. I don't look back.

But I won't lie, my fingers are itching to draw him again.

And to touch him.

But I shove that inappropriate thought aside and continue on.

On the way to the office, a meow interrupts my thoughts, and I pause and kneel to give an orange tabby some love. The cat pushes against my hand, purring and demanding affection, which I'm happy to accommodate. I always have time for cats, and they always seem to have time for me.

I arrive at my destination after a five-minute walk, the tabby following me until I reach the front door. It's a tall glass and steel office building with no sign out front other than the address and blacked out windows. Very mysterious.

When I walk in, the mystery only deepens. The front lobby is a blend of modern and zen. Clean lines, minimalistic d茅cor, everything in beige and white. The wall behind the receptionist's desk flows with an indoor waterfall over stone. A man and woman, both unnaturally beautiful, both dressed in black, sit behind the desk typing on sleek computers. They look up simultaneously when I walk over, and I'm struck by their matching hazel eyes set against their dark amber skin. Even their bone structure is similar, and before I can stop myself I blurt out, "Are you twins?"

They each nod once, briefly, and then the woman asks, "How can I help you?"

I recognize her voice from the phone call. "I'm Eve Oliver. I have an interview right now."

I don't give more details because I don't have more details to give.

She frowns, then taps a small silver device on her ear. "She's here." She nods. "Have a seat. They will be with you shortly."

I pick a spot close to the front desk so I can do some sleuthing and see if I can find out more about this company. It also occurs to me I should try asking. "Excuse me?"

The two look up in unison and my heart lurches at the familiarity of that in synch connection one can only have with a twin.

"What does this company do exactly? What position am I applying for?" I feel stupid asking, but I'll feel even more stupid going into the meeting knowing nothing.

"They will tell you what you need to know during the interview," the woman says. I still haven't heard the guy speak.

"You can't give me any info?" I ask, perplexed. "A brochure, maybe? Website URL? Anything?"

She gives one curt shake of her head and then returns to her computer.

I sigh, give up, and pull out my sketchbook. I take a deep breath and quiet my mind, closing my eyes, letting stress and worry flow off of me like water. It doesn't take long for my attention to return to Sebastian. I envision every detail that I can recall. The different shades of green in his eyes. The aristocratic slope of his nose. His smooth brow and sharp cheekbones. I don't open my eyes as I sketch. I find sometimes drawing blind helps me hold the vision.

I don't know how long it takes me to finish, but when I open my eyes, I'm staring into his. Well, not really his, but his likeness on my paper. Even in charcoal and pencil he's breathtaking, and I'm ridiculous, lusting after my own drawing. I close my sketchbook and check the time, shocked to see I've already been here over an hour.

"Excuse me," I say, drawing the attention of two sets of impatient hazel eyes. "My interview was some time ago. Do you know how much longer I'll be waiting?"

"Until they call you up," she says, unhelpfully.

"Great. Thanks."

It's after midnight, and I've played more Candy Crush on my phone than I'm willing to admit, when the woman finally leaves her desk and gestures for me to follow.

She says nothing as we walk through marbled halls featuring modern paintings and I'm led to a boardroom. "Sit. They will join you shortly."

Lovely, more waiting. I take a seat at the long, mahogany table and stare out the window overlooking the New York harbor.

When I hear the click of the door, I stand, straightening my skirt suit and wiping my sweaty palm against my jacket. Taking a deep breath, I put