“If someone’s got past relationship trauma they need to work through, we have a psychologist on the team who’ll be helping with that.”
Bill’s looking from Vanessa to me, and I can tell there’s something he wants to know. “May I ask a personal question?”
Vanessa stiffens in her chair. “We’re not sleeping together.”
Bill blinks. “What?”
“Sorry.” She looks like she wants the floor to swallow her up. “Your question?”
“Oh. Um.” Bill tugs his tie with an uncomfortable little laugh. “Have you cast anyone yet who—well—this is embarrassing. Um, anyone who might be a good match for me?”
His sincerity almost breaks my heart. So does the fact that there’s no way in hell we’re hiring Bill the Boardroom Bangin’ Banker. “It’s pretty impossible to figure out who’d pair up well with anyone else, isn’t it?” I offer.
Vanessa looks straight ahead, nodding her agreement. “Right. Totally impossible to predict who might hit it off and who’d be an absolute disaster together.”
“Yes, definitely.” I clear my throat again. “Some people absolutely should not be in a relationship together.”
“Or any relationship,” Vanessa adds. “Sometimes, it’s nothing personal. Just where people are at in the process.”
“Yeah, okay.” Bill’s eyes ping-pong between the two of us. “That makes sense.”
I’m not sure we’ve answered his question. To be honest, I’ve forgotten what the question was. “We’re still in the early stages of things.”
“Of casting people,” Vanessa says quickly. “That’s what he meant. Again, to reiterate, we’re in a strictly professional relationship.”
“Okay.” Bill grabs a pen off the table and tucks it in his briefcase. I recognize it as one of Lana’s custom ordered Montblanc ballpoints with the rose gold accents, but she has plenty. It’s time to get Bill out of here.
“Thank you for your time, Bill.” I stand up and offer a handshake. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Right, yes, thank you.” He shakes my hand, his grip limp and clammy. “I appreciate the opportunity.”
“Let me walk you out.” Vanessa stands and gives me such a wide berth you’d think I have leprosy. “It can be tricky to find your way around all these corridors.”
Their voices fade down the hall, and I hear Vanessa telling him we have half-a-dozen candidates left to interview. Not entirely true, but maybe it’ll soften the sting when he doesn’t get the job.
A few minutes pass, and I hear the chime of the door opening and closing. Then footsteps tapping closer as she returns to the conference room. I swear my heart stops as Vanessa floats back into the room, looking like a dream in a slim black skirt and silky purple shirt that brings out the color in her eyes.
“Well, that was….enlightening.” She sits down about as far from me as she can get and still be at the same table. “What did you think?”
“I think Bill might need therapy.” I press my palms against the table, then catch myself imagining Vanessa spread out on it with her skirt hiked around her hips. I fold my hands in my lap instead. “Seriously though, not the right fit.”
“Agreed. We still have three more on the list, right?”
“Right. You think we should call them up and pre-screen to make sure they’ve never had sex on company property?”
She laughs, though from the way her cheeks just pinkened, I’m not sure she’s thinking about Bill. “Would that really be an issue if he were the right candidate?”
I consider that for a moment. “Probably not. I’d guess most people have done something like that at one time or another.”
She studies me for a moment, throat moving as she swallows. “I suppose so.”
“It’s more about having the poor judgment to share that in an interview.”
“Exactly. The last thing we need is a banker with bad judgment.” She looks down at the table again, and I wonder if she’s thinking what I’m thinking. That this table looks very sturdy. What would it be like to tip her back against the glossy surface and—
“Have you?”
I blink at her. “Have I what?”
A full-on flood of color rushes her cheeks. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. I got caught up in the oversharing.”
“Have I what, Vanessa?” I smile to let her know I’m not pissed. “Had sex at work?”
“Sorry, just being nosy.” She shakes her head. “It’s definitely not my business.”
“No, but I’ll answer if you want.”
I’m baiting her, I know. There’s a sick little part of me that wants her to be curious. That wants her to see me as a sexual person and not just the guy in charge of the