Talking Dirty with the CEO - By Jackie Ashenden Page 0,33
eyes level with Christie’s. “Two words. Bull. Shit.”
Before Christie could reply, Ben came out of his office. “Hey, Chris.” He dropped a sheaf of papers on Marisa’s desk. “Sorry, Marisa, just another couple of letters.” Ignoring Marisa’s audible groan, he turned to Christie. “Got that interview for me yet?”
As it happened, she had.
The morning she’d left Joseph’s place, she’d arrived home to find an e-mail from him with an attached bio that seemed to cover all Ben’s questions. Plus he’d told her that anything the bio didn’t answer, she could e-mail him with.
The bio had made for fascinating reading. She’d known all about how his business had grown but not that he’d been a high school dropout. Or that he’d had to take a number of lowly paid, menial jobs in order to survive when Ashton Tech had been in its infancy.
From there though, his small business had expanded into a major company that always seemed to be at the forefront of technology thanks to a heavily funded research-and-development arm, and a flair for design that was second to none.
Pretty good for a guy with no qualifications to speak of.
No, not pretty good. It was brilliant. He was brilliant.
She’d found she had a hundred other questions for him, none of which were appropriate for the interview. But one night was one night, no matter how fascinating she found his story.
Unable to resist the urge to contact him, she’d ended up e-mailing him a couple of silly questions, which he’d responded to more or less instantly. He’d even signed them Love Machine, which had given her a tiny thrill.
The result was an interview that Christie was sure no one had been able to get from the mysterious Joseph Ashton before. Ben was going to love it.
“Should be in your in-box,” Christie said, unable to keep the note of pride from her voice.
And she felt even prouder when Ben rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Excellent. I’ll go check it now.”
Twenty minutes later, Ben called her into his office, grinning like a maniac.
“This,” he said, gesturing to his computer screen, “is brilliant.”
“You mean the interview?” Christie bit her lip to stop from smiling.
“Yes, of course the interview. How did you get him to open up like that?”
She shrugged, as if encouraging reclusive tech CEOs to open up was something she did all the time. “Oh, it’s all part of my natural charm, I guess.”
“However you did it, well done, Chris,” Ben said, his gaze full of new respect. “Well done.”
The good feelings lasted for a couple of days, buoyed by Ben’s praise of her interview. But as the week went on and normality reasserted itself, they began to dissipate, leaving her restless and grumpy, as if she was missing something.
On Friday, even more grumpy and depressed, Christie opened her e-mail to find a message from Joseph.
Her heart gave a funny jump as she saw his name. She’d sent him a copy of her article a couple of days before as a courtesy gesture, but hadn’t expected a response.
But you wanted one.
No. She didn’t. Not at all. Why would she? She’d had one night with him and that’s all she needed. She didn’t care if she didn’t hear from him again, right?
And yet as she hit open on his e-mail, she found her finger trembling.
Hey Naughtygirl, the article was great. I’m impressed. You write extremely well, you know that? But of course you know that. Just like there are other things you can also do extremely well. But I’m not putting those in an e-mail.
BTW, if you ever want a hands-on tech job (and no, not that kind of job), come see me. There’s a position in our research department that I think you’d enjoy.
Call me.
Love Machine
He liked it. And she hadn’t known how much she’d hoped he would like it until now.
Christie reached for the bottle of Coke on her desk and took a swallow, moistening her dry mouth. For a brief moment she hovered over the reply button, an urge to send him something back, maintain that contact, filling her.
Then again, what was the point? She didn’t want a relationship. He’d been a great ego boost but that was as far as it went. They had nothing in common but chemistry and stereos. Yeah, he’d already told her he wasn’t into gaming, and although he headed a major technology company he so didn’t look like the type of guy who’d enjoy tinkering with motherboards and circuits. Hands-on tech job or no.
Oh