Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (7 page)

             
I notice her acute awareness of me, and she's trying to concentrate on everything around the room, in an effort to avoid gazing at me. But unable to help herself, her eyes follow my movements back to my seat. My hands slowly rise and unbutton the only fastened button on my jacket, revealing my untied woven silk navy blue tie showcasing the sprinkle of chest hair through my unfastened two top buttons of my white shirt. She’s unable and unwilling to look away, and the intensity of my entire focus, and my gaze is upon her, searing her, making her squirm in her seat.

             
“I thought I applied for an entry level position at the Global Media Monitor, but I was sent here. They said my appointment is with Mr. Pella,” she says by the way of explanation.

             
“Yes, Miss Duncan. My company never hires employees off the street, or we don’t advertise for a position. I have recruiters in various companies. We let them know the qualifications we are looking for and the types of employees. My recruiters are always well aware of the kinds of talents my company is seeking. If they come across a candidate with a lot of potential my company is seeking in a new employee, they’re referred to me. They must have seen that potential in your resume for them to refer you. After all, this is an important position you are applying for.”

             
“What position am I interviewing for, uhm Mr. Pella? Uhm, Alex?” she says and I’m unable to help myself but close my eyes for a second with my name on her lush lips in pure bliss.

             
“If your interview goes well today, you will be given a one week trial to work as my personal assistant given your education in linguistics and business.”

             
“A one week trial? I thought if an interview goes well, I would get a job, and a probationary three month period would be in place like any other company,” she states puzzled.

             
“Generally that’s what other companies would do. But my company’s success is largely due to its unconventional trial interview week which displays a potential employee’s talents, strengths and weaknesses. It also gives the employee a feel of what they’re getting into, and the employer to see how they can handle certain business related situations where we couldn't possibly cover in a two or three hour interview,” I say sitting back in my seat, crossing my legs; my hands are steepled before me, pointing upward to my lips and her gaze is locked on them.

             
“What if a potential employee doesn’t want to go for the trial week? Why should they do it, if there are other jobs they could do in another company without the trial? It seems a little unfair,” she protests her eyes narrowing.

             
“Miss Duncan, if a potential employee wants a mundane job, getting themselves into ‘go to work, punch in, work eight hours, punch out, go home’ kind of work, they’re better off working for someone else; my company doesn’t need them. What I am seeking is talent! A talent who is willing to go and explore the world, explore the limits of their capabilities, intellect, their strengths, and improve their weaknesses,” I say leaning in. “I want an ambitious individual who has goals and plans for himself or herself, a free thinker, a problem solver, and someone who is willing to try what is out of convention. I demand that from 
all 
my employees, because I want people who are not satisfied with the bare minimum any job would offer. The rewards I offer are unparalleled because, my employees produce, create, and innovate ten times more than any other company’s employees, and in return they are rewarded for the work they do with benefits that do not exist in any of the other companies, but maybe only in a handful around the globe, and mine leads in that top spot,” I explain with an arrogant confidence and lean back watching her reaction.

“What kind of benefits?” she asks curiously, cocking her head
 to one side. Oh fuck! That’s what she used to do for me to give access to her long neck. For a minute, I remember myself holding her from behind, and trailing kisses on her neck, and her shoulders; unable to contain the passion and ripping the shirt off her to a very satisfactory result. I cross and uncross my legs with my growing erection.

             
“Oh, but Miss Duncan, I thought I was the one who is interviewing you,” I say with a wicked half smile, and she stares at my mouth unable to break the contact, then forces herself to look up at my eyes, blinking several times. She exhales a long breath slowly and discreetly.

             
“Now, I have your resume before me. You've studied linguistics, and business. You've interned at the Santa Barbara Chamber of Commerce, and interpreted for the refugees for the UN and UNICEF for the last two summers,” I read and look at her with a soft gaze, “Very impressive.”

             
“Yes, I have,” she confirms, and her sapphire blue eyes are staring at me unblinking as if I’m going to disappear.

             
“Who raised you Miss Duncan?” I ask changing the topic immediately, and she faults a moment in her response, then opens her mouth and then closes, then opens again. I cock one eyebrow at her waiting for her response.

             
“I thought they weren't supposed to ask personal questions on the interviews. Family and marital status, relationships...” she says slowly trailing off.

             
“What other companies do is none of my business, Miss Duncan. My company is different; we’re an unconventional company. You see, if an employee is ambitious, intelligent, and innovative, it’s worth knowing that employee’s personal relationships, because it impacts the work productivity. Therefore, if I’m interested in hiring a person, my company helps in various areas to secure that person’s longevity in this enterprise. For example, if they have a child, and are concerned for their care, they wouldn't be able to perform on the level of productivity that I require of them. But if I know what they need, then I can assist them in taking care of that particular problem, assuring that he or she performs to the best of their ability. That, and only that is the purpose for the personal questions. You see, no one would be here, seated in that chair if my company didn't see a great potential in that individual. Maximizing the productivity level in a company’s work environment is correlated to the employee’s level of happiness. It is merely a measurable assessment tool and application of behavioral science, ‘The Performance-Happiness Matrix’.”

“Oh...” she says disarmed.

              “So, Miss Duncan, who raised you? I’m just trying to see where your compassion for displaced people comes from.”

             
“I was raised by my uncle and my nanny since my birth,” she replies shrugging, dismissing a larger problem. Her eyes drift away from mine, looking nowhere in particular but her gaze is fixed in the Los Angeles skyline through the windows behind me.

             
“No parents then?”

             
“I never knew my dad. One night stand...apparently,” she says chagrined. “And my mom, well, she’s just joined my life only three years ago,” she adds in a sour tone. She shrugs, “not much to tell.” She wants to move on from the topic.

             
“Do you ride Miss Duncan?” I ask changing the topic.

             
“Ride what?”

             
“Horses, of course,” I say smiling brightly.

             
“What’s that got to do with the Pella Aerospace and Energy Enterprises Incorporated?”

             
“A lot, of course. You’re applying for a position as my assistant to liaise between me and my company’s international clients. A lot of time I travel around the globe and quite a bit of business is done doing some leisurely activity, and horseback riding is one of them. I would like my assistants to be able to ride a horse comfortably,” I explain. Her mouth is agape with a pleasant surprise.

             
“I love horses! I ride often! One of my biggest dreams is to own a horse ranch someday!” she gushes for the first time with enthusiasm, and I stifle a shuddering breath immediately. She did own a horse ranch, with the best horses the world has ever seen. I nod.

             
“Do you have a boyfriend, anyone you’re sleeping with, or are you attached to in anyway, Ellie?” I ask in such a casual tone that it takes her a few seconds to process my question. Once she understands what I just asked, she inhales sharply.

             
“How’s that related to this job?” she asks leaning in her eyebrows crossed. There’s a soft V formed in the middle of her brows reminding me when she would get mad at me.

             
I rise from my seat in a swift but graceful movement, and walk around my desk and finally stop two feet away from her and lean back on my desk, buttoning my jacket at her eye level, drawing her eyes to my crotch and waist. She swallows.

             
“Because, I’d need one hundred percent of your attention when you work for me,” I say in a firm but a seductive tone. “You would need to travel often to various countries with me. A lover who is taking your attention from your job would be...quite...distracting,” I say casually and distinctly as I cock my eyebrows. I can see her chest rising up and down in rapid succession as her jaw drops open. I ignore her reaction.

             
“So, do you have a lover, Ellie?” I ask in a low, seductive voice, my gaze is on her with heated intensity. I need to know if anyone is standing in my way. She was my wife! She promised to find me, yet that was a lifetime and more than two hundred years ago! I’m aching inside for her; she’s two feet away from me, yet I cannot touch her without her consent. The thought is harrowing, unbearable for my dark soul. Would she say, she has someone she fucks, someone she loves? I can deal with someone she fucks; hell, I can even deal if she’s fucked an entire town, but I couldn't bear it if she loves someone. I couldn't, I wouldn't separate her from someone she loves, even if it means the end of me, losing what little bit of humanity is left in me, if any. I love her too much to do that to her. But, I have to know! I hide my misery behind my well trained serene façade, and brace myself for her answer.

             
“Not presently...” she answers, swallowing, her eyes locked with mine unable to look away. Does that mean she’s had one? An ex? Jealousy rises in me. She presses her knees together, her feet pressing down on the floor in an effort to suppress some ache in her thighs. I don’t make much of her physical responses, because she’s my twin soul. Our bodies would always call to each other. What I want from her are body and soul for all eternity.

             
“I see,” I say, and unbutton my jacket and putting my left hand in my pants’ pocket slowly and casually, then I place my right hand on my leg, run it slowly up and down, then finally resting it at the same level as my crotch. Her eyes follow my every move. Her reaction brings up the ghost of a smile on my lips. She’s not immune to my charms.

             
“What does being your assistant entail, Mr. Pella?” she asks, pouting her full lips, with her arms crossed. How I’d love to kiss that mouth! She wants to communicate with me. Well, nothing is more articulate than a kiss!

             
“I’m a very shrewd businessman Ellie. I’m too tough, and intimidating to others. I need, a soft,” I say in a low voice, “gentle, but professional, intelligent, charming, beautiful, multilingual assistant who can disarm the top businessmen of the world. I need someone like you...” I say shrugging.

             
“Top businessmen of the world?” she asks her eyes wide, hyperventilating. “I’ve never dealt with top anything in my life! My mad business skills are limited to dealing with poor refugees, and abused children. Those guys will eat me alive!” she protests.

             
I lean down close to her face with a slight curve of my lips, and give her a slow smile. Angel, I would never allow anyone to intimidate you, ever! Protecting you is the mission of my existence. My face is only a foot away from hers. I can see the individual specs of her pale sapphire blues, her pupils dilated with worry. But my proximity is putting her into some overdrive.

             
“I am big, bad and ugly in my world,” I say slowly as my index finger is grazing over my lower lip, and without taking my gaze away from her eyes which I’ve longed to see for a very long time, I say, “No one would dare to be impolite to you let alone intimidate you in any way whatsoever. Are you up for a challenge, Ellie? Or do you wish to settle for the ordinary, mundane, and boring, just being stuck in Los Angeles?” I ask daring her, knowing she could never resist a challenge I presented to her in the past.

“I did want to get out of town, put some distance between...” she says, but stops herself. Put some distance between what? Or more importantly, who?

              “Yes, I am. One week trial you said? What if you decide that I’m not fit for the position after one week, or what if I decide that the job is not for me?” she says standing up her eyes level with mine. I cock my head to the side, and answer. “That’s why it’s called a trial. You try me, and I try you, see how we fit together as a closely working pair,” I say darkly. I know that she fits me in every shape and form ever conceived by men or angels.