4. Lorelei

4

LORELEI

" L orelei, this is Martin, our finance manager," Rebecca says as we approach a man, who's probably in his fifties, standing at the entrance to a meeting room.

Attempting to swallow down my apprehension, I hold my head high and reach my hand out to shake his.

"Hello, nice to meet you." Thankfully, my voice is firm and steady. The complete opposite of how I'm feeling.

From the second the Callahan Enterprises building came into view from the Uber that I splurged on, I've been a nervous wreck. To the point that I almost talked myself out of stepping through the entrance.

I'm never going to live it down if I fuck this up.

Kingston already knows, and no doubt Kian will be right behind him.

How am I going to be able to face them if I get rejected from their company?

I already feel small when I'm around them. I can't even imagine how I'd feel after that.

"Thank you so much for coming in at such late notice," Martin says politely as he gestures for me to step into the room first.

"No problem. Thank you for inviting me in."

"Well, I didn't have much choice after seeing your resume."

Heat rushes up my neck as I smile awkwardly at him.

I've no idea what was on my resume. I can only imagine what my best friend thought would be a good idea to fill it with.

"Please, take a seat," he says while Rebecca makes sure I have a glass of water. "We're going to start by talking through the role, if that's okay?"

"Of course."

"Fantastic," he says, shuffling some papers around as Rebecca grabs a tablet and sits to the side of him, ready to take notes.

The second he begins talking, his passion for his role and the company shines through. And it's infectious.

I find myself happily being pulled along for the ride.

Being here, inside this building, with the fancy darkened glass walls, flashy décor and polished furniture, feels right in a way I could before have only imagined.

I've been to Warner Group to meet Tate time and time again, and while those offices are nice, this is on a whole other level.

I love it. Which means it's only going to sting that much more when I discover that this is probably going to be my only visit.

At least I got the chance to find out what it's like. That's something, I guess.

All too soon, Martin focuses his attention on me and begins asking all the usual questions about my previous role and what I believe my strengths and weaknesses to be.

Everything is going well. I think I might have even impressed him with a couple of my answers.

But, as expected, it all comes crashing down around my feet with one sudden knock on the door.

With the windows darkened, it's impossible to see who's on the other side when the strong and confident knock rips through the air, cutting me off mid-sentence.

Both Rebecca and Martin's eyes shoot to the door, openly irritated about the interruption.

But I don't look.

I don't need to.

I already know who it is.

My fingers curl around the edges of the chair I'm sitting in as my already increased heart rate races to dangerous levels.

Please be wrong. Please be wrong , I silently chant.

But as per usual, I'm not that lucky.

The second the door opens, a ripple of anticipation goes through the room that's quickly followed by his expensive scent.

Martin doesn't waver at the sight of his boss standing in the doorway, interrupting the interview he's conducting.

"Kian, how can we help you?" he asks, holding his eyes as the man in question moves farther into the room and lets the door close behind him.

"My apologies for intruding," he says, his deep, rich voice flowing around me like velvet.

Do not react. Do not react.

"Rebecca, you're needed upstairs." Instantly, she hops to her feet, clutching her tablet to her chest. "I'll take over, make sure Martin here makes the right decision about his future assistant."

Before I have a chance to register what he just said, Rebecca is gone and Kian is lowering his suited body into her seat.

He pops open the button on his jacket before getting comfortable.

I can't see because of the table separating us, but I just know that his pants stretch over his thick thighs in a way that should be illegal. It's one of many things I remember from our brief interaction at Tate and King's wedding.

"So, Miss Tempest," he says, commanding my attention without any effort.

Despite knowing better, my gaze immediately lifts to his.

I suck in a sharp gasp the second our eyes connect. My hazel to his green.

Amusement and wicked intent flicker in his, and my stomach knots.

I'm about to pay for that stunt I played at the wedding.

"Can you explain to us why you were able to attend an interview here at such short notice? You are currently employed, correct?"

My eyes narrow.

Fucking asshole.

"No, Mr Callahan. My employment recently came to an end."

"Ah, I see," he muses, relaxing back in his seat and rubbing his chin.

He already knows the truth.

"I haven't been happy there for some time. I always felt underappreciated for what I did."

"Okay, but surely that's not the reason you were fired, was it, Miss Tempest?"

"It's Lorelei," I correct. I hate being called the same name as my mother. It's one of the biggest reminders of where I come from. Of all the reasons I don't fit in here. "And no, that wasn't the reason. There was a misunderstanding, which led to my employment being terminated."

I slam my lips shut, refusing to say any more.

That's not enough for Kian, though.

His eyes hold mine firmly, silently demanding that I continue talking, that I effectively tank my own interview.

Was turning him down really that much of a crime?

I guess it's true what they say; no woman dares to turn down a Callahan.

He smirks. "Please could you elaborate on the details of that... misunderstanding ?"

I don't say anything. Instead, I keep my lips closed and bite down on the inside of them, forcing myself to remain silent.

"I understand it's uncomfortable, Miss Tempest," he explains, still refusing to use my name as I requested, "but I'm sure you can comprehend that we need to know the details if we're going to consider the possibility of employing you."

Acid swirls in my stomach.

He might already know the truth, but that doesn't make having to say the words out loud any easier.

Our stand-off continues, the atmosphere in the room growing thicker and thicker as Martin continues to look between us.

Knowing that I need to put an end to this charade so I can leave and pretend it never happened, I release my lips and let the truth spill free.

"He accused me of stealing, which is absurd. All I've ever done is work my ass off for him and the company. Was it my perfect job? No. But that didn't matter to me. I pride myself on doing the best I can in any situation.And as for the accusation…" I shake my head, a bitter laugh tumbling free. "He really needs to think again, because that man doesn't have anything worth stealing.

"I earn my money. I work hard for what I have. I expect absolutely nothing to be handed to me on a platter.Everything I have, everything I have achieved, I have fought for. My life. My education. My career.Every. Single. Thing.

"If he doesn't see my value, then fine.I have a better future ahead of me than that place and his petty bullshit."

With my heart slamming wildly against my chest, I push to my feet and focus my attention on Martin. His eyes are wide and his lips are parted in shock from my little tirade. For a second, I think he's going to say something, but then he just swallows, leaving nothing but silence and my previous words hanging in the air between us.

"Thank you so much for inviting me in, and for your time today. It has been an honor to even be considered for this role. I'll see myself out."

I nod at Martin in an attempt to convey just how truthful those words are, and then I spin on my heels and march toward the door without giving Kian another moment of my time.

Watch me walk away for a second time, you conceited asshole…

And with that, I slip out of the room, ensure the door is firmly closed behind me, and then bolt toward the elevator as if the devil is snapping at my heels.

Stepping inside the fancy mirrored elevator alone doesn't help my unease. I stand right in the center and keep my eyes locked on the descending numbers, praying that it'll move faster. But it doesn't, in fact, I'm pretty sure it's slower than any I've ever experienced before. By the time it hits the ground floor, I'm sweating and my nerves are shot.

And it only gets worse when the doors begin to slide open and a thought hits me upside the head.

What if he's followed me?

What if he's waiting for me?

With my stomach in knots, I keep my head held high as I step out and scan the virtually empty reception.

Two perfectly dressed staff members sit behind a humongous desk in the center of the vast space, and two doormen guard the entrance.

All four of them look up at me the second my shoes click on the shiny tiled floor.

Their attention puts me even more on edge and makes my skin prickle. But there's also relief, because he isn't here.

Silently, I chastise myself for thinking he'd have even considered following me as an option.

Men like Kian Callahan don't chase anyone. Especially women.

Without giving any of them my full attention, or a chance to talk to me, I walk straight out of the building, thanking the doorman who makes the process as easy as possible.

Without stopping, I continue down the block and then around the corner so the Callahan Enterprises building is no longer in sight. And it's not until I step into a deep doorway that I finally release the breath I was holding and sag back against the wall.

"Fuck," I breathe.

I fucking told Tate it was a bad idea.

It's why I never applied.

I just never expected…

As if she knows I've just left, my watch begins vibrating.

Digging my cell from my purse, I debate ignoring her. But it's pointless; she's like a dog with a bone when she wants something.

"How'd it go?" she asks the second the line connects.

"About as disastrous as I predicted. You never should have applied for me, Tate."

"It can't have been that bad," she argues.

I can't help but laugh.

"Kian decided to interrupt," I explain, "and thought it was highly amusing to dive into all the details about why I'm currently unemployed."

"He what?" she shrieks.

"It was going really well before that," I reluctantly confess. "It all felt and sounded…"

"Perfect?" she finishes for me when I trail off.

"Yes," I snap, hating that she's right.

Everything about that place is perfect, from the décor to the people inside. I want to be a part of it all so badly.

But I can't. Now for even more reasons than before.

"I'm going to kick his ass into next year when I see him."

"Just leave it, T."

"No. I won't. You deserve this job, Lor. It was practically made for you, and the timing couldn't be any more perfect."

"Stop, please?" I beg, unable to listen to it anymore.

"What are you doing tonight?"

Going home and crying myself to sleep…

"Might see if Cory is free for a drink. I've ignored his calls all week," I confess with a wince.

"He's got a date," Tate informs me, ruining my plans.

"Come to ours for a drink."

"Tate," I warn.

"Come on. Griz misses you."

"That's a low blow," I mutter.

"What? She does. King's working late, and I'll be lonely."

"You'd better not be pouting right now, Mrs. Callahan."

"Then maybe you should agree and stop me."

I let out a huff. "Fine. But you're ordering Chinese from that place you found, and the alcohol better be strong."

"That's more like it. You can have my share of the alcohol," she offers. "You need me to send a car?"

"No, I'll get the bus."

"Shut up, Lor. Where are you?"

"Around the corner from Callahan. I'll?—"

"Lewis is already there. Stay where you are, he'll bring you to me."

"Tate—"

"Stop arguing, Lorelei Tempest," she snaps teasingly. "For once will you just do as you're told?"

"Yes, boss."

"Good. See you soon. Love you, bye."

She must immediately get on the phone to Lewis, her and Kingston's driver, because not two minutes later a sleek black town car appears at the end of the street before slowing to a stop in front of me.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lori," Lewis says with a wide, genuine smile as he climbs from the driver's seat.

"It's okay, I've got it," I say in a rush, pulling the back door open myself.

Having a driver is strange enough; having him open the door for me, is more than I can handle.

"Let's go find the other troublemaker then, shall we?" he teases before taking off.