12. Jake: So This is the So-Called Cousin

Chapter twelve

Jake – So This is the So-Called Cousin

I did it again. Why do I act like such a jerk? My mom will be so disappointed in me if she ever catches a whiff of this. She raised me better than this. And I have definitely not seen my father treating women like that. The comment about her coming in here to sell drinks was uncalled for, and I feel bad about it. I should have apologized, but I comforted myself with the fact that she had been the one to judge me at our first meeting. But that had only made me feel better for a minute back there.

I close my eyes, her teary eyes haunting me. I’ve never witnessed that much anger and dislike directed at me, more so when the other party has no fault. I don’t know why she brings out that side of me, the worst side of me, that I never even knew existed .

I have never disrespected women, not even when Sophia had made me swear off them for life. I love my mother and my little sister, and my dad has raised me to be a protector of women.

She came here for the interview. I’m not stupid, she is the ‘cousin’ Britt was talking about. No wonder she’s been acting suspicious, and Ryan has been acting super weird. I wonder how they managed to convince her to attend the interview, but judging from Aurora’s comments, she thinks I just work here.

Well, suck it up, Princess, I’ll be interviewing you today. I imagine the shock, surprise, and finally the anger that will flash through her beautiful green eyes when she realizes she’ll be working for me. I smile at the thought, anticipation flooding me. Getting her angry is easy, considering she absolutely dislikes me already, and I realize I’m beginning to like getting her angry.

Her eyes express the million ways she’d love to murder me. I’ll remove the silver plate stapled to my door that has my name on it. Wouldn’t want her to turn back before I even have the chance to get her riled up.

I hadn’t meant to spew the rude statement in the elevator. I’d been genuinely curious to know why she was at my company, momentarily forgetting about Brittney’s supposed cousin.

But she had schooled her features into a blank face and spared me not so much as a glance, acting as if I didn’t exist. For some reason, that really irked me, and I poked at her immaturely, insulting her in the process. It doesn’t matter how she had judged me at our first meeting, I shouldn’t have said what I said.

Oh man, I’m right back at it. What is there about her that makes me someone I’m not?

Sighing, I decide I’ll apologize for what I said earlier. I’ll be the bigger person here.

I look at my desk and see the list of candidates for the interview. She’s the last of six. Aurora Blaze, the name suits her perfectly well, I think, remembering her blazing eyes, expressing more thoughts than she knows she does.

I call the secretary, asking her to let the first candidate in.

The interviews pass by in a blur of resumé reviews and questioning. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have conducted this interview myself. I kind of dislike sitting through interviews. But since the chosen candidate will be working directly for me, it makes more sense to choose the candidate myself, then let HR finish the busy work. And so far, not a single candidate has intrigued me.

I blink blearily, checking the time on my wristwatch. It’s been over an hour since the interviews began. Putting back my focus on the current candidate, I realize he is still droning on about buzzwords and industry jargon, showing off his knowledge about the construction industry.

I massage my temples and try my best to look interested in what he has to say. Glancing at the list, I realize he is the next to last person, leaving only one person on the list: Aurora.

I perk up at the realization, but refuse to dwell on the reason why.

“I hope I will get to work in this prestigious company of yours, Mr. Reynolds. I look forward to receiving an acceptance mail. Have a good day sir,” he finishes, flashing his teeth all the while .

Seriously, he should be the model for a mouthwash company or something. Not trying to work in a construction company.

Any moment, Aurora will be entering for her interview. I sit up straighter and ensure my desk is arranged, even though I haven’t scattered it to begin with. And again, I refuse to dwell on the reason why I did that. Trying my best to school my features into a professional one, I wait for her entry.

As if summoned by my thoughts, she enters cautiously, as if entering a lion’s den. Is the spitfire nervous? This should be good, I grin inwardly. She takes her sweet time shutting the office door as if prepping herself before starting her interview. Not wanting to give her enough time to do that, I decide to make myself known, literally. Time to ruffle the princess’s feathers.

“Good morning, Miss. Blaze. How’re you doing this fine morning?” I say, acting as professional as I can, but I can’t stop the grin from framing my lips as I notice her freeze.

She turns very slowly as if willing me to have disappeared before she fully faces me. She finally looks towards me and I realize her eyes are shut tightly, muttering some things under her breath.

I love how surprised she is. Temporarily taking down the silver-plated plaque that had my name on the door was a very good idea. I reckon she would never have stepped foot into my office for the interview if she had known that I’m the CEO.

She opens her tight-shut eyes, and I can literally see the fire spill out.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, the words flying out like shards of glass. I point to the glass plate which has my name inscribed on it in cursive black letters: ‘JACOB L. REYNOLDS CEO, Precision Construct.’

She tenses, as if all hope about the situation being a nightmare has evaporated. She clenches her bag tightly and turns to leave. “This is a terrible misunderstanding. I am under the misconception that the CEO is another person.”

She must really dislike me to have decided to give up the interview her friends had tricked her into. Grasping for something to say, anything to say to stop her, I blurt the first thing that pops into my mouth.

“So, you’re just going to disappoint your friends who got you the interview?” I ask, and I mentally face-palm myself, seeing the fire in her eyes flare more than I’d ever seen.

That wasn’t what I had in mind when I opened my mouth to stop her.

“And why are you trying to stop me when we have such a mutual dislike towards one another?” she retorts.

I slam the brakes on that thought, satisfying myself with the fact that getting Aurora riled up is beginning to become a favorite pastime of mine.

“You don’t know anything about me, or my friends. Why don’t you just mind your business and carry on with your CEO duties?” she spits at me.

And at the mention of “friends” her eyes glint with murderous intent, and I am glad that such ire isn’t directed at me. Turning once more, she opens the door to leave my office.

“Look, Britt called in a favor on your behalf, and so did Ryan. I would really love to get my part of the deal done,” I say, clearing my throat, not wanting to sound as if I am actually interested in interviewing her.

I should be sending her on her merry way. Well, her angry way. Nothing will change her mind, so I do the next best thing: push her buttons.

“Are you sure you’re not going through with the interview because I’m the CEO, or you’re just going to use that as an excuse to not go on with the interview?” She goes rigid at that. Yup! It worked.

Shutting the door, she marches angrily to the visitor’s chair opposite my desk, flings the red folder containing her files on my table, and sits without asking. Crossing her legs, she steeples her hands on her chin, leveling me with a professional look—well, not counting the undisguised dislike in her eyes.

Sitting there, I realize how beautiful she really is. She looked beautiful back at the bar, but under the natural light of day, I realize that the colored lights had done no justice to her beauty.

I can now tell the true color of her hair—a rich chestnut shade that really contrasts with her porcelain skin. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows are pulled tightly in anger, and her beautiful, full, bow-shaped lips are downturned into a frown. She really is beautiful. Too bad the same can’t be said about her character. You don’t go around leveling judgmental gazes at people on your first meeting. Yikes, there I go again . Am I thinking of her or of myself?

“Are we starting this interview or what, Mr. Jacob Reynolds?” The last words spewing out of her like shards of ice.

My name coming from her sounded weird. The good kind of weird. All my life, I’ve been Jake. To friends, colleagues, and distant family members. Only my mom calls me Jacob, especially when I’ve done something to displease her, or as a warning.

Speaking of which, her deadline is this Saturday, and I have no plan whatsoever. I have to present a girl she will actually like or risk her ire for lying about my imaginary girlfriend. Bella will be present, and hurting her feelings is the last thing I want to do

Staring at Aurora’s face, an insane plan begins to take root in my mind. A very insane plan. Judging from what I’ve garnered about Aurora so far, she’ll definitely not hold back from giving me a black eye this time, as I’ve noticed her ready to do. I sigh, gesturing for her to pass over her files, suddenly not in the mood to rile her up anymore.

Opening my mouth to ask her about her experiences, I shock us both by what comes blurting out. My eyes widen in surprise, and Aurora’s green ones are a pool of surprise and confusion. “What did you say?” she asks, disbelief coloring her voice, her eyes still round in shock and confusion.

I might as well lie in the grave I dug for myself. My brain must have detached itself from my vocal cords. I’ve popped the question. I might as well go with the flow. Who knows, I might be able to convince her or end up sleeping with an eye open for the rest of my life. The latter is seemingly more possible than the former.

I clear my throat and adjust my collar, the air suddenly stifling hot. I hear myself, in a voice I can hardly identify as mine, again ask the question I had foolishly blurted out.

“I asked if you would like to be my girlfriend,” I say, gauging her reaction, rolling my lips inside my mouth - a nervous habit of mine .

She has her mouth opened in a small “o” shape, looking absolutely adorable. Her eyes have a strange light in them, and I feel the fury coming any moment. She had the same light shining in her very expressive eyes at the bar, and I feel absolutely irritated with myself. Alongside that is a sinking feeling of disappointment.

Have I been seriously hoping for a better reaction? I’d understand if she thought I was loony for asking such questions, but not the judgment. I feel anger tinge the hope I didn’t even know was budding in my mind. Not the hope that she’d agree to be my girlfriend— I’d be wary if she had agreed immediately. It was an involuntary feeling of hope that she was not as bad as I had thought.

What was I thinking, asking Aurora for help? A mistake, albeit, but I do not like the look in her eyes one bit.

“Do not flatter yourself, Princess. Of course, I mean a fake girlfriend.” Laying emphasis on the ‘fake,’ I continue. “And it’ll be just for three months,” I say. “Agree to my condition, and you’re hired,” I add, dousing a burning house with gasoline.

For a moment, I see disappointment flash through her eyes, before that light goes out completely. A cold look shines on her face as it turns completely red. Her deep teal-green eyes go up in flames, flashing like lightning.

The change has me shuddering on the inside, but I just cannot seem to change my demeanor on the outside. I remain the aloof jerk I’ve been playing and I have no idea why. This is really not me.