Who was I to argue with Mother Nature? She flipped Tristan Grant and me, Joanna Prime, into an elevator moments after I’d humiliated myself in front of him. He followed on my heels as I ran from an interview at his company, Performance Control Corporation, or PCC. The job would have more than paid the rent on my trendy condo in Mission Beach. Even my upcoming graduation fees from San Diego State University strained my budget to the point where Noodle Ramen dinners looked imminent.
Who cared that my degree in psychology would take a hit, at least for a while? Perhaps I could still salvage that career, with my 3.80 GPA, by earning enough to go to grad school. I needed some real experience as a psychiatric aide before starting my career as a therapist. Entering data about clients’ psychological disorders at PCC might have helped my career. At least that's how I deceived myself into accepting the interview at his company.
I’d paid so much attention to studying the job description that I didn't factor in the effect that a certain gorgeous and sexy boss would work on me. Talk about being unprepared! Call it a hormone rush or lust, my behavior felt downright embarrassing. Two minutes into the spiel I knew — and so did Tristan — that financial concerns were my bottom line. From there on, things went downhill. My fumbled manner of explaining any past experience and qualifications only dramatized the mistake I’d made in the first place.
I’d actually done my homework on the boss, too. Mr. Grant and his company were well known in local business circles, and on the rise. He'd even been featured in the social media as a young, wealthy and eligible millionaire. Strangely enough, I’d just drooled over Tristan’s looks and stuttered as I struggled to answer his most basic questions.
Life, Mother Nature or just blind luck sometimes plays with us. This time it changed my life. The interview made me look like a complete idiot. Nonetheless, Mr. Alpha Male Grant zoned in on me like a thermonuclear missile. Maybe he sensed my lack of experience and innocence. While I wished to burrow under the tightly woven carpet, he tempted me with other options at PCC. Then the earthquake threw us together for hours. It was more than just the 7.0 temblor that sent shocks into both of us in the elevator. I felt the sparks - and apparently so did he - from the intense and eager expression on his face.
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