Audacity: Chapter 6

If this was a usual type of interview, I’d be berating myself for objectifying my interviewee quite so shamelessly. As it is, I allow myself to be just a little transfixed by the assured, beautiful young woman sitting in front of me.

I draw the line at pulling up that provocative image of her naked and holding herself open from my spank bank, though. That’s a bridge I absolutely will not cross this morning.

Even so, it’s the oddest thing to know that she’s essentially interviewing to fuck me as well as to work for me. It feels equal parts miraculous and profoundly wrong that a princely sum of money is all that’s required for me to get intimate with her.

Because there is no denying she’s a prize of the greatest magnitude, but it’s my bank balance, rather than my worth as a man, that will ultimately dictate my success here.

I really must concentrate, because I am in dire need of a fine strategic brain to assist me with the multitude of responsibilities I face, and while the team I inherited is perfectly fine (the ancient Gladys aside), I’m yet to make a senior hire since I took over.

Putting the right team around me is vital to the success of this legacy I’m stewarding, and everything coming out of Athena’s mouth tells me she could do this job standing on her head. She’d preempt everything I need; I can just tell. She’d nail her allocated workload, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she jumped into a whole host of extra projects just for the thrill of it.

Still. It’s surprisingly hard to concentrate, surprisingly difficult to separate my search for the perfect executive assistant with the strictly off-limits part of this interview: the knowledge that I’m essentially sizing someone up to be my main fuck buddy for the foreseeable future.

Athena’s beauty, you see, is the kind that’s impossible to ignore. It’s everything her portfolio promised and more, because static images can never compete with the perfection of features like these when they’re in motion.

It’s not just the size of her big, thickly lashed hazel eyes that’s captivating but the way they shine when she summarises a particularly taxing analysis she undertook recently on hydrogen fuel cells.

It’s not just the lustrousness of her long, thick auburn hair, but the way she keeps flicking it impatiently over her shoulder as if it’s cramping her style.

It’s not just the lushness of her body, swathed in enough expensive wool to be perfectly professional, but the expressive grace with which she uses her hands to hammer her points home.

It’s not just the pink rosebud mouth, which was appealing enough in the photos but now undulates in a way far more sensuous than her businesslike delivery probably intends.

That’s the thing. This woman is not flirting in the slightest. She’s solely in business mode, and it’s compelling. It’s compelling partly because of her staggering looks, which feels unfair to her because her allure in this moment is so much more than that.

She’s not manic—not in the least bit. She’s far too assured for that, too self-controlled. But there’s an energy there, a drive that’s impossible to miss. She’s dynamic in a way that’s seriously impressive. The extensive prep she’s done for our interview shows, and her enthusiasm is undeniably infectious. In this moment, she’s every inch the star MBA student from one of Europe’s best schools, and I know she’s exactly what this fucking place needs.

That her face and her voice and her body are one bewitching siren’s call should be beside the point.

Should be.

But she’s not a stereotypical MBA student, and this is not a stereotypical position, and those looks of hers aren’t incidental. They’re integral to this pitch she’s making to me that she’s worth a salary tens of times higher than this position would otherwise warrant.

None of this is to judge her. Lord, no. After all, she’s playing to her strengths in spectacular style. She’s the real deal, the fantasy that’s equally intoxicating to the businessman in me who’s drowning professionally and to the flesh-and-blood man.

One thing has quickly become clear. This role will morph into something far beyond its basic requirements if Athena takes it on. I may not be experienced in business, but I am experienced in people. If an individual as promising as her shows up, I’m going to maximise her potential.

In the day job, that is.

I’ve been sitting perfectly still, fingers interlaced over my stomach, listening to her speak for a couple of minutes. Listening is another area of expertise I honed during my previous career, but rarely is it as pleasurable as this. Rarely in my parish prayer meetings or in the confessional was I this avid.

‘It’s clear you’re incredibly capable,’ I say now, ‘and that you like to get your teeth into things. There’ll be a lot of that here. We’re very much still in a transition phase, and I’m finding myself so busy fighting fires and improving on the most glaring problems that I haven’t had much of a chance to get on the front foot with what’s really the fun stuff—that is, building out how I want this estate to function for the next generation or two.’

‘I can definitely help with that.’

‘And I’d love your help. Once you had full access, how would you go about identifying which projects we should prioritise?’

I can see the machinations whirring in her head as she tilts it. ‘Well, the most efficient way would be if I drew up an initial, high level transition plan within a couple of weeks of starting. And then⁠—’

‘What would happen if we took a bit more time?’

She frowns. ‘In my experience, expediency is the preferred route, as long as it doesn’t risk sloppiness. And it sounds like we have no time to waste, if you’re still feeling like you’re on the back foot after almost a year in the role.’

I smile inwardly at her use of we and lean back in my chair, studying her intently.

‘I’m a very patient man, Athena. Expediency isn’t always the best route. Sometimes, taking it slowly is far more rewarding.’

I pause. Sink my teeth into my bottom lip.

She stares at me, pressing her palms to her thighs, the silence stretching between us like a taut, living thing.

‘After all,’ I say after a moment, ‘nothing is more important than getting the job done properly, is it? I don’t like a rushed job. I’m nothing if not… thorough.’

Our gazes are still locked, and I’d swear I’m responsible for that flush on her cheeks. If I’ve managed to fluster the professional with a couple of unfairly made innuendos, then I’m less rusty than I thought.

‘Absolutely.’ She shifts slightly in her chair before clearing her throat. ‘Yes, I—of course. I’d aim to be efficient while prioritising excellence and, um, rigour above everything else.’

I shoot her what I intend to be a smooth smile. ‘Excellent.’