“I told you, you’ll keep crawling back to me,” he chuckled.
I forced my expression into something calm, something professional. “If I’d known,” I said evenly, “I’d have brought disinfectant.”
Ethan chuckled, the sound low and infuriating. “Still feisty, I see. This is going to be fun.”
I gripped my portfolio tighter. “I’m here for a professional interview, Mr. Drake. Not a reunion.”
“Professional,” he repeated, as if the word amused him. He gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Take a seat, Winters. Let’s see how desperate you are to work for me.”
The sleek mahogany desk between us felt like more than just a piece of furniture. It was a battleground. Ethan Drake leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk as his sharp gray eyes bore into mine. He didn’t bother to hide his amusement, like I was a puzzle he was already halfway through solving.
“So,” he began, his voice laced with mockery, “I wasn’t aware you were in the market for a job at my company.”
I gripped my portfolio tightly, forcing my shoulders back. I couldn’t afford to show weakness—not here, not now. “I wasn’t aware you ran Elite Enterprises,” I replied, keeping my tone even. “Had I known, I might have reconsidered.”
His smirk widened, the corners of his mouth curling with satisfaction. “Reconsidered?” he echoed, tilting his head slightly. “I thought you’d be thrilled to see a familiar face.”
I bit back the sharp retort bubbling on my tongue. There was no way I was going to let him drag me into his little game. “Let’s keep this professional, Mr. Drake,” I said, keeping my voice clipped and precise. “I’m here for an interview, not a trip down memory lane.”
“You keep saying that,” Ethan repeated, leaning back in his chair as if savoring the word. He gestured lazily to the portfolio in my lap. “All right, Maeve. Impress me. Why should I hire you?”
The directness of the question threw me off balance for half a second, but I recovered quickly. Taking a deep breath, I opened the portfolio and pulled out my carefully curated resume. “I’m highly organized, detail-oriented, and efficient,” I began, my voice steady. “During my internship at Blackwood Consulting, I—”
“Internship,” Ethan interrupted, his tone dry and dismissive. “Cute.”
I felt my jaw tighten, but I refused to let him get under my skin. “That ‘cute’ internship,” I said sharply, locking eyes with him, “saved the company 15% in operational costs. I identified inefficiencies in their procurement process, proposed a solution, and implemented it under budget. Shall I continue?”
Ethan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he was trying to suppress a genuine smile. “Go on,” he said, his tone softer now but still tinged with amusement.
I launched into my accomplishments, outlining my experience in project management, team coordination, and my ability to thrive under pressure. I’d rehearsed this a dozen times, but Ethan was relentless. He interrupted frequently, throwing out cutting remarks designed to throw me off course.
“Sure, you can organize,” he said at one point, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “But can you handle real pressure? This job isn’t just about spreadsheets and PowerPoints, Maeve. It’s about surviving the fire. Do you think you can do that?”
I squared my shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. “I survived high school with you,” I replied, my voice steady. “This should be easy.”
For the briefest moment, his smirk faltered. Something flickered in his expression—surprise? Amusement? I couldn’t tell. But just as quickly, it vanished. He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the desk as he studied me in silence.
“Touche,” he said finally, his voice quieter now but no less condescending. “You talk a good game. But the real question is… can you back it up?”
I bristled at the challenge in his tone, but I kept my expression calm. “You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” I replied, refusing to let him rattle me.
Ethan’s grin widened, his gray eyes gleaming with something between admiration and mischief. “You’ve got guts,” he admitted. “I’ll give you that.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing one ankle over his knee like he’d already made up his mind. “You’re hired,” he said, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. “But don’t get comfortable, Winters. The real fun starts now.”
I rose from my chair, clutching my portfolio tightly, my heart pounding. I couldn’t tell if I’d just won a battle or walked straight into a trap. One thing was certain: working for Ethan Drake was going to be anything but easy.
I was halfway to the door when his voice stopped me in my tracks. “Oh, and Maeve?”
I turned, my pulse quickening. “Yes?”
“Wear something cute on your first day,” he said, his smirk as infuriating as ever.
I clenched my jaw, biting back the snarky reply that danced on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I nodded once, pushed the door open, and left, the sound of his low chuckle following me into the hallway.