Yardım
Foul Balls

Between Her Bosses

By: Sadie Black

The Complete Series_ Part One, Part Two & Part Three Box Set

(An Interracial BWWM Billionaire Romance Menage)

Chapter One: The Interview



Try not to run. Don’t run! Instead, I scurry as fast as I can manage, without running. I made it! Just. I can’t believe I nearly missed this perfect job opportunity because of a broken down bus.



The waiting room, or the lounge as the secretary at the front desk called it, is an artfully twisted mix of steel and glass. Whoever designed the space didn’t exactly have a flair for making people feel welcome with all the sharp edges and muted gray decor. Maybe that was the point, though. One chair is left, I smooth down my dress and hope I don’t look like a hot mess. The carpet feels like whip cream under my feet as I take the seat next to a striking blond man in a gray wool suit. My nerves float away when he flashes his adorable dimples at me, I know that smile. Why was I worried about how I look? I know that my cinnamon skin is smooth like honey and I have good hair, all loose curls framing my face.



Am I under dressed? The 8 guys and 3 other women look like they either have the money to buy fancy clothes or the ones they borrowed just look a hell of a lot more chic than mine. My navy knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse that I thought looked so sleek at home is drab compared to the room full of suits and blazers, even on the women.



Dimples is looking me over. Shuffling my paperwork, I try to keep my eyes on my resume, but they keep being pulled to the side by his magnetic sex appeal.



“I’m Chuck.” He does have a beautiful smile too, his pearly white teeth are surrounded by fleshy and kissable lips. But it’s the dimples in each of his cheeks that get me. Did I mention his eyes? Because his are stunning. A deep blue in the center, spreading out to a lighter blue on the edges. Like a drop of ink in a cup of water. I can’t look away.



“Kadeesha,” I smile back hoping I have a similar effect on him.



“Are you ready for this?”



“The interview? I hope so.” My resume is solid and my references all love me, for a ground floor data job, I’m not sure what else I could do to be ready.



“I heard the head of this company works in the building.”



“Oh yeah? You don’t see that much, do you? If I had that kind of money I’d outsource.” I forget that there’s anyone else in the room, the way he looks at me makes me feel like it’s just us in our own little world.



“Yeah, he’s supposed to be a real ball-buster, or ovary-buster I guess.” His laughter is so rich and full, it sounds like a song.



“That’s how you get to the top, right?”



“I read on the internet that he’s also a temperamental brat, really moody and hard to work with.”



“Oh yeah? I don’t know anything about that,” I admit, “I haven’t read up on him.”



“Well, it’s better that you didn’t,” his eyes glint, “you might not have shown up.”



“Nah, I’d be here. Most rich guys are dicks, right?” I’m getting too loud, just about everyone looks up from their phones at me. Reel it in, Kadeesha. “Still beats working my ass off at McDonald’s or retail.”



“There are other options between those two extremes.”



“Maybe for you, but a job like this doesn’t come along for everyone. Right now, those feel like my job options.” It’s the truth, I went to school and did the stupidest thing anyone going to college can do. I followed my heart. My stupid heart led me to a sociology degree with a minor in French. Real practical. “Anyway, I don’t know about you, but if I can get a steady paycheck and some medical benefits, I’m happy.”



I’m trying so hard to keep my eyes on his, but they keep sliding all over his body like a stick of butter on a griddle, and he’s just a smokin’ hot. I know I shouldn’t, but I take a little peek at the bulge of his groin when he looks at the clock on the wall. I’m not a total perv, just curious.



Go for it. What do I have to lose? “You think you’d want to head out for a coffee after this? You know, either to celebrate or lick our wounds.”



His smile looks different, it’s unnerving. Chuck walks to the center of the room, what the hell is he doing? Is he cracked?



He clears his throat, “can I have your attention, please?” I can literally hear the second hand ticking on the clock, all eyes are on him. Is he crazy?



“Thank you, everyone for showing your interest in this position. While we are pleased with this turnout, unfortunately, we are only hiring 3 people for the data entry positions.”



Wait, what?



“For those of you who don’t receive a job offer, please know that your interview results will be kept on file for the next six months and you may be called in if something else comes up. Without any further pretense,” he smirks at me, “let’s get this started. You and you,” he points right at me, “please step in my office.”



I slink into the office, too confused and embarrassed to even enjoy the amazing view out the massive mirrored windows. Why do I always step in it like this? Chuck closes the door and takes a seat behind his impressive desk, or the smooth metal curve he calls a desk.



“Alright then, tell me why you think you’re the right candidate for the job.”





Chapter Two: Licking Wounds



“Well, I fucked that one up.”



Charday chokes on her wine. “That’s so classic you,” she giggles. Her light caramel cheeks are flushed, making her look like she’s wearing the perfect shade of blush.



“It’s not funny! This was my only chance to get a job that matters.”



“And you didn’t do your homework and tried to pick up your boss,” she snorts.



“I didn’t know! Who does that? What kind of mind fuck is that?” I know I’m whining, but I’ll be damned if I plan to stop any time soon.



“Well, seriously though, it’s a pretty clever way of working out who’s there and for what reasons. Nozama is a multi-billion dollar company, can you blame them for being unconventional about how they weed out the new hires?”



Her being right doesn’t take the sting out of it. The barrage of questions I was completely unprepared for pop back into my head. What were Nozama’s last quarter results? Tell me the company’s motto. Where do you see yourself in five years? My answer to that last one makes my whole body cringe. I doubt “uh, I guess a main secretary or something,” was the beauty pageant answer he expected.



I know Charday’s right, I didn’t prepare. I just practiced some online typing tests and fantasized about spending fat paychecks instead of studying up on the company.



“Lesson learned, I guess.” I try not to sound as glum as I feel, but there’s no hiding how awful my day was. My roommate must finally feel like she’s beaten me down enough because she puts down her wine and gives me a quick hug.



“Don’t sweat it, Kadeesha. This is gonna be another one of your funny stories, you just need some time to pass to take the edge off it. In the meantime, let’s drown them sorrows,” she hops off the couch and grabs another bottle of $7 white wine from the fridge.



She’s right, of course, when isn’t she? It’s aggravating that she can be such a mother hen, but when my impulsiveness has me licking my wounds over a bottle of wine, I couldn’t dream of a better friend to help me through.



Charday pours the wine into my glass, filling it back up half way.



“Keep it coming.”



She laughs, “ok, just remember that tomorrow when you’re crying over the toilet bowl... Again.”



“It can’t feel any worse than I do right now. Besides, you don’t want to leave the glass half empty.”



“Or maybe it’s half full, right?”



“Maybe.”





It’s work to pry my eyelids open, the prickly sun rays are needles in my eyes. My head feels like I spent the night sleeping on a blaring concert speaker. Why, why, why do I do this to myself? The pillow I hold on my face blocks most of the sunlight that’s bullying my hangover. The ringing in my ears gets louder. Wait, that’s the phone. Grabbing it, I try not to sound like I just woke up.



“Hello,” my voice croaks. So much for that plan.



“Hello, may I please speak with Miss Williams,” a professional, but curt woman asks. Not another collection agent, please! Not now.



I briefly consider saying that she’s got the wrong number or hanging up. “That’s me.”



“Excellent,” she chirps making me want to rip off my ear. “Miss Williams this is Yvonne Goldblume from Nozama. I’m happy to report that we are extending you an employment opportunity in the company. Are you still interested?”



Her words are puzzle pieces that I struggle to put together, surely she’s made a mistake. Or I’m mistaken. One way or another a mistake is being made here.



“Miss Williams?”



“Sorry, yes, I’m still here. Uh, I would love to accept the job, yes!” I say louder than I would’ve liked. My brain thumps angrily in my head, like a neighbor telling me to keep down the racket.

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