"Do you want to start?" Luis asks King.
King leans back in the chair and crosses his long, elegant legs. Damn. I've always drooled over his pictures online, but he's even more handsome in person. Photos didn't do him justice-not even the spread in Time Magazine when he was named "Man of the Year" for solving the world's credit card fraud problems. Nothing about him says "geek" at all, actually. With thick dark hair, kept on the long, shaggy side, a square jaw, and jade-green eyes, he looks rugged. He also holds an air of danger, his power barely contained by his expensive suit.
He looks back at me, his face an inscrutable mask. "What do you know about infosec, Kylie?"
I lace my fingers together on the table. No sense being nervous. I blew any chance I had of winning this job when I called him a deviant sociopath in the elevator. He probably just wants payback, and making me sit through the most awkward interview in the history of the world is his preferred form of torture.
Fuck this. I'm not getting the job. Why stay and suffer?
I push my chair back and rise. "You know, I don't think this is a good idea."
Stu shoots to his feet, looking angry. "Why not? Wait just a minute."
"I'm sorry to have wasted your time."
Stu steps between me and the door, like he's not going to let me go. His job must be on the line if he can't fill this position. Not my problem, buddy. What's he gonna do, body check me if I make a break for it?
"I think, actually, I screwed up this interview back in the elevator. So I'll just see myself out. Thank you-"
"Sit down, Ms. McDaniel," King commands, his deep resonant voice like steel.
I stop in my tracks. Damn, he's even hotter when he's stern. Like in the elevator, my body responds, nipples getting hard, pussy dampening.
His nostrils flare as if he can smell it. But that's ridiculous. He's still sitting, but there's no question who holds the power in the room.
I reach for my chair, a bit wobbly. And not just because of my heels. "Yes, sir." I sink back down.
"Thank you. I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."
Damn the man. He's determined to make me suffer. I rub my thumbnail with the pad of my index finger` then drop my hands to my lap to stop fidgeting.
"Mr. King, I apologize for the things I said about you in the elevator-I was very rude and... disrespectful."
King's expression doesn't change. He watches me with that cool assessment. "Answer the question."
Okaaay. Guess he's just going to ignore my apology. I'd fight back with sarcasm, but I promised myself I'd keep a lid on it. "My knowledge of infosec is mainly practical. You won't see it on my resume, but I do know all areas of security-how to assess weak points, how to mask code. No code is impenetrable, except maybe yours."
"How long would it take you to hack the average guy's Gmail?"
I allow a tiny smirk to curve my lips. "That would be illegal, Mr. King."
"So do you, or don't you know how to hack?"
He knows. That's my first thought. I shift in my chair. He's figured out I'm Catgirl. No, that's silly. All infosec professionals probably know how to hack. Maybe it's a prerequisite. Like the way the home security companies hire busted burglars to improve their systems.
Not that a security system-physical or virtual-has ever been able to keep me out. Although my skills might be a bit rusty. My cat burglary days died with my dad.
"If I knew how to hack, Mr. King, I certainly wouldn't admit it here, and that's why you won't see it on paper. But if, in theory, I wanted to hack the average guy's Gmail, it might take me ten to twenty minutes."
Stu gives him a tight smile. "We do have a series of tests we'll give Ms. McDaniel, after the interview." He returns his attention to me. "Now, why don't you tell us about your programming experience?"
King looks as bored as I feel as I rattle off my programming accomplishments. Luis grills with all the standard kinds of interview questions: Do I work well under pressure? On a team? Am I willing to work nights and overtime when necessary? How do I feel about relocating to Tucson from Phoenix?
I answer automatically, studying Jackson King without making it obvious. He hasn't asked another question. What's he thinking? Is he still mad about what I said in the elevator?
"Do you have any questions for us?" Luis asks.
"How many candidates are interviewing for the position?"
Stu shuffles his papers as the other two men look to him for the answer. "Three."
"When do you expect I'll hear something?" Probably a bit presumptuous, but presumption is all I have left.
"In a few days. We're interviewing everyone today."
"Better get that elevator fixed, then," I quip, my voice lighter than I feel.
Stu stands. "Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to an office for the test."
Thank God. Tests I can handle. I don't dare look at King as I stand, my cheeks still burning. Ducking my head, I follow Stu. When I get to the door, I risk a glance.
King's looking at me, his lips quirking at the edges.
Sadist. He enjoyed making me squirm.
~.~
Jackson
I watch Kylie's long muscular calves strut out of the room, her ass a perfect heart-shape in the short, fitted skirt. My wolf is still going nuts, snarling to get out. I've never let him get so out of control, especially not in the office. But there's never been a temptation like Kylie.
I force my thoughts to business. At least the part of the business that concern her.
"I want the results of her tests sent to me."