CHAPTER TWO
Tabitha opened the door just as I entered, causing me to stumble. “How did you do? Did you find out who it was?” she asked, her wide green eyes brimming with impatience.
Parched after the long drive, I headed for the fridge and grabbed a juice, gulping it in one thirsty mouthful.
With hands on hips, she followed me into the kitchen. As always, Tabitha looked stunning in tight white jeans and a floral blouse. Her long blond hair framed her pretty features.
We were an odd pairing. While she was stylish and outgoing, I was old-fashioned and introverted. Joined at the hip since the age of five, we grew up in the same apartment block, both of us raised by widowed fathers.
I poured myself another glass of juice. “Not sure how it went.”
“Did you get to see him? Is there a name?”
“I only met an older woman. But I did hear the name Aidan Thornhill being whispered about.
“Seriously? You’re kidding me…” she screeched. “My God, Aidan Thornhill.” I shook my head. “Who’s that?”
Her stretched gaze nearly ate me alive. “Shit, Clary, he’s only the sexiest and most eligible billionaire in LA.” Without a moment to lose, she sprang up and tapped away on her laptop. “Come and have a look. Shit, he’s hot.”
Aidan Thornhill was indeed very good-looking. “He appears glum in every shot,” I said.
Tabitha leaned on her elbows and peered into the screen. “Hmm…the broody type. That makes him even sexier. Wow, imagine if you get the job.”
“I haven’t got it yet, Tabs,” I said.
“But you might. That’s the exciting bit.”
I sighed. “Let’s not jinx it. It’s better that way.”
“Don’t be so negative, Clary. Remember that seminar we attended. If one projects positive thoughts, life will deliver.
“That’s new-age claptrap and a recipe for disappointment. At least this way, I’ll be ecstatic if I get it.” Standing over Tabi’s shoulder, I checked the images of my potential boss. In each photo, he appeared with different women, never the same one twice. “He’s got a thing for blondes.”
“But wait till he sees you in a bikini.” Tabitha’s voice had gone up a decibel.
“Now you’re being crazy. I’ll be working as a PA, not a model. I don’t even own a bikini. And if I did, I wouldn’t be wearing it to work.” I tilted my head. Tabitha’s mouth curled into a wide, contagious grin. Imagining me at a computer in a bikini made us giggle.
The sound of “La Marseillaise” blaring startled both of us. I must change that ringtone.
While I searched for my phone in my handbag, Tabitha was close at my heels like an eager puppy dog. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the button. “Hello.”
An unfamiliar voice asked, “Is that Clarissa Moone?”
“Yes.”
“This is Ellen Shelton from the agency.”
“How are you?” I asked with a thin and high-pitched voice.
“Great, thank you. I’ve got pleasing news for you. You’ve got the job.”
“Really?” My eyes widened in disbelief.
“Don’t sound so shocked. You impressed them.”
“I didn’t do that much,” I said.
“Whatever you did was more than enough. I just spoke to Greta Thornhill. She requested that you go in tomorrow to discuss your role and sign a contract. Can you be there 9:30a.m.?”
I clutched the phone with a tight grip. “Yes, of course,” I exclaimed. “Thanks so much.”
“The pleasure is mine. They’ve been interviewing for quite some time. Well done.”