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Without Apology (Without Series Book 1) by Aubrey Bondurant (18)

Peyton

After a hot shower under a decadent array of streaming water in the divine master shower, I slipped into bed. I must’ve slept like the dead because the sound of the alarm on my phone was the next thing I knew. As I stretched in the luxurious sheets in the middle of Simon’s massive, king-sized bed, I looked up to see him at the door. Standing there, staring.

That’s when I realized I was in nothing but my thong and T-shirt, having kicked off the sheets entirely.

“I just, uh—” His voice was thick and strained. “I was coming to ensure you were up. I’ll give you some privacy.” He turned and headed back out into the apartment.

I peeked down at myself. For not trying to be sexy, the image wasn’t half bad. But unfortunately, I had an interview to get to.

Thirty minutes later I was done with my makeup, dressed in sweats, and with half my hair up and a curling iron wrapped around the last couple of strands of hair when he knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

The bathroom door was open. I caught his eyes in the vanity mirror as he walked in and leaned against the frame. He was dressed in jeans, for the first time I’d ever seen, with a soft gray T-shirt stretching over his chest. “Lunch is here.”

I tried not to drool over him. Or overthink all of the things he’d done to get me here. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a few.”

“You get enough sleep?”

“I did. Your bed is very comfortable.” And suddenly I had a vision. One of him on top of me, skin to skin, pressing me into his mattress. I could feel my face heating at the dirty thoughts only to see his expression darken.

“I’ll be out in the kitchen.”

He was gone in a flash, leaving me once again in a state of confusion. The thing was, I’d had sex with men. I’d been attracted to guys. But not like I was attracted to him. That I was here in his condo when he could’ve easily dropped me at a hotel seemed to highlight the fact I might not be the only one struggling with these emotions.

Lunch consisted of turkey wraps, roast beef sandwiches, fruit, and chips on a catering tray for two.

“I wasn’t sure what you might be hungry for.”

“This all looks delicious. Thank you. Not just for lunch but also for making this happen.”

“You’re welcome. You nervous?”

“Not really.” Although I didn’t want to let anyone down, such as Megan or Simon, I certainly didn’t stress about trying to impress the board. Frankly, I could only be myself and answer questions as honestly as possible.

“That’s good then.”

“Are you coming with?”

“No. Would give the wrong impression, I think, if they suspected I’d traveled with you.”

Made sense. It also felt like there’d be less pressure without him there, especially if I were to tank the interview completely.

Once we finished up lunch, I dressed in my black dress with white piping. It was professional, classy, and somewhat comfortable. Plus, I had killer black shoes to match. Checking my reflection, I dabbed on some gloss and then was ready to go.

Simon was waiting in the living room. He had his hands in his pockets, and he looked: nervous. “You all set?”

“For the most part. Is everything okay with you?” Funny how it was me going to the interview, but him looking anxious.

He gave me a small smile. “Yes. Of course. The driver will pick you up in front and then drive you to the office and wait. He’ll give you a card with his number so you can text him once you’re done.”

“Thank you.” Simon had gone to a lot of trouble. Now, leaving him in his apartment while I went on the interview felt strange. Almost like I didn’t want to go without him. Shit. I wasn’t this girl. I’d never needed a man to boost me up, yet here we were about to separate for a couple of hours, and I was suddenly nervous, too.

Uh-oh. He must’ve seen it on my face.

“You’ll do fine.”

“Let’s hope so. Do I look okay?” I smoothed down my dress and watched his gaze sweep over me.

“Yeah. You look fine.”

Huh. That was two fines. Okay. Maybe we were back to professional boundaries only? The blurring lines were making my head spin.

“All right. I guess I’ll see you later. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

***

The building was located five blocks away. I could’ve walked it although, in these heels it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. The sidewalks were bustling with both tourists and business people. A lot of the latter were probably taking off early for the weekend.

Fred, the driver of the car, gave me his card with his number after he got my door and helped me out. I stepped into the impressive lobby and to the front desk of the very modern and very tall office building. Since they were expecting me, I was given a visitor’s badge and shown to the elevator bank for the forty-third floor. Although I wasn’t nervous about the interview itself, New York made me a bit anxious. The popping of my ears as the elevator zoomed upward didn’t help.

When I stepped off into a lovely lobby area, a receptionist greeted me. “You must be Ms. Waters.”

I smiled warmly. “I am.”

“Great. Follow me. Can I get you a beverage, or do you need to use the ladies’ room?”

“No thank you. I’m good.”

I was taken to a small conference room with windows overlooking Times Square. I wondered how anyone got work done here considering all of the distractions outside. I soaked in all of the billboards and lights flashing.

“Mr. Smith and Mr. Zambora will be in soon.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, knowing I was ten minutes early. For a change, it was nice not to be running late.

When the door swung open a couple minutes later, I expected the gentlemen, but it was Tom who walked in.

“Peyton, welcome to the Big Apple.”

“Tom.” I tried to hide my surprise and was unable to say it was nice to see him. It wasn’t. He was here with an agenda. It was written cruelly all over his face.

“And here I heard you didn’t fly.”

“Evidently, you heard wrong.” It wasn’t technically a lie since I had flown on a plane earlier in my life.

“Must have. Just so you’re aware, in addition to Jeff, we also brought in a number of well-qualified outside candidates. They’ve all run much bigger companies than Maddox Consulting.”

So this was his game. Intimidation. “It’s good to hear they’re widening the net. If I don’t get this job, I certainly want to ensure the person who does is capable.” I let hang in the air the implication that Jeff was not qualified.

Tom gave a smile which didn’t meet his eyes. “Anyhow, I won’t keep you. Good luck. You’ll certainly need it.”

I wanted to say a phrase with the first word rhyming with ‘luck’ and the last word ‘off,’ but simply murmured a “thank you,” remembering he was the owner’s nephew. As soon as he left, however, I let the explicative fly under my breath.

Putting his toxic energy aside, I took a few deep cleansing breaths, trying to rid myself of the asshole cooties in the room.

Five minutes later I was calm enough to greet the two gentlemen as they came in for my first interview.