One night stand with my daddy's best friend
74

Bridget

I pulled my car into the parking garage of MacLeod Capital Investment's building downtown. My job interviews so far have been for small to mid-size companies because I didn't imagine I could get into a large company like MacLeod Capital Investments. I was still in shock when I got the call from the HR department to come and interview. How'd they even know about me? For a moment, I worried that my dad had poked his nose where it didn't belong, but my resume said Bridget Franklin, not Manion, to avoid my father's influence making a difference. The result is that no one at MacLeod Capital Investment knew I was a Manion.

The only thing I could come up with was that my internship supervisor or college advisor had pulled a few strings. Both had told me they knew I'd be a success. In fact, they both said it wouldn't be long before I was starting my own firm. That sounded appealing. But first, I needed to get more experience, and MacLeod Capital Investment would give me that in spades. Assuming I could get the job.

I parked and took the elevator up to the sixtieth floor. I wondered what an earthquake was like from up this high. I shuddered and decided that wasn't something to think about now.

I exited the elevator and made my way up the hall to Mr. MacLeod's office.

The woman at the desk lifted her gaze to me and smiled. It was so friendly that it helped me relax. "You must be Ms. Franklin."

I nodded. "Yes. I'm here to see Mr. MacLeod."

"I'll let him know you're here. Would you like some coffee or tea?" "No. Thank you."

She picked up the phone and talked into the receiver. When she put it down, she said, "You can go in. Good luck."

"Thank you." Goodness. People were so nice here.

I stepped into the office. The desk was empty, and I wondered who the receptionist had talked to. But then I looked over toward the large window overlooking Wilshire Boulevard. A large man with incredibly broad shoulders stood looking out over the city.

I could only see the back, but the woman in me was sure he was as stunning from the front. He looked powerful. Like he was surveilling all he owned, which wouldn't be off since MacLeod owned real estate all through the state and even in a few other states, at least that's what I'd learned in my research when I prepared for this interview.

He turned and smiled, and holy moly he was even better from the front. I could see power exuding from the man in the well-tailored suit, but his crystal blue eyes had a hint of danger. Not in a scary way, but in the way that made a woman feel safe from a dangerous world.

Realizing I was gaping, I pulled myself together. "Mr. MacLeod. I'm Bridget M... Franklin." I extended my hand.

He took my hand, wrapping long fingers around it, sending shivers through my body. How annoying. Keep cool, Jet, I reminded myself.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I can have Ms. Eliot bring you some water."

"No. I'm fine. I just thought you'd be older." I immediately chastised myself. What was I saying? It was common knowledge that I had a loose filter on my mouth, but I'd learned to control it, when necessary, like at job interviews. "You're thinking of my father. I'm running things for him at the moment." He extended his hand toward a chair. "Would you like to sit?"

Yes. My legs were feeling wobbly from nerves and the powerful pheromones this man put off.

I plopped down in the chair, feeling very uncouth. Get it together, Jet.

He sat in the chair next to me instead of behind the desk. He picked up a paper off his desk and looked it over. "Your resume is impressive."

"So are you..." My eyes widened. What was wrong with me? I was acting like a love-struck schoolgirl. "I mean, the company...it's such an honor to have an interview."

He smiled looking amused at me. "Are you nervous?"

Great. He thought I was an inept, inexperienced ninny. I dug down to replace the real Jet Franklin Manion. The one that wasn't impressed by rich, powerful men, even if they had incredible eyes.

"Of course, I'm nervous," I snapped. Good God. From a drooling schoolgirl with a crush to snarky.

He laughed, leaning forward slightly like he had a secret. "I am too." "You? I doubt that."

He straightened. "Why?"

"Why?" I took him in again. His power suit showing off a well-built man. His assessing eyes. His easy smile that belied the hint of danger in his aura. "Because of all that." I waved my hand indicating his body.

He looked down, straightening his tie. He returned his gaze to me. "I don't understand."

Now I felt like he was patronizing me or maybe making fun of me. "Look, Mr. MacLeod, I can see that this interview has gone off the rails." I rose from the chair.

He stood too, and in doing so, put us nearly face to face. Well not face to face, because he was so tall, but our bodies were less than a foot apart. I could feel the heat radiating from him. If I was a woman prone to swooning, I would be doing it

now.

"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable." His voice was deep but soft. "It's not you...well it is you..." God, shut up Jet. I stepped away from

him. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "I'd like to interview you." Was he shitting me?

As you reach the final pages, remember that 000005s.com is your destination for the complete story. Share the joy of reading with others and spread the word. The next chapter is just a visit away! "Please. Sit. We can talk about your experience and the job." I studied his face looking for any indication that he was placating me. What I saw was sincerity.

"Okay. But can you sit behind your desk?"

He arched a brow. "You want me behind my desk?" "Yes."

He smiled, and I saw the amusement again. "Why? That makes me seem like I'm lording my power over you."

My mind officially had gone on the fritz because the only thing I could think to say was that I wanted him to lord his power over me. Except we'd

both be naked. I bit my tongue to keep from saying that.

"If it makes you feel more comfortable, then of course." He turned, going to his desk.

I used the moment to take in deep breaths. My brain needed oxygen. Behind his desk he motioned for me to sit.

I sat down and acted like I hadn't been a blabbering psycho for the last few minutes. "Thank you for seeing me Mr. MacLeod."

"You're welcome." He stared at me for a long moment. I did my best not to squirm.

"Yes...right..." His gaze broke away to look at my resume. "Ms.

Franklin-"

"You can call me Bridget." Most people called me Jet, a name I gave myself when I was eleven and rebelling against everyone. But it wasn't very professional, I used Bridget in the workplace.

"Bridget." The way my name rolled off his lips sent an unwanted yet titillating thrill through me. What the hell? I was never one to be taken in by a good-looking guy. But something about Mr. MacLeod had my hormones going haywire. It was stupid. I probably wasn't his type. He was older than me although not so old that it would be inappropriate. Plenty of corporate types had young women on their arms. I wanted to smack myself. What was I thinking? "Tell me about your experience."

I'm not a virgin if that's what you mean. God, I hoped I didn't say that out loud. I looked out the window and willed my brain to get it right. This wasn't me.

I looked back. "I developed online marketing campaigns for an app. That involved market research, copywriting, and designing the media assets. When I left, the app had over three million downloads."

As you reach the final pages, remember that 000005s.com is your destination for the complete story. Share the joy of reading with others and spread the word. The next chapter is just a visit away! "Impressive." His gaze was on me again. I wished he wouldn't do that. It wasn't creepy. No, it was nice which meant I could say something totally inappropriate, like, "you have the most fantastic blue eyes I've ever seen." "Thank you."

He sat back and studied me. I brought my gaze down to look at his tie to avoid his eyes, which didn't help. He had a sexy neck. Was that a thing?

"You're young and yet you're ready to jump into corporate life."

Yeah, so? "Yes. That's what I've trained for."

"You don't want to travel or have an adventure while you're still young

enough to enjoy it?"

I frowned. "If you don't want to hire me "

"I'm not saying that. I'm wondering why a young, talented, engaging woman is committing to a life in an office when there are other things you can do. So many people your age with your talent are digital nomads, working their marketing magic while traveling the world."

"You're stuck in an office."

He nodded. "But for the last twenty-two years I was a Navy SEAL." That explained the amazing body and edge of danger.

I shrugged. "Are you holding it against me that I don't want to sip pina coladas in Bali while snapping highly filtered Instagram photos that hide my freckles and hair frizz, and make me look twenty pound thinner?"

"Pina coladas are from Puerto Rico and why do you need a filter to look twenty pounds thinner?"

Somehow this interview was going off track. Then again, I'm not sure it was ever on track. "Is this how you interview most people?"

He flinched and sat up straight. "No. I'm sorry. The truth is, you're my first interviewee."

"No wonder we're both bombing."

He laughed, his eyes lighting up. It made my breath stall. "Touché, although I have to say you're not bombing."

Well, that was good. Maybe he was planning to hire me. I wonder what it would be like to work under him. My brain went straight to the gutter, imagining me underneath his large naked body. If I survived this interview and got the job, I was going to have to get therapy or something to learn to control my libido around this man.