Chapter 3

Ray awoke to the sound of the shower running. He locked his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling. The water shut off and he heard a hair dryer.

He headed into the bathroom. Rebecca was standing, nude and using the dryer. "I'll get out of your way in a sec," she said over the sound of the machine. She switched it off and unplugged it.

Ray approached her, embraced her and kissed her lips. "I've fallen for you hard, Rebecca," he said and ran his hand along the small of her back and her buttocks.

"Please -- you're making it worse."

"Making what worse?"

"When I woke up it flashed on me ... what if we never see each other again? God -- I have the worst butterflies in my stomach. There's so much riding on this interview..."

He caressed her cheek. "I can't predict how it'll go. It could go one way today and the other way tomorrow. Kirk has a mercurial personality. You'll find out about that if he hires you."

"You make it sound like a damned- if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situation."

"Kirk's a good man and a fair one. You do have as good a chance as anyone."

"Thanks for the pep talk. I'll get dressed."

Ray showered, stepped from the bathroom and dressed in the clothes he had worn the night before. "How do I look?" Rebecca asked him.

He regarded her from head to foot to head again. "You look sensational. It's a perfect outfit, Rebecca. Kirk likes to see his women in skirts. You have dynamite legs and they look great."

"I'm not showing too much leg, am I?"

"You're showing just the right amount of leg."

"How should I do my hair?" She gathered it into a ponytail. "Back? Up? Loose?"

"Back I think," he replied. She sorted through her case and located a large hair clip. "That looks good ... professional."

"This hotel doesn't have a restaurant," she said, "but they do provide breakfast."

"Then, let's go downstairs for breakfast. You can check out and we'll head over to the Westmar building. It doesn't make sense for me to go home at this point."

"Okay ... let me close up my bag." She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. "Ray -- I feel somehow unfinished without my face on."

"Rebecca ... read my lips. You look sensational. Sen-sa-tion-al. Got it?"

"Got it."

In the lobby Ray helped himself to some coffee and a Danish. Rebecca joined him with a glass of juice. "I had no trouble checking out."

"I told you that you wouldn't."

"Knowing you were here was a comfort ... Oh, Ray -- I don't want to be a dependent woman, but you did give me peace of mind."

"Are you having anything other than juice?" he asked.

"I'm too nervous to eat."

"You ought to have something solid in your stomach to soak it up. Otherwise your blood sugar could go funny at the wrong moment."

"Good point..." She picked up a donut and wolfed it down. "Ready."

They headed down the street, holding hands and she dragging her suitcase. Ray glanced down an alley. "Rebecca -- lookie here. Isn't that your purse?"

"I believe it is..." She retrieved it from a trash barrel and peered inside.

"Anything left?"

"Just my makeup ... cell phone's gone and so is my wallet." She returned it to the trashcan.

"You're not taking it?"

"It's filthy and gross ... and I don't need the makeup." They continued down the street. "You know -- last night you made me feel like a new woman, Ray. I felt young ... I felt desired. I haven't felt like that in years."

"I do desire you, Rebecca."

"I know. I can feel it. And you've been calling me Rebecca ... I'm getting used to it and I think I like it. It makes me feel like a grown up."

They reached the Westmar building. Ray called for the elevator and then pressed the buttons for the twelfth and fourteenth floors. Rebecca stepped out on twelve. "Wish me luck," she said.

"Good luck."

Ray sat behind his desk flipping through a stack of papers. He heard a rap on his door. "Yes," he called.

His receptionist poked her head through the door. "I know you have this afternoon blocked out to review client reports," she said, "but Kirk has a candidate he'd like you to take a look at. Cory brought this up." She handed him a resume. Ray regarded it. The name on it read Rebecca DeWitte. "Shall I communicate your regrets?"

"I'll squeeze her in, Lyla," he replied and turned to his laptop.

Ray began typing. He heard another rap on his door. "Yeah," he called.

Lyla poked her head in his door. "Rebecca DeWitte is here."

"Send her in."

Rebecca stood in his office, slack-jawed and with a flush on her cheeks. "I don't understand," she said. "Why am I here? Why did they send me up to see you?"

"I'm almost done," he said as he typed. He hit a key on his keyboard, then planted his elbows on his desk, locked his fingers together and rested his chin on them. He looked into her eyes. "Congratulations. You have the job."

"They sent me here so you could tell me that?"

"Oh, no. Please, have a seat."

"I think I'd rather stand. Ray -- what in hell is going on?"

"Kirk often has me take one last look at his candidates, especially important ones. He wants to make sure he isn't missing something. I did save him from a disaster, once. I was in the process of writing up my recommendation."

"Aren't you going to interview me, too?"

"No need. I got all I needed last night. You bared your soul to me ... among other things."

The blush on her cheeks deepened and she clenched her jaw. "I am feeling downright ... used," she replied. "Is your recommendation colored by what happened in bed?"

"I am not in the habit of trading my professional advice for favors," he replied, "whether it be cash, swag or cootchie."

"How dare you!" She slapped his face.

Ray put his hand to his cheek. "I'm sorry," he said. "I think it might've been a tad unethical for me to have slept with you."

"You think?"

Ray turned to a printer and picked from it a stack of papers. "It's also a tad unethical for me to show you this." He handed them to her. "This is what I'll send to Kirk. It's marked strictly confidential so don't let on that you've seen it."

Rebecca started reading it. "Ray ... is this how you really feel about me?"

"Indeed. You have to realize I need to express it in language Kirk can comprehend. Actually, this is one of my better efforts. I think I was in the zone when I wrote this ... inspired from having your scent lingering in my nostrils."

"'You will find Rebecca the sort won't make the same mistake twice, even if she makes her share of them once.' What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You've heard the expression, to err is human?"

"Yes, and to forgive divine."

"In Kirk's mind," he replied, "learning from your mistakes is the sign of an entrepreneurial mentality. Kirk is first and foremost and entrepreneur. You have the mentality he cherishes."

"What makes you say that?"

"When we talked at Farley's, you told me about your ego-less reviews. That was an idea you cooked up." He tapped his head. "It came from up here. Will it work? I don't know -- but you weren't shy about trying it. And, I'm sure you refined it as you went along."

She continued to read. "The thing about leadership..." He saw her eyes begin to fill. "Oh, Ray -- I'm so sorry I jumped to a conclusion ... I'm so sorry I slapped you. I hope I didn't hurt you."

"No more than I deserved for a wiseass remark. Rebecca -- I formed these opinions before we left Farley's. What happened afterward is just between us. I didn't write that recommendation because we slept together. We slept together because that was what I would write. Do you know what part of your body I find the most irresistibly sexy?"

"What?"

"Your brain. Before I could sleep with you I needed to admire you. I left Farley's admiring you."

She continued to read. "'Bottom line assessment: definitely a twenty percent-er.' What does that mean?"

"Kirk believes in the principal of top talent. Do you know Paretto's law?"

"Isn't that the eighty-twenty thing?" she asked.

"Kirk believes that, in any business, eighty percent of the work is done by twenty percent of the people. If you hire those twenty percent and get rid of the rest, you have a lean but effective organization. You belong in that twenty percent."

"Do you agree with him?"

"From an organizational psychology viewpoint, I'm worried about how it scales. But, that's how he's built his business and so far, it's worked."

She handed the papers to him and he began fastening them into a binder. He pressed his keyboard, retrieved another page from his printer and applied his signature. This and the binder he slipped into a large envelope and sealed it.

"Here," he said as he handed it to her. "Give this to Cory, downstairs."

"How are you so sure he'll give me the job?" she asked.

"Because he only sends his finalist up to see me."

Tears began flowing down her cheeks. "Oh, Ray -- thank you. Thank you for everything."

He came from behind his desk and embraced her. "It doesn't change how I feel for you. None of this changes it."

"Me, neither."

"Maybe we will be seeing a lot of each other. After all -- I'm right upstairs."

"It's just beginning to sink in..." She sniffed and brushed tears from her face.

Ray grabbed a facial tissue from a box and handed it to her. "At least you don't have any makeup to ruin."

"An advantage, I guess."

"Once you make arrangements with Kirk, then we can make arrangements of our own. Agreed?"

"Agreed. I will be in touch." Ray kissed her lips and she headed out his door.