"Hey there, pretty lady." My rock star boss sat outstretched in stone washed jeans and a fitted V-neck sky blue tee that accentuated his sunkissed triceps. Chains around his neck hung like prized possessions, and his brown eyes sucked the air straight from my lungs.
"That's you, by the way," he said, raising his eyebrows.
"Ah thanks." I quickly took my seat in the iron chair.
"You don't take compliments well, do you?"
"If I'd known I would be the one interviewed, I might have passed up on dinner." I sat tall and squared my shoulders.
A pause stretched out between us as he held my gaze. "I doubt that."
I exhaled, "Do you always get what you want?"
"Not always."
I couldn't help but notice a sadness in his voice.
"Surely, everyone just bows down to you.."
His face met mine, contorting into a whimper of a smile.
"Most do. But you, Ms. Winters, you are something else..." he said, his voice turning to gravel.
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