Uh...Hi...I'm back *laughs nervously* Yeah, I owe you guys big time. Enjoy.

Please votes and comment, I love to see what you guys think along the way.

Love, Lisha xoxoxo

"As you probably already know, I'm the CEO of RBH." He stood from his chair and walked toward me with a soft smile. "My name is Michael. Michael Jackson."

He's...

"I'll be taking on your interview today."

He's...

"I'd usually have someone else do the interviews but I felt like getting involved this time around since you would be my personal assistant. I hope you don't mind."

He held out his hand to me to shake, but I was frozen in place.

SO DAMN SEXY! I wouldn't mind climbing that tree!

This man is F-I-N-E.

"N-No, sir. Not at all. Scarlet. Scarlet Jimenez." I smiled as a sign of assurance and finally placed my dainty hand in his.

I jumped slightly from the strangely pleasurable tingle that ran through my body as our hands made chaste contact.

"Pleasure." His hands were so soft and warm. I could have just melted at his touch.

"My god..." I whispered.

"What was that?" He asked leaning a little closer to me.

I stuttered as I tried to come up with an excuse. The close contact not helping in the slightest!

Lord, help me....

"Umm..."

With no other great ideas, I pressed my hands together in prayer.

"My god, what a beautiful day, right? Right. Amen!" I signed the cross from my forehead to my chest as I inwardly scolded myself.

"Oh yes, it's lovely isn't it?" He chuckled.

Stay professional, Scarlet!

My potential future boss was quite the looker. I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a little...moist.

His jet black hair sat neatly on his shoulders with a few loose curl on his forehead. One particularly sexy curl hung over his eye. His caramel skin seemed to glow along with his whole persona. He had beautiful teeth that sparkled when he smiled his panty dropping smile.

I suppose I'd better pick up mine before I lose out on this this job...but ay papi...

And his eyes...his soft brown eyes, in a way, scared me. I felt like I could get lost in them. Like I was under a spell or something, and the way they lit up when I walked into the room...I was so sure that look was meant for me...

Don't be so full of yourself!

He was wearing a black suit with a purple shirt underneath, a black tie, designer black Italian shoes and he sported a gold Rolex on his right wrist.

"So, let's get started." He smiled lightly overlooking my fake prayer.

Thank god! Now that's a real prayer.

"Yes. Let's."

I took out my slim, black reading glasses and put them on, ready for the interview to begin.

Sell. Sell. Sell.

********

After going over a few things on my résumé, he placed the documents in his hands down, put his elbows up on the desk and interlocked his fingers seemingly staring me down.

Two can play at that game, Jackson.

I smiled politely, putting my confidence on full display.

See anything you like, Mr Jackson?

"Well, after looking over your résumé, I can see that you are highly skilled even at the young age of twenty-three. Impressive, but I'd like to know more about you. This job needs good personality as well as experience. So, tell me a little more about yourself." He smiled lightly putting me a little more at ease.

"Well," I smiled back before crossing my legs.

His focus was suddenly shifted to my legs as I crossed them. His eyes travelled up my body slowly and stopped at my neck. He stared at it for a little too long, licking his lips before I cleared my throat causing him to straighten his posture and fix his tie.

Nervous habit perhaps?

He then gestured for me to continue.

"What would you like to know, sir?"

I started searching his face discretely. He seemed so familiar. Like I'd seen him somewhere before.

The way he looked at me just now was so...I can't put my finger on it. I'm sure I know those eyes from somewhere.

"Tell me about your background."

"I was born in Barcelona, Spain. I lived there for the first ten years of my life before my mother and father decided to move us to New York so that my farther could pursue his career in architecture and my mother could open a boutique. We lived in Manhattan but I moved to Harlem when I turned twenty-one."

"So I'm aware that you speak Spanish fluently."

"Si señor." I giggled. "I speak Spanish fluently, along with French and English."

"Language skills are something we find very useful in the hotel industries." He nodded approvingly at me. "Do you have any interests?" He asked leaning in a little closer.

I got this job in the bag. I just know it.

"I play the piano, I like to write, I enjoy some sports, and I love music and dance."

"Really? Have you competed?"

"I won numerous dance competitions throughout my school life and I used to sing at my mother's events along with writing some of my own music but I've never done it professionally."

"Ah I see."

He stood from his chair and I did the same as he walked around the desk to me. "I don't usually do this, but you are the best applicant yet and I would love for you to be my new assistant...and I'm pretty desperate actually." He chuckled. "I have some important events coming up and no one has suited to my needs the way I'm sure you will."

"Really?" I said in disbelief. "You're serious? I-I mean, of course, sir. I'll work very hard for you."

"Oh I think so." He chuckled. "But first I'll need to put you through a trial. Since I want you to start soon, let me have you for lunch this afternoon. Be prepared. This is something you'll have to do whilst working for me. As well as being my assistant, as you know, you'll also be my escort."

"Yes sir, Mr Jackson. Just tell me what time and where and I'll be there." I picked up my briefcase as he took a look at his watch.

"Hmm. Well it's already noon, so is now ok? My driver is outside waiting for me. You could ride with me." He offered tucking his hand into his pocket.

"Sure. I'm well prepared for this. Thank you, sir."

"You're very welcome, Miss Jimenez."

He held his hand out toward the doors politely gesturing me towards them.

"After you."

I walk ahead of him, oblivious to the fact that "having me for lunch" could have meant much more than a plate of linguine...