DAY 7: T.Torrest | 25 Days of Christmas
On the seventh day of 25 Days of Christmas, T. Torrest gave us a sneak peek to a never-before-seen first chapter. The best part is that this is a spoof novel, titled Dumbing it Down! I peeked at it and... well, you need to read it for yourself!
I woke up screaming, clutching at my damp sheets, my heart racing. There was a fuzzy remnant of fear coursing through my blood, but after a few deep inhales, I was able to let it fade back into the ether.
This scenario was nothing new, of course. I’ve learned to expect the nightmares. I’d experienced a very traumatic event in my past which I will refrain from talking about until later in order to draw out the dramatic tension.
Checking the clock on my nightstand, I could see that it was already eight in the morning. Time to get up and start the nightmare of my waking life.
Today is job-hunting day.
When I graduated American University this past May, I was sure potential employers would be beating a path to my door. I was valedictorian, after all. But finding a job has proven almost as difficult as getting toothpaste back into the tube, and I was just now coming to the realization that I may not have such an easy time of it as I thought.
Sighing, I sank back into my pillows and stared at the ceiling. My father was a world-renowned astrologist, and he’s been pushing for me to follow in his footsteps all these years.
Not that I minded. I loved space.
Years ago, he’d plastered my ceiling with pictures of our solar system and star constellations, and I found myself laying there running through their names in my mind—just like I’d done a million times before.
Leo and Taurus and Aries, oh my!
I whipped off my covers, hopped in the shower, and lathered up, singing along with “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” blaring out of the sound system. Why couldn’t life be as simple as those song lyrics? Why did I always have to work so hard for everything?
I was always an over-achiever. I kept my head down and my nose to the grindstone, always reading or studying or tweaking my notes. I never had much time for a social life. Then again, one didn’t get to be valedictorian of her class by playing social butterfly.
That was my best friend Gem’s job.
Stepping out of the shower, I toweled off and swiped the steam from the mirror. My mousy blonde hair looked even duller than usual today, and my watery blue eyes were looking just as lifeless. But at least my skin was clear, the dimples in my cheeks as pronounced as ever. My teeth were white and my lips were pinkish. Sometimes pinkish-reddish, but that’s only when I bit them a little bit to bring some color to the surface, or, you know, wore lipstick. I was five-and-a-half feet tall and weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds.
One hundred and eighteen pounds, I noted dejectedly as I stepped off the scale.
Dammit. No wonder I hadn’t been asked out all week.
Not that I could have taken any potential suitors up on their invitation anyway. I’d been way too focused on my studies to even consider dating anyone. I hoped that would change once I finally got a job.
It’s not that I didn’t like boys. I did. I just hadn’t met anyone who’d ever been willing to put up with my lofty goals or introverted nature. I might have been ambitious, but I was also very shy, and there really hadn’t ever been a guy who’d done more than make the first move. Once they found out how career-minded I was, most of them never made a second one.
“Ouch!” I yelped out loud as I stumbled over the bathroom rug and stubbed my toe on the door.
Along with ambitious and shy, I forgot to mention that I was also very clumsy, too.
I gave a rub to my sore toe and hobbled into my room to get dressed. December was cold in my suburban New Jersey town, so it was tough trying to piece together an outfit that would look professional, keep me warm, and yet not have me looking like Nanook of the North.
I settled on my pleated, gray skirt and my white, long-sleeved blouse with a Peter Pan collar. I layered it with my pink cardigan before jaunting downstairs to the kitchen. Dad was already sitting at the table while my mom flipped pancakes at the stove.
“Good morning, Mom, Dad.”
Mom turned from her cooking to greet me with a kiss. “Good morning, Sage. Would you like some pancakes?”
I settled myself at the table across from Dad and answered, “Sure. Sounds great!”
Dad took a sip from his coffee and remarked, “Are you all prepared for your interview?”
The mention of my interview with Zeus Interstellar, Inc. sent a thud! right to the pit of my stomach. In one hour, I’d be seated across from Zeus Interstellar himself. When he personally called to schedule a third interview, I took it as a good sign. But apparently, my stomach didn’t think so.
“Yes, Dad. I have a feeling this is more a formality than anything else. Zeus—uh, Mr. Interstellar doesn’t meet with every applicant personally. I have to imagine I’ve got a good shot.”
It was hard not to refer to Zeus by his first name. First of all, his name was Zeus! Have you ever met anyone with such a unique name? Me either. It just rolled off the tongue, too: Zeus. Zeuuus. Zeeeeuuuusssss.
Secondly, while researching his company prior to my first interview, I had come across a picture of the guy. He looked like a mythical god. All six foot two inches of expensive suit and commanding presence, black hair, black eyes, and really, really handsome.
Dark, though. I could tell that he was dark.
Dad reached a hand across the table to lay it on top of mine. “Well, of course you’ve got a good shot! You were valedictorian of your class!” He gave a snicker and added, “And let’s not forget who your father is. Astrology is in your blood.”
My father was Dr. Leonard Marisoux.
Yes, that Dr. Leonard Marisoux. The leading astrologist in the entire country. I’m guessing you’ve seen his face on TV or read his best-selling books. The career of Leonard Marisoux was a tough act to follow, but he had confidence that I was up to the task.
I was glad someone did.
I smiled as Mom placed my breakfast in front of me, and I crammed a forkful of pancake in my mouth so I wouldn’t have to answer.
* * *
The offices of Zeus Interstellar were located on the top three floors of Roebling Tower, an imposing skyscraper located in the heart of Times Square. In other words, traffic was a nightmare.
I parked my Cabriolet™ in an overpriced garage on 42nd Street and set off toward Broadway, stopping in my tracks when I saw the shiny glass and steel building looming above me. The entirety of New York City was already beautifully decorated for the holidays and The Interstellar Building was no exception. There was about a mile of green garland draped across the entrance with large red balls hanging Christmasly. I walked past, took a deep breath, and entered via the main doors.
My heels clacked against the marble floor as I made my way to the front desk situated in the center of the humongous lobby. I couldn’t stop myself from taking in the space—black-on-black faux-finished walls, black floor, black furnishings. The only color in the room was a large, red, three-story Christmas tree decorated with silver bows, but even that looked ominous. I hoped my initial impression from my Google search was incorrect and that the man wasn’t as dark as his building.
I approached the shiny black desk and addressed the male receptionist sitting behind it. He was wearing a black suit with a nametag that read Brent. “Hello. My name is Sage Marisoux. I have an appointment with Mr. Interstellar.”
Brent smiled politely as he said, “Good afternoon, Ms. Marisoux.” He picked up the phone and dialed an extension, announcing my presence to whomever was on the other end of the line. When he hung up, he handed me a visitor pass and directed me toward the elevators. “Top floor. Jane will direct you from there.”
I barely said thank you as I headed for the elevators, too flustered by my surroundings to remember how to act like a regular human. I had no idea that I was in for a much bigger shock.
I stripped off my North Face™ parka and introduced myself to Jane who escorted me down the hall to a large conference room. There were about a dozen people sitting around an oversized table who all looked up as I entered.
And then I saw Zeus.
His black eyes took on an intriguing smolder as he raked his gaze up and down my body, making me feel exposed and conspicuous.
God. He was even more unreasonably gorgeous than his pictures.
He turned his attention back toward the people seated around the table. “I think we’ve covered everything. Will you all please excuse us?”
At Zeus’s command, everyone immediately rose from their seats and filed out the door next to me.
And then there were two.
“Ms. Marisoux,” Zeus said in his beautiful, deep baritone, standing up to greet me. Holy crap, the guy had a body that could rival Michelangelo’s David. “Nice to meet you. Please,” he offered as he held his hand out toward the chair next to him.
We sat down, and my nervousness over the interview was now coupled with my adrenaline over being near such a powerful, handsome man. My heart was racing, and I expelled a shaky breath, hoping Zeus wasn’t able to hear it.
“Please, call me Sage,” I offered.
“Interesting name.”
“It’s short for Sagittarius.”
“How very unique and quirky,” he said as his eyes traveled along the length of my exposed legs. “I’ll assume your name reflects your personality.” Zeus crossed an ankle over his knee before sliding a file folder off the table and onto his lap. He smirked as he flipped it open to scan the pages inside. “I’ve been studying your resume, Ms. Marisoux.”
“Studying?”
“Yes. I was intrigued from the get-go, and wanted to learn everything I could before our meeting today. I put my best investigators on the case. Yet your Facebook page didn’t turn up any surprises.”
“Well, there’s always Google.”
“I was looking forward to finding out from the source.”
His quirked lip sent a shiver straight down my spine. But I was able to keep my voice steady to suggest, “Do you want to play Twenty Questions or something?”
Zeus’s eyes took on an icy veneer, the power in his glare causing me to flinch. He slammed the folder down onto the table with such authority, such virile masculine strength before eyeing me up and down as if I were an insolent street urchin. His eyes tightened as he hissed through his clenched teeth, “No! I want to peel away the layers, bit by bit, until your insides have been exposed.”
I was startled by the outburst, but to be honest, his sultry comment and unrelenting stare were kind of hot. My heart raced in my chest and my next words were stuttered because of it. “That’s... That sounds like something a serial killer would say.”
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and simply arched a mysterious eyebrow at me.
My eyes pivoted around the room to avoid meeting his steely gaze, and landed on a contraption in the corner. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the large bucket seat suspended from chains in the corner of the expansive room. It was constructed out of black leather, with lots of matching cuffs in multiple positions along the chains.
“It’s a sex swing.”
I almost choked on my own tongue. “Oh, uh, okay. But ummm... what’s it doing in the conference room?”
“The Lifestyle knows no limits,” Zeus said sexily. “Do you have limits, Ms. Marisoux?”
While I was trying to figure out what “lifestyle” he was referring to, he reached a hand out toward me and placed his palm on my knee.
I should have been offended, but all I could feel was the pure rush of excitement his touch instilled in me.
“Is this okay, Ms. Marisoux?”
“I suppose it shouldn’t be.”
“And yet…?”
“And yet I don’t mind.”
His hand started a leisurely caress over the skin of my thigh. “Thank you for your honesty. You’re very impressive.” He met my eyes to add, “You’re also very beautiful.”
“Does that mean I have the job?”
He released his hold and leaned back in his seat, shaking his head as his fingers raked through his black hair. “I can’t hire you. It will kill me.”
I wondered if he’d pulled this routine on all of his interviewees.
“That seems highly unfair,” I shot back. “In fact, maybe I should remind you about page fourteen, clause three in The New York Labor Laws Handbook.” I cleared my throat and recited, “No employer shall refuse work to a potential employee due to race, disability, or extreme levels of attractiveness. Which means you can’t not hire me just because I’m hot.”
“What if you were an uggo?”
“Then either.” He went to say something, but before he could speak, I put my hand up in a halt. “You can handle the average-looking people any way you like, Mr. Interstellar. There’s no law to protect them. Although, I’m sure you already know this.”
His lips quirked into a mischievous grin as he sighed. “Fine. Have it your way. Just know that I’m going to hit on you every minute you’re in this building. And since I’ve already disclosed that information, you can’t turn around and sue me for sexual harassment. So, what do you say, Ms. Marisoux? Would you like to come work for me?”
“Are you offering me a job, Mr. Interstellar?”
“Yes. Provided you agree to that whole ‘not suing me’ thing, the job is yours.”
“Hmmm.” I pretended to mull his proposition over, but it was hardly a debate. “I think you’ve got yourself a new astrologist.”
“No take backs!” he added as he shook my hand.
A fantastic job at a billion-dollar astrology firm working for the hottest guy I’ve ever met in my entire life?
I wouldn’t take it back if I could.
GIVEAWAY!
One lucky winner gets to win their choice of T.Torrest E-book! COMMENT on the original post with your thoughts about the chapter and your choice of ebook!
FOLLOW T.TORREST
Comments
Post a Comment