“Why didn’t you tell her?”
“I was going to surprise her if I got the job.”
I stare at him as I process his words. “Why wouldn’t you tell her you were going for this? Applications have been going on for months.”
His eyes drop to the carpet. “I didn’t want her to be disappointed when I didn’t get it.”
“She wouldn’t be disappointed if you didn’t get the job. I know that for a fact.”
His jaw clenches as he stares at the carpet in front of us.
“Why would you want this job?” I ask.
“I want to learn what to do and take over Anderson Media.” He pauses. “So she doesn’t have to work so hard.”
I stare at him.
“She does enough.” He scuffs his shoe on the carpet. “I don’t want her to have to worry anymore.”
My heart drops. “You think you have to protect your mother?”
“I don’t think it; I know it.” He stands. “It’s okay.” He exhales deeply. “I won’t waste your time.”
He’s right; he does have to protect her. She’s worth protecting.
I watch him for a moment, and I hate to admit it, but I’m strangely impressed by his loyalty to Claire.
“Sorry about your ankle,” he says.
“Are you really?”
“Nope.” He stares at me. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same if you found someone’s underwear in your mother’s bag.”
“No, actually, I wouldn’t,” I mutter dryly. “Because . . . I’m not psychotic.”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He walks toward the door.
“Intern interviewees usually shake my hand,” I call after him.
“Not this one.” He turns and leaves. The door clicks quietly behind him.
I stare at the door he just left through for a moment, and then finally I push the intercom. “Sammia, send in the second interview, please.”
“Sure thing.”
My eyes drop to look at the interview-rating-system sheet in front of me, and I exhale heavily. How the fuck do I even rate that?
I stare at my computer screen. It’s been five days since I interviewed the three finalists. Five days of me fighting myself over who I want to hire.
Rebecca is fantastic. She would be an asset to any business, and I will be offering her a position regardless of whether she gets this role.
Joel, the other candidate, was perfect on paper. His psychometric testing was spot on, and he blitzed every question with a practiced perfection.
Then there was Fletcher Anderson. He didn’t even want to do the interview. He wouldn’t shake my hand and near fucking killed me with barely an apology. He’s crazy and wild and everything I don’t have the time or energy to train.
He also had more passion in his little finger than the other two had combined.
No matter how hard I try to talk myself out of it, he’s the one I keep going back to. He’s the one with loyalty to family, albeit. . . mishandled. Media is in his blood, and he has a real opportunity to take over Anderson Media one day as the CEO . . . that’s if the company holds out that long. I know it will. Claire’s got this. With his passion and tempe