Broken Wings (The Broken Series Book 3) (8 page)

He
returned a few minutes later, fully dressed and carrying my clothes. He gave me
a quick kiss on the lips, but he backed out of reach when I tried to pull him
into the shower.

I
tried pouting.

He
laughed. “I wish I could take you up on that offer, but I have to go. Good luck
with your job interview this morning. I brewed a pot of coffee. There’s cereal,
yogurt, and power bars in the kitchen if you’d like something to eat. If you
have time, check out the gym. It’s at the end of the hall. You’re welcome to
come over and work out while I’m gone. I slipped a key onto your keychain
already. It’s blue.”

I
smiled, then blew him a kiss. “Thanks! Good luck with the prince. Stay safe.
I’ll be thinking of you.”

Rafael
grinned as he lingered just inside the door. “And I’ll be thinking of you… just
like this… hair wet… soap streaming down your breasts. You know I’ll be having
mad fantasies about taking you in that shower. You’ve got a rain check on the
car… I’m taking a rain check on this.”

I
pinned my legs together and groaned. Now I was going to be having mad fantasies
about the shower
and the car
.

Rafael
winked, then disappeared from sight.

I
quickly finished washing and conditioning my hair. I rinsed off, toweled off,
then tugged on the yoga clothes. Rafael’s bedroom still smelled like chocolate
mousse, so I pulled the comforter and sheets from the bed. I separated the
duvet from the comforter and shoved it inside the washing machine with the
sheets. Conveniently enough, his washer and dryer were located in the same spot
as mine.

I
rifled through the linen closet, searching for a fresh set of sheets so I could
make the bed for Rafael. I went to check out the gym when I finished making the
bed.

The
gym held a couple of benches, punching bags in all shapes and sizes, and a ton
of free weights. A large black mat lie in the center of the floor. The walls
were painted charcoal gray, except for the one that was completely covered in
mirrors. I took one look at the mirror and promptly added the weight room to my
list of fantasies.

The
color scheme for Rafael’s bedroom was black, gray, and red. I wandered through
the rest of the house to see what it looked like. The guy clearly favored
black. All of his leather furniture was black. His dining room table and chairs
were also black. His coffee table and end tables were chrome and glass. He had
a minimalist approach to his décor. His only artwork appeared to be black and
white photographs.

I
eyed the new key on my key chain and suddenly realized I didn’t know how to set
his alarm. I shot a quick text off to Rafael.
Is your alarm the same as
mine? Do I need to set it before I go?

Rafael
quickly called me back. “You have your own security code on my alarm. It’s the
name of the café where we first had coffee together. You can set and disarm the
alarm with that code. I can also set the alarm remotely if you don’t want to
hassle with it. Just text me when you’re coming and going, so I know when to
activate and disable it.”

I
pulled my purse over my shoulder and gathered up my dress. “I don’t want to
bother you when you’re working, so I’ll just use the security code. I remember
the name of the café. Thanks again for last night. I had a wonderful time. Oh,
and I really like the gym… your whole house actually.”

Rafael
chuckled. “Good. Hopefully, you’ll be spending a lot of time there. Let me know
how the interview goes, and good luck with Kadyn tonight.”

My
stomach turned at the thought of telling Kadyn about Rafael. “Thanks. I’ll try
to touch base later tonight.”

Rafael
disconnected the call. I set his alarm and locked the door behind me. I had to
admit it was pretty dang convenient to walk just a couple of steps over to my
place… maybe a little
too
convenient.

I
ran upstairs to my bathroom so I could apply my make-up and style my hair. I
changed into my navy blue dress suit, grabbed a padfolio from the office, and
programmed the address to Seeds for Peace into my cell phone. I grabbed a
bottle of water from the fridge as I cut through the kitchen on my way to the garage.

I
was halfway up I-395 before I realized I had forgotten coffee.
How was I
supposed to get through a job interview without coffee?
I clutched my
steering wheel as I talked myself down from a full blown anxiety attack. Thankfully,
rush hour traffic was beginning to die down.

I
was still stressing over the coffee, or the lack thereof, when I walked into
the office. I checked in with the receptionist, settled into a chair near her
desk, and texted Shae.
I’m here!

“Ms.
Stone?”

I
jumped to my feet. A gentleman in his mid-forties was approaching me. He had
dark blond hair, light blue eyes, and a trim build. He was wearing a dark gray
suit with a black and gray patterned tie. I quickly shoved the phone inside my
purse. “Yes. I’m Kristine Stone.”

He
offered me his hand. “I’m Paul Scott, the Executive Director of Seeds for
Peace. Thanks for coming in on such short notice.”

I
smiled as I shook Mr. Scott’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Scott. I really appreciate
the opportunity to interview for a position with your organization.”

He
smiled. “This way, please.”

I
follow Mr. Scott down a wide hallway. We turned into a large conference room
that was located halfway down the hall. Mr. Scott motioned toward two people
who were sitting at the conference table. They both stood as we entered the
room. “This is Cory Davis. He is the director of our CR skill building program.”
I assumed CR meant conflict resolution.

Cory
had short brown hair, bright brown eyes, and skin as black as night. He was
wearing a navy suit, with a soft blue tie. I reached for his hand. “It’s nice
to meet you, Mr. Davis.”

Mr.
Scott continued the introductions. “This is Samantha Roberts. She is the
program manager for the train-the-trainer program.”

Ms.
Roberts was petite. She had soft green eyes and jet black hair that was cut
bluntly across her shoulders. She was wearing a stylish black pantsuit. I
reached for her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Roberts.”

We
all took our seats. Mr. Scott was the first to speak. “As you know, we are
looking for someone to work in our conflict resolution skill building program. I
understand that you recently completed the Virginia Mediation Program and you are
currently enrolled in the master’s program at the Institute for Conflict
Analysis and Resolution. You come highly recommended by Dr. Sandstrom and one
of our newest employees, Shae Garlington. I can see by your resume that you
have over six years of experience doing advocacy work, and your last position
was with Senator Rockefeller.”

I
nodded politely.

He
smiled. “Your employment history and your GPA are rather impressive. I’d like
to hear why you’re interested in working for our program.”

I
glanced around the table before focusing my attention on Mr. Scott. “Shae told
me a little bit about your program, and I have spent some time on your website
familiarizing myself with your mission and your strategies. I couldn’t be more
impressed with your approach to peace-building. I believe that skill building
programs like yours are essential to bringing peace and stability to areas
embroiled in conflict. Building these skills among younger generations… people
who are likely to have the energy, passion, and open minds needed to effect positive
change in their communities… just seems like a really smart strategy. I like
that you’re teaching people how to resolve their own conflicts, and I believe
that this type of skill building will help ensure that peace is self-sustaining
and more durable in the long run. Besides, when I go home at the end of the day,
I want to know that I’ve helped someone… that I have done something to make
this world a better place. I believe this position would enable me to do that.”

Mr.
Scott nodded while scribbling on a yellow legal pad.

Ms.
Roberts looked up from her laptop. “Do you have any concerns about going into
countries that have a history of instability, conflict, and violence?”

I
took a deep breath as my eyes met hers. “Honestly?”

She
gave a solemn nod. Her fingers hovered over her computer as she prepared to
type.

I
leaned back in my seat and sighed. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I have survived
nine years of domestic violence at the hands of my ex-husband, two kidnappings,
and an attempted drowning. I am no stranger to violence, Ms. Roberts. I can
certainly relate to people who have endured it, and I’d really like to help
others avoid or at least reduce the amount of violence they’re exposed to.”

Ms.
Roberts’ hands collapsed against the keyboard. She hadn’t typed a single word. The
room fell silent.

I
fidgeted nervously in my seat. “TMI?”

Mr.
Scott chuckled, and everyone in the room relaxed. “Actually, I appreciate your
frankness, Ms. Stone. I’m sorry to hear you’ve been the victim of so much violence,
but I can see how that would shape your interests and your determination to
help others build more peaceful lives.”

The
three of them exchanged glances before Mr. Davis posed his question. “Are your professors
okay with you missing school when you have to travel for work?”

I
nodded. “Yes. My professors are very supportive of my decision to seek
employment with this organization. They’ll allow me to work on my studies
remotely when I have to travel out of country for work. With the exception of Thursdays,
my classes are scheduled from four to six. On Thursdays they run from three to
nine. This class schedule runs through the end of May. I can try to move more
classes into evening slots when summer semester begins. Is that workable for
you?”

Mr.
Scott smiled. “I don’t see why not. We try to be flexible for employees who are
working on graduate degrees. There will be plenty of occasions when you have to
put in overtime, especially when you travel out of country. It all balances out
in the end.”

I
breathed a sigh of relief. I had assumed my class schedule would be my biggest
roadblock.

“How
important is salary?” Mr. Scott inquired, leaning forward in his seat.

My
eyes widened. I hadn’t expected them to bring up salary during the first
interview. “I do have bills to pay, like anyone else, but I’d practically pay you
to work in a position like this.”

All
three of the interviewers smiled. Mr. Scott relaxed back into his chair. “Do
you have any questions for us?”

I
shrugged. “How soon can I start?”

Mr.
Scott smiled. “How soon, indeed.” Everyone laughed. “Ms. Stone, will you give
us a few minutes? You’ll find Ms. Garlington’s office three doors down on your
right. You can wait for us in there. We shouldn’t be long.”

I
stood and shook each of their hands. “I really appreciate your time and your
consideration.”

Mr.
Scott closed the door when I walked out of the conference room. I wandered down
the hall in search of Shae’s office. She was typing on her computer when I
popped my head inside her doorway. “Hey. Would you consider it a good thing or
a bad thing that my interview only lasted fifteen minutes?”

Shae
leaned back in her chair. “Wow. Fifteen minutes? I don’t know. Were they
frowning or smiling?”

I
plopped down in the chair across from her desk. “Mostly smiling.”

She
narrowed her eyes. “Did you make anyone cry?”

“No,”
I replied with a scowl.

Shae
tapped a pen against her desk. “Render anyone speechless?”

“There
was a moment of silence,” I admitted grudgingly.

Shae
raised an eyebrow, but Ms. Roberts popped her head inside the office before she
could speak. “Hey, Shae. Ms. Stone, will you please return to the conference
room with me?”

I
exchanged looks with Shae, then rose to my feet. “Sure.”

I
followed Ms. Roberts back down the hallway. When we got back to the conference
room, Mr. Scott motioned toward the same chair I had been sitting in before. “Ms.
Stone, we’d like to offer you the position.”

I
sank into the chair, completely stunned. “Really?”

“I’m
afraid we can’t afford to pay you what you’re worth. The best that I can offer
is $24,500,” he responded cautiously.

I
nodded. Shae had already warned me that the salaries were low. “Are health
benefits included?”

“Yes.
We provide health and life insurance, two weeks of vacation, ten days of sick
leave, and we match your contributions to our retirement plan.”

I
smiled. “Then I’d be honored to accept the position.”

Mr.
Scott studied me as he leaned back in his chair. “We require all of our
employees to go through a criminal background check. You can begin work while
the criminal background check is pending, but you should be aware that your
employment will be terminated if there are any problems with the criminal
background check.”