Ellouise Anna Garcia Minte was the daughter of YES Communications PR Firm’s founder; she was suddenly appointed CEO three years ago at the young age of twenty-two, and rumors of her wild life and temper were rampant in reviews from company employees and customers. But I had no idea she would be sitting in on an interview for a position as insignificant as “staff assistant.”

And I never would have guessed that she’d follow me into the emergency stairwell after I failed the interview. But here we were. I barely had enough strength to hold my phone in my fingers as she approached me.

She was almost a whole head taller than I was, with clear brown skin and long black hair that hung down in subtle waves over her clavicle. Her big black pupils bore holes into mine, and my heart raced as she took another step towards me.

"Kinely . . . Kinley, you there?" my landlord's voice echoed over the phone.

She flashed a row of straight white teeth in a smile and reached over to take the cell phone right out of my hand. "I'm sorry, Miss Day isn't quite finished with her interview. She'll call you back later," Miss Minte said before before pressing the red button to end the call. Her voice was low and velvety. "Come home with me,” she said softly as if it was a secret. "I want to hire you."

It was hard to getting harder to breath as she leaned towards me, and I frantically wiped away the tears that had been dripping down my cheeks just moments ago as I talked to my friend on the phone in the stairwell. What the hell was she talking about? She couldn’t possibly mean ‘that,’ right? Was she teasing me? I tried to pull my senses back together, which felt impossible under her unwavering gaze.

“What e-exactly do you want me to do?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

She broke our eye contact just long enough to chuckle before coming back to grip my attention. She brushed the back of her fingertips across my cheek over the small stains left behind by my tears with one hand and slipped my phone back into my front pant's pocket with the other.

“Become mine,” she said. Her voice was commanding and well suited for a CEO. It was more of a demand than an offer. And I couldn't move. I was a mouse in-front of a lion. She laid her hand flat on my cheek. “I’m looking for a personal assistant, little kitten. I have some goals that I can't quite reach on my own, but I'd need your absolute discretion--also, it would be a full time, twenty four seven job, but you'd be rewarded handsomely. What do you think?”

I opened my mouth to speak, stuttering some words out. “A tw—twenty four seven job?”

“Yup.” She dropped her hand and took a step back. I felt even smaller in front of her as she straightened out her posture. “Come live with me.”

This had to be some sick joke. She must have been crazy. I looked around for an escape, but she had me trapped in a corner between to flights of stairs. “Um, I—I don’t think I can—”

She held her hand up. 

"It’s not a matter of can or can’t. I know you can. It’s a matter of will or won’t. I do believe you’re the one who only has three days to get out of your apartment before you’re evicted, are you not? You said it yourself on the phone. Now you can stand here crying about a failed job interview that was only going to give you barely enough salary to pay rent, or you can work for me directly.”

I couldn’t say anything.

“And it’s not easy for a young woman like you with no work experience and a criminal record to get a job. I’ll give you free room and board and a salary you can’t refuse.” She crossed her arms, a queen ready to swipe her opponents last pawn off the board. “This offer ends the moment I turn around. What will you do?”

She didn’t say anything wrong. I only applied to this company because they were holding blind interviews, but it was over the moment they asked me about my criminal conviction. I had already been denied from over twenty other positions and was late on my rent. But what exactly did she want from me? I didn't belong as the assistant to someone so charismatic--not to mention this seemed like some kind of trap or joke. I squeezed my hands tightly together in front of me as if I could wring an answer out of them.

A single shrug lifted her shoulders. “Okay,” she said. “If that’s what you want, good luck Miss Day.”

When she started to turn, my body moved before I could rationalize what was happening. I grabbed her wrist with both hands. “I’ll do it,” I said.

“Are you prepared to do anything I ask of you?”

I nodded. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

She smiled and held out her hand to me. I took it subconsciously, and she shook it firmly once. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kinley Day. You may call me El. I don’t care much for formalities.” She leaned down, inching towards my face.

My heart raced as she came closer. Was this woman actually--

She suddenly leaned back and scrunched up her nose. “Come with me. We’re going home. I’m sick of working today.”

And with that she took off down the stairs, expecting me to follow her without another word—let along any protests. My feet followed her, but my heart wouldn't calm down. I thought she was going to kiss me. What a scary person.

Would I really be okay going home with her?