Shared by the Sexy Billionaire Twins

The waiting room was crowded. Mia Eaton wasn't sure where to sit. She didn't really want to get into anyone else's personal space, but she didn't have much of a choice. The receptionist barked at her, "I said you can take a seat."

Mia turned and smiled at her, having heard her the first time, but still pondering where to sit. Finally, she decided to take the chair between a large busted blonde and an older brunette who looked as nervous as Mia felt. It was a tight squeeze because the chairs were so close together. With her small build, it was easy to wedge her way in, but it was still uncomfortable. She sat with her legs squeezed together, her meager resume clutched tightly within the leather binder she'd borrowed from her neighbor, praying one of the girls sitting next to her was called back soon.

"Linda McKay!" a short woman with a severe haircut shouted from the door next to the receptionist. An attractive redhead sitting across the room stood up and walked to the door her head held high as if she had plenty of experience applying for secretarial positions and knew exactly what to expect. Mia sucked in air. She did not.

In fact, she'd never had any sort of secretarial job before at all. She'd dropped out of college after finishing her sophomore year to take care of her sick mother. She'd had to support both of them, too, and she'd done that by working as a cashier at a gas station near their home in a suburb of Chicago. But now that her mother had passed away, and Mia had sold everything in order to afford the first few months of rent on a small apartment, she knew it was now or never.

She had been on a few interviews but not for secretarial positions. Just a sales and a custodial position she almost hoped she didn't get. She knew she wouldn't be able to sell water to a man dying in the dessert, and she wouldn't want to clean up after the residents in the nursing home either. No, as badly as she needed a job, she sort of hoped it wouldn't be any of those.

Secretarial work seemed easy enough. She'd been a marketing major in college, before she'd been forced to drop out. She'd done well in her classes, so when she'd seen there was a secretarial opening at Whitaker and Whitaker Marketing Firm, she'd called right away. That was yesterday. They'd told her to be there at 3:00 today, and she'd arrived at 2:45. As many people as there were in the waiting room, she wondered how long it might take. Apparently, she hadn't been the only one told to be there at that specific time.

It didn't take long for Linda McKay to come back out. She didn't look nearly as confident walking back this way as she had when she was headed in. A few seconds later, the severe woman was back. "Bridgette Duncan!" she yelled.

The girl a few chairs down from Mia stood. She was wearing a very short skirt, and the top three buttons of her blouse were unbuttoned. She had on heels that had to be at least six inches high and pencil thin.

She didn't even make it over to the door before the woman looked her up and down and said, "No."

Bridgette stood there for a second, as if she couldn't quite believe her ears, but then she turned and slunk away. The woman shut the door, and Mia sucked in air, wondering what the woman done wrong. Had it been the outfit or something else?

Mia definitely wasn't wearing an outfit like that, though her clothes were nothing to be proud of. The beige skirt had been her mother's, and it was a size or two too big. Mia had safety pinned it earlier that morning when she'd left her apartment. It seemed to be holding up even though she'd spent a great deal of time at a coffeeshop trying to find other places to apply. The white button down shirt she wore was her own, but she'd had it for a few years, and it was a little stretched. Still, she thought she looked nice. She'd touched up her makeup and brushed out her long black hair before she rode up to the sixty-ninth floor on the elevator.

"Sandy Wilcox!" the woman shouted, the door hardly open this time.

The blonde next to Mia got up, giving her a small amount of room for a moment, but then another girl walked in, checked with reception, and came to sit next to Mia, causing her to tense up again.

A few people were staring at their phones, but Mia was too nervous to let go of her binder. Her bag was by her feet, and all she could think about was the worn spot on the leather toward the zipper. She almost didn't realize her name was being called until the woman said it again. "Hello? Mia Eaton? Anyone?"

"So sorry," Mia said, shaking her head as she grabbed her belongings and stood, almost dropping her binder. She pulled her purse over her arm and tucked the binder under her arm and approached the door, certain she was about to be sent out the door like that poor woman in the stilettos.

Severe Haircut looked her up and down, huffed, and gestured for her to follow behind.

Mia took a deep breath and went through the door, praying she hadn't already ruined her chances before she even got to the interview.

"My name is Veronica Smithers. I'm Mr. Whitaker's personal assistant. I do most everything for him. It is important that whomever fills this position realizes that it isn't just about answering phones and sending correspondence. You may be asked to perform any sort of task throughout the day, some you could easily think of, such as making coffee or running to the nearest coffeeshop. Others may never cross your mind until the question is raised." Veronica turned and looked at her, and Mia nodded, feeling pricks of ice radiate through her veins as she attempted to decipher what that might mean.

They were walking through a vast space of cubicles and offices with people working in groups, pairs, and all alone, but Mia was struggling to keep up with Veronica and hardly had a chance to look around her. Eventually, they reached a small office, and Veronica walked in, stepping behind an organized desk with a huge stack of papers on it. She gestured for Mia to take a seat, which she did, and that's when she realized the papers were all resumes.

Veronica thrust her hand foreword, clearly wanting something. Still stunned by the enormous stack of applicants, Mia was confused. She looked at Veronica's open palm and then up to her eyes. "Resume?" the woman said, practically rolling her eyes at her.

"Of course. I apologize. I'm a little nervous." Mia fumbled for the zipper on the side of her leather portfolio case. It snagged, stuck, and nearly broke. She took a deep breath, tried to smile, and tried again, catching her nail and ripping it. The sting wasn't as bad as the embarrassment. Veronica was growing impatient.

The third try was the charm; she managed to get her portfolio open and work the single page resume out, handing it over with what she hoped was a confident smile. Compared to the page on the top of the stack, it looked as if Mia had never worked before. The other girl's resume was nearly full and looked well-organized. Mia had put hers together the afternoon before in the library and printed it for ten cents on the high quality library copy paper.

It only took Veronica a moment to look over the resume. She sat it aside. "What are your strengths?"

"Well, I, uh... love marketing," Mia began, smiling and hoping she could get her nerves under control. "I studied it in college. I'm a hard worker. I'm always pleasant. Easy to get along with."

"Uh huh. And other than your complete lack of any work experience even remotely related to the secretarial field, what are your weaknesses?"

Doing her best to disregard the low blow, Mia kept her smile in place. "I am very trusting, which is sometimes seen as gullible," she admitted. "I do have a bit of a problem with distractions from time to time, though it's nothing I can't work through." She looked Veronica in the eyes and knew there was no way she was getting this job. Mia blew out a long breath. "But... as you mentioned, I've never done secretarial work before. I can type fast and accurately. I'm very friendly on the phone, and I'm willing to learn."

"I take it you'd finished answering my question about your weaknesses before that last part."

Veronica looked annoyed that Mia had strayed from her initial question. "Yes, ma'am. I apologize."

"Uh huh," the woman said, still scowling. Her eyes flickered down the resume again, but then she looked back at Mia, seeming to study her. "If you were to get the position, when could you start?"

"Right away," Mia said with a confident nod. "I just moved here, so I don't have a job yet-"

Veronica didn't care. "And you understand that the salary is base plus bonuses you may earn for taking on additional tasks and for performance that Mr. Whitaker deems above and beyond?"

"Yes, Ms. Smithers," she said with a nod. The salary, even with no bonuses, was enough for her to pay her rent, as well as her other bills, and still put some money back each month.

Ms. Smithers cleared her throat and picked up the telephone next to her elbow. She punched the top number and waited a second. Mia wasn't sure what to do. It seemed odd she'd be calling someone in the middle of her interview.

Though she couldn't make out what was being said, it was clear a male's voice was speaking on the other end of the phone. It was a deep tenor, raspy, gravelly. Mia crossed her legs and tried not to twist her long black hair around her finger.

"Yes. Thank you," Veronica said and hung up the phone. "You may go."

Mia was shocked at such a quick dismissal. Granted, she'd seen the other women coming and going so quickly, she'd been shocked Veronica had kept her this long.

"Please, Ms. Smithers, if you give me a chance-"

"You. May. Go!"

"Yes, ma'am." Realizing there was nothing else she could do, Mia gathered her bag and tucked her portfolio under her arm, half wishing she could ask for her resume back so she wouldn't have to waste another dime getting a new one for her next interview. Clearly, this one would wither away in that immense stack of papers for a few days before it died a horrible death in the shredder. "Thank you for your time."

Veronica only nodded, and Mia got up, headed back the way she came. The only problem was, she had no idea how she got there. Since Veronica had not followed her out, she didn't know which direction to turn. She went down a hall, thinking maybe it was that way, but that ended up at a dead end. She turned back around and went the other direction, thinking she'd just ask someone when she ran right into a solid wall of muscle.

"Are you lost?"

Mia looked up into bright blue eyes, and all the breath left her lungs as she stammered for an answer. If she wasn't lost before, she was now.

"Can I help you?"

Mia knew she was staring, that the man with the gorgeous blue eyes was speaking to her, that she'd looked up after the collision but hadn't backed away, so the foot or so between them was due to him retreating while she still hadn't found her voice or her ability to move.

"Are you lost?"

"Uh... yeah," she finally managed, snapping out of it. She took a giant step backward and ran her hand through her hair. It happened to be the hand her purse was swung over, so when she did that, it swung back and forth violently before falling off of her shoulder. She caught it on her wrist momentarily, but then it fell to the floor. "Dang it!"

"Let me get that for you," he said, stooping to get it, but by then, Mia had already gone to retrieve it herself. She hit her head on his shoulder hard. "Oh, God. Are you okay?"

Wincing, Mia rubbed her head. How strong was this man that hitting her head on his shoulder was like ramming her head into a brick wall? "I'm fine."

He picked up her bag, and the two of them stood, though Mia could tell he was being careful to give her plenty of space. "Here you go."

"Thank you." She took the bag and slung it back over her shoulder, trying not to roll her eyes at how stupid she must look. It was probably a good thing that she wasn't going to be getting a job here or else she might literally run into this guy again. Or do something else stupid in front of him. "Can you tell me how to get out?"

He smirked at her, as if he could tell just how badly she wanted to get away. "I'll show you. It can be a little tricky."

"Thanks." She wondered if any of the other candidates had gotten lost and assumed they hadn't.

Following him back the way she'd come, she couldn't help but notice how nice he looked from the back. She had to pull her eyes away from his perfectly sculpted bottom when they entered the area where so many other workers were sitting. She didn't want to seem like a scumbag, but then, she'd never seen a man like this one before-not in real life-not that she could remember.

"Did you apply for a position here?" he asked as they were walking along, stopping to wait for her.

"I did," Mia admitted, coming even with his shoulder. He was at least a foot taller than her. "But I'm pretty sure I didn't get it."

"Oh? Why is that?" he asked, looking disappointed. Mia figured he was just being overly polite.

She shrugged. "The interview only took about twenty seconds. I'm probably not even qualified."

They rounded another corner, and she could see the exit now. "What position did you apply for?"

"It's a secretarial position," she said, stopping and looking down at her shoes. It was almost impossible to continue to look into his eyes without feeling drained.

"Anyone can do that," he said. "What makes you think you're not qualified?"

"I don't know. I've never done it before."

"What have you done before?"

Something about the way he asked the question made her wonder if he was still talking about work. His cologne was spicy, a hint of sandalwood blending with cedar, and she had a feeling there was a note in his masculine scent that was all him. Mia bit her bottom lip and tried to get her head together. "Uh... nothing."

"Nothing?" He lifted a dark eyebrow. Her answer seemed to intrigue him for reasons she couldn't let herself contemplate.

"Not really. I worked as a cashier at a gas station while I took care of my mom."

"Was she ill?" His tone changed to something less suggestive and more concerned.

Mia nodded. Her mother had been dead for almost six months, but she still missed her terribly. "She passed away, so I moved to the big city."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

He seemed to sincerely mean that, and Mia felt a tear coming to her eye. So many people said it but it was just something one said off the cuff, as if they didn't really feel it. She could tell by his eyes that he did. "Thank you."

A heavy silence fell over them. Mia struggled for something else to say, but there wasn't any more. He'd shown her to the exit; she wasn't getting this job anyway. She'd never see him again.

He seemed at a loss for words as well, which she guessed was out of character for him. "Well, I hope you get the job," he said with a small smile, and she almost thought he meant it.

"I appreciate that. Thank you. And thanks for showing me out." She gestured toward the door with a thumb over her shoulder.

"You bet. Maybe I'll see you around...?"

He was waiting for her name. This gorgeous, sexy man with beautiful blue eyes and the kind of grin that morphed between boy-next-door and spank you till you can't breathe wanted to know her name.

The only problem was... she couldn't remember it.

"I'm sorry-I didn't catch your name," he said, prompting her.

Too bad she hadn't grabbed that copy of her resume. It was probably on there. "My... uh...." Oh, yeah-duh-that was it. "Mia. My name is Mia."

That grin was back, the mischievous crooked one. "Mia?"

"Yes."

He stuck out his right hand, and she stared at it for a moment, wondering what sorts of things it was capable of before she slipped her tiny palm inside. His touch was light at first, but then firm and commanding as he shook her hand and electric pulses shot up her arm. "I'm Beau."

"Beau." As in beautiful, she thought to herself. "It's nice to meet you, too."

"Take care, Mia."

She smiled and then turned to go, almost smacking into the doorway but catching herself and not daring to turn and look at him again to see if he'd noticed. He had to have-she could practically feel his eyes on the back of her.

Back in the waiting room, she ignored the sighs from everyone else who likely assumed she'd been interviewing that whole time, rather than just wandering aimlessly. She couldn't help but smile, though. Even if she never saw Beau again, the encounter had been memorable. Maybe he'd get his wish, and she would come to work there. Then what? She didn't know, but she was looking forward to finding out.