Page 24 of Meeting Her Mate
“Great. That’s a very candid response,” Blair Beckett threw his head back and laughed. “So, what would you bring to the table, Miss Richards?”
“Well, Mr. Beckett, I’ve been balancing two jobs for the past few years. I was a waitress at Fiddler’s Diner,” I began.
“Great pastrami sandwiches. I love their selection of pies as well!” Blair said, clapping his hands.
“Yes, they do have excellent pastrami sandwiches. Our secret? We get farm-to-table fresh organic meat, and the bread’s baked in-house,” I said. “But as I was saying, I was a waitress during rush hours, allowing me to deal with stressful, high-tension situations. So, I’ll always be on top of things regardless of the situation.”
“That’s excellent. You have the motivation and drive that we’re looking for. That’s an excellent response,” Blair said, giving me two thumbs up and winking at me. “Carry on. Mark me impressed.”
“And secondly,” I said, grinning back at him. There was something about his nonchalance that made me feel very much at home—comforted, even. If this guy was going to be my boss, maybe I’d stick around town. “I worked at the wharf. There, I was in charge of entering cargo data every day and accounting for the inventory that the ships brought in. That job required me to be very good at applied mathematics. It also required a lot of computer fluency in using different software. So, I can say with confidence that I can compute large amounts of data in a small amount of time.”
“Well, a lab technician’s primary role is to take laboratory data and enter it into the software. So, I’m happy to know that you have experience with that as well,” he said, getting up from the chair. He circled the table and came face to face with me, sitting on the table’s edge. “I must say that your experience, your competence, and your educational background would allow you to go to the top if you keep at it. Maybe, in a few months, you can get promoted from lab technician to lab manager, and from there, you can try out for corporate positions. This leads me to my next question. What’s your five-year plan? Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“To be honest, I didn’t have a five-year plan before entering this room. I have not been afforded an opportunity to think in such stable terms. I’ve faced poverty most of my life, and the two jobs that I used to do, didn’t provide me with enough money to think in terms of years. I could only plan for what I’d do next week or next month. But, suppose I get this job, I would strive my hardest, make sure that I bring a hundred percent to the company, and contribute in every way I can. If it works out, I’d love to be a part of the company five years from now,” I said. I meant every word.
“That’s a very honest answer, and I appreciate your honesty,” Blair said, never breaking his eye contact, never receding his smile. It struck me a little bit odd. “Allow me to be just as honest with you.”
“Please,” I said, anticipating what he would say.
“You’re not getting this job.” The stare was a scowl now. The smile immediately departed his face, leaving him with a stony expression with pursed lips. He had thrown me such a curveball just now that I was completely confused.
“What?”
“Yes. You’re not getting this job. In fact, you’re not getting out of this office alive.”
I stood up defensively, toppling over the chair I was sitting in.
“Fighting me would be futile. Running would be pointless. That door’s locked, and it’s made of a titanium alloy. I doubt you would be able to break it…in your current form.”
My eyes turned wide with shock at what he had just said.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice quivering. I backed up against the door, trying to get as much distance between him and me.
“Well. I am as I said I was. Blair Beckett. You, on the other hand, are Alexis Richards. Orphaned in your childhood. Part of a werewolf pack that doesn’t give two shits about you. And, if I understand correctly, you’re fated mates with a man I am most interested in. What was his name? Oh, yes. Wilhelm Grimm.”
How on earth did he know all this, and what was his agenda?
“You might be thinking how I know what I know,” Blair smirked.
“No. I’ve just pieced it together,” I said. It dawned on me too late where the Beckett in Beckett Pharma came from. “You’re Edward Beckett’s son.”
“You’re sharp, but not too sharp, are you?”
“What do you want from me?” I asked as my hand rolled around the doorknob and tugged it to no avail. The door didn’t budge. He was right. I was trapped.
“The way I see it, your mate killed my father, desecrated my family home, and laid waste to everything I held dear. It only makes sense that I do the same with him. Starting with you,” he said.
“Well, your father imprisoned him and tortured him for seventy-six years!” I snapped.
“A small price to pay for attempting to evolve mankind beyond its current form, don’t you think?” Blair said calmly, taking his seat behind the table.
“Your father was a madman who abused Will. Why am I the one paying for your father’s mistakes? Why drag me into this?”
“Because I believe that hurting his mate would draw him here. Isn’t that how your bonds work? I’ll kill you in front of him, and then, in his final moments of agony, I will kill him. I believe this simple transaction equates to me getting my revenge, don’t you think?”
I started laughing. It wasn’t a mirthful laugh but a cackle derived from hopelessness and madness.
“What’s so funny?” Blair scowled at me.