Hot Coffee (The Hollens)

Ethan Hollen's POV

Who puts salt in coffee? Should I regret ever hiring Miss Cole?

My heart had felt her pain when she came to my office for the interview. For a young woman she had already experienced a very difficult life. My grandmother had taught me when someone is down in life it is not wise to throw more bricks at them, but, instead, it would be wise to help them up. Growing up, I rarely saw both of my parents. They were usually busy traveling on business deals, vacations, and having holiday celebrations without me. I'd been forlorn, but my grandmother took me under her wing and grew me up as the man she felt I ought to be. 

I had been looking at Emma in the kitchen while she made my coffee. She was very slim and all she wore were big clothes that looked like rags. Her face was always the same, no makeup or lipstick to pop her facial features. Yesterday she'd spilled the coffee all over the floor in my bedroom. I noticed she had remade it, but I wasn't in the mood anymore. That was the start of a crappy day-- I was angry with everyone in the office.

Today she delivered my coffee, again, and it tasted of pure salt. Salt! Was she doing this to me on purpose because I yelled at her yesterday? Who cared, I was the damn boss and she startled Sharon. My beautiful fiancee was wondering what kind of fool I had hired.

I continued dressing while looking at her on the CCTV. Was she remaking a coffee for herself? I laughed as I saw her spit it out in the sink and rinse out her mouth with water. She stared at a bottle of milk then emptied the contents into the sink and disposed of the container.

What was wrong with that milk? I wondered, but I was already running a bit behind. I finished getting ready, took my briefcase and headed out. I called Jermery, one of my personal drivers, since I wasn't in the mood for driving. I hadn't had my caffeine and my brain was swirling.

I arrived at my tower twenty five minutes later. I had two more people coming in for interviews. I sat at my desk and remembered the lie I told Emma about the position already being filled, and the episode I had with her and the coffee.

tall blonde woman walked in with a skirt above her knees that hugged her a bit too tight. The shirt she wore wanted to be set free from those engineered boobs bursting out of

experience in this role before or a role similar to this?" I asked after

a smile came over her red velvet caked lips, "I don't have the experience, but I'm willing

was holding the tip of her pen to her lips, and I got the distinct impression that she was flirting with me. I was not one of those guys who would mess around with some bimbo just because she wanted a job. Women like that could put you in a very dangerous position, and not in a good way. They could ruin your image, tarnish the name of your company,

exactly thirty seconds to

thick false eyelashes, opened wide with

I thought to myself, shaking my

was worse. She had to about eighty percent plastic: her boobs, butt, facial features. She was dark in complexion but had on a blonde weave or a wig, or whatever that long straw-thing was, blue lips, blue nails, and a blue dress to complete her already

women, but they did it to themselves. For Pete's sake, you're coming to an interview, not going to a strip club. One is supposed to look professional and to be professional. I had standards, and I was not dropping them for anyone, especially those type of women.

 Suddenly, I caught myself. What

had seen

____

perfume. I immediately claimed her lips and pulled her onto me on the chair. She let out a moan as I trailed kisses along her neck; I stopped

she asked