Ann: A Love Story Ch. 25

When we'd finished, he introduced me to a hired consultant named Mr. Jensen, who made it a point to not tell me his first name. I could tell it was a decision he made to try and make me uncomfortable. In fact, that seemed to be the entire purpose of his being. He interviewed me for a half-hour, and he seemed to spend the entire time being a dick. He'd ask inane questions and tried to agitate me when I gave him polite, thought out answers. Finally, he stopped and left abruptly, leaving me alone in a room for 10 minutes while I sat patiently and stared at the empty white wall facing me.

Jensen returned, handing me a personality profile to complete, telling me I had an hour, but asking me for my watch before he left. I knew better than to even look for a clock. "Why else would he take the watch?" I thought to myself. There wasn't going to be one.

It was a grueling 'test' where I had to answer about two hundred questions about myself. The idea was to determine my 'management style', which is a polite way of finding out if I was a prick or a people pleaser. Staying in character, I checked answers that made sense for Bond. Most would have been my answers anyway, but there were several where I answered more as Bond than as Neil. But they came to me confidently, and I didn't worry about it.

I got through all the questions before the hour was up, and I put the pen down on the table. Almost immediately, Jensen walked through the door. I wondered how he could have timed that so perfectly. It seemed way too coincidental. I casually glanced around the room, and noticed that the small mirror that I had seen when I first walked in was one of the two-way variety. He had been watching me the entire time. As an 'Agent', I kicked myself for not being more attentive, and vowed I wouldn't be so careless again.

"Finished?" he asked with his deep voice.

Making a quick decision, I said, "You already know the answer to that, Mr. Jensen. You've been watching me the entire time. Tell me, which is more important? How I answered the questions, or how I acted while I was answering the questions? Which is the REAL test?"

Jensen grinned. "Very perceptive, Mr. Thomas. You're the first person to figure that out."

"Well, unless you want them to know in the future, you might want to wait a little bit before coming into the room."

"Actually, I do that deliberately to see if they figure it out. That's also part of the profile study. And to answer your question, I look at both how you answer the questions, and how you act while you're doing it. The two go hand in hand."

"Interesting. I hope I didn't disappoint."

"Well, I don't know how you answered yet, but you passed the visual test with flying colors. Tell me, is my coming into the room so fast what gave me away?"

"No. It just confirmed it. You also might want to move a little less behind the mirror," I said, bluffing on that part, but he bit.

"I thought I was still. You never showed your hand that you knew I was watching."

"Why would I show my hand when you're going to such great lengths to hide yours?"

He smiled again and said, "Well said."

"What's next?' I asked.

"We'll take you to lunch, then you'll need to go for a physical and a drug test. Then there will be a couple more interviews."

"A physical and a drug test, then more interviews? Isn't that a little backwards?"

"Not necessarily. We do the clinic work since we brought you all the way out here. We can't do that after you leave. Is there a problem?"

"No...just seemed backwards. I figured you'd do all the interviews, then send me for the other stuff on my way out of town."

"We've had a couple of people skip out. Obviously the drug test was a problem for them. We don't want to waste the time of the other people who you'll interview with if you're going to run away."

I nodded. I could see they'd learned from their mistakes. Paying for drug tests and physicals had to be expensive. But so was flying people across the country to interview. This was a company that wasn't taking any chances, and that made me feel good about them. I did find it funny that Ann had used drugs as one of the things this 'illegal' company was involved in, and I had to go be tested. But in my Bond mind, it was the perfect way for them to cover for themselves. I was really enjoying myself, pretending to be Bond, even while I was actually interviewing for a real job. It certainly took some of the stress out of the process.

Mr. Jensen and I walked out of the room, to the front area of the offices. We stood there for a couple of minutes, when Evans and Carol came out of his office. She had her purse and her keys, and a big smile on her face.

"How'd it go, Roger?"

"Very good Andy. Neil figured out the mirror."

"Wow! That's a first, isn't it?"

"Absolutely. I'll check his answers while you take him to lunch."

"Actually, I've had a change of heart on that. Neil wanted a woman to give him some insights about the area, and I thought that was a good idea. This is a move for him and his fiancée, and they need to be comfortable with it. I've asked Carol to take my place. She can take my slot in the interview process. I trust her judgement...and he's still got the meet with Jeff and Pete. We should be fine."

"Well, I'm not sure that's so wise. Miss Shade hasn't been trained to interview."

"She can handle it Jensen. She's got a great feel for people, and that's really what this is all about. She and I've already talked about this. You go do your nerd work. I'll trust her judgement over what some psychoanalysis mumbo jumbo says any day of the week and twice on Sunday."

I was a little surprised that Evans was dressing down Jensen in front of me, but he was sticking up for Carol and his decision. I admired that. I also was very surprised that he was giving up an opportunity to grill me in an interview. Turning that over to Carol could either have been a big advantage to me, or I was going to be the guinea pig on the bad end of a poorly conceived experiment. Looking at Carol, though, it was hard to imagine she was the bad side.

I put out my elbow, and said, "Shall we go?"

Carol placed her well-manicured hand inside my arm. "I'd be happy to."

We walked out to Carol's car, and I laughed as she went to hit the fob to open the doors.

"What's so funny?"

"Mine's red," I said, looking at her new white Nissan 300 ZX, the same model as mine.

"Your what is red?" she said with an arched eyebrow.

"My Nissan. Do you like yours?"

"I love it. I just wasn't sure if you were talking about the car, or something else."

"No...that would be either white, or purple, depending on the circumstances."

"And what color is it now?"

"In between. There are lots of shades, Miss Shade. Just like you with your blushing."

"I'm not used to someone coming on to me as strong as you seem to be."

"I'm not coming on to you. I'm just talking. You can perceive it anyway you want to."

"Right. It's all on me," Carol said as I opened the door for her and she got in. We headed off, and she was silent. Surprisingly silent. I wasn't sure if she was nervous or pissed. I was trying to think of what to say to break the growing tension, when she finally blurted out, "YES!"

"Yes, what?" I said, confused.

"You're my type. I can't believe I just told you that. I'm so stupid for falling for you're whole line of bullshit."

"Carol, look...I'm..."

"Don't you dare apologize. That'll only piss me off more."

"Why are you pissed? And who are you pissed at?"

"I'm pissed at myself. I can't believe I'm even doing this. I don't even know why I talked Evans into letting me take you to lunch. I don't even know you. Here you are, some strange guy from the Midwest, and I'm driving down the road with you in my car telling you that you're my type. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"First of all, I prefer to think of myself as a stranger to you. Not 'strange'."

Carol cracked a smile and said, "Sorry."

"It's okay. I just wanted to clarify. I don't want to be categorized incorrectly when I'm trying to get a job. Especially now that you're one of the interviewers."

"Yeah, that's a joke. I'm not sure Mr. Evans takes me seriously."

"Sure he does. He never blinked when I told him what a great choice he made in hiring you. He knows he's got a gem."

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely. Why would I lie?"

"To get a job," she said with a smile

"Carol, I didn't know when I started talking to you this morning that you would be the one taking me to lunch instead of Evans. Frankly, I didn't know anyone would take me to lunch. I've never done this before."

"Done what...flirted with a woman?"

"No...I've done that before."

"Really? You could have fooled me," she said sarcastically.

"No...seriously. I've done that a lot. I know I may seem like I'm new at it, but I do know how to flirt," I said, making her laugh. "I've never had an interview like this before. Now, as I was saying, everything I've said, I've meant. It's all the truth. There's no sense in lying, because it can only bite me in the ass."

"So, everything's true. Even your fiancée thinking about women, and being okay with you're trying to pick up women?"

"Well, that's a subject she and I have danced around. I really don't know, but she brought it up. And I'm not sure you're her 'type', but only because I don't know if she knows what her type would be when it comes to women. I get the impression that she'd leave that up to me. So, naturally, that would include you."

"And why would that include me? I'm not bisexual."

"Because you're just as Bi-curious as Ann is, and because I find you attractive. As for trying to pick you up, that really wasn't what I intended. I was flirting. But, if you must know...yeah, we have an unusual relationship. I'm not saying she'd be jumping up and down, excited. But, it's in character with what she set up this weekend."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It's a really long story," I said.

"Do you really think I'm attractive?"

"Yes, I do. Of course, it could seem that you're vain too, based on your question. But I'm not saying for sure, since you are the one interviewing me right now."

Carol blushed again as she pulled the Nissan into a steak house parking lot.

"The have a great buffet here. You'll love it," She said, bouncing out of the car in excitement.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The lunch was fantastic, and the company was scintillating. Carol was engaging, but a little guarded about her personal life. I learned a lot about the area, though, and I knew that she and Ann would likely hit if off if given the opportunity. Not necessarily from a sexual standpoint...that was a complete unknown, and I was sure Ann was just thinking about it. Actually being with another woman was something different entirely.

Carol and I spent a lot of time flirting, and it wasn't just me. While she wasn't talking about herself, Carol had at least loosened up. The beer might have had something to do with it. I was surprised she ordered one. I didn't, knowing I had a physical and a drug test to take. But she was feeling good, and she gave me the impression she was thinking about feeling better.

My flirting was verbal. Most of Carol's was more of the physical variety. She loved to touch...herself, and me. She'd stroke her face, or move her body to accentuate a situation. And her green eyes were amazing. They gave off all kinds of signals. She was also big on touching my hand or my arm lightly, on the pretense of making some point that I didn't really care about.

As our conversation grew bolder, so did she. Her shoe had 'innocently' come off midway during the lunch, and she was using it to her advantage. She was just rubbing it every so often against one or the other of my calves. I wasn't complaining, but I was becoming as uncomfortable as my cock. She could tell by the way that I was trying to adjust myself in my seat, and teased me about it.

"Cramped, are we?"

"Well, there's very little room there to begin with."

"Bragging?" she said as she arched her eyebrow again.

"No. Just trying to be honest in my interview."

"Sounds like bragging to me."

"There's no sense in bragging. Again, I have nothing to gain by lying."

"Sure you do. You're trying to get into my pants."

"No...I'm just talking. How you decide to respond is really up to you. Plus, you're not wearing pants, Carol. And if you were like my fiancée, you wouldn't be wearing panties, either."

"So, she's kinky, is she?"

"She can be. But in this case, she'd say it was being practical. I don't wear underwear a lot of the time for the same reason. It just gets in the way."

"Interesting. How about now?"

"I'd really be hurting if I was. It's looking like a smarter choice all the time."

"Seems a little risky to me."

"It is. That's the fun of it. Haven't you ever done something like that with your boyfriend?"

Carol's expression changed. I hit a nerve I didn't know was exposed. She took a deep breath and said, "I'd rather not talk about my personal life."

I'm not sure how, but I knew right away. Maybe there's some kind of connection that happens between people who've been in the same situation. They know, without knowing how they know, but it's there. And the bond between those who've survived the same storms in life is strong.

"I'm divorced too, Carol," I said, staring into her eyes.

"What? How..." she said, stunned at my revelation.

"My ex fucked around on me, several times. It was ugly, and painful, and I went through what seemed like an eternity being depressed. It took me over fifteen months to get my life back on track. And that happened just a month or so ago. I've just gotten back to being me again."

Carol gave me a why smile. "Mine's been final for over a year...and I still have trouble thinking about dating."

"I did too. That's why I started out just fucking."

Carol laughed, until she saw that I was serious. "What, you just went around fucking to fuck?"

"Well, it wasn't as creepy as you make it sound, but yeah, I fucked to fuck. But unlike my ex, I only fucked girls where no one would get hurt in the process. I didn't start to heal until I finally accepted that it was okay to move on, and sex was the biggest part of that."

"You make it sound so simple. I wouldn't know where to start!"

"I started by finding someone my type," I kidded, a huge impish grin on my face.

Carol smiled back at me, but she didn't say anything at first. She was thinking intently. I wasn't sure at the time, by my gut told me she was trying to work up her courage. That surprised me, since I had just been flirting. I really wasn't trying to get into her pants...or her skirt. I was flirting more as Bond would do, but my goal was to be clever and funny.

We ate for a little bit, and I wondered if the playful mood had been killed when I accidentally opened the old wound of her own failed marriage. Left to my own thoughts, mine turned to Dawn, who helped me heal while I helped her. I began the process kicking myself for not being more cautious with Carol. I thought if I had done things even a little differently, maybe I wouldn't have picked the scab on a wound that was obviously still fresh to her, even after a year.

Carol was playing with her food as much as she was eating it. Looking up from her plate, she gave me a sweet smile. I smiled back, but said nothing. I didn't know what to say after where I'd left the conversation. In my head, it was her turn. If she wanted to talk business, that was fine with me. I'd said all I was going to say in the flirting department. I didn't want to risk hurting her any more than I felt I already had. Carol put her fork down and wiped her mouth with her napkin, and then set it on the booth seat beside her.

"Neil, were you serious?"

"Yes. About what?"

She tilted her head a little and gave me a playful sneer. "Come on. Really, were you serious?"

"Yes, Carol. I've been serious about everything I've said. But about what specifically?"

"About Ann. It's Ann, right?"

"Yes. It's Ann. What about her?"

"Do you think she'd really like me?"

"I know she'd like you. What's not to like? You're great."

"I mean...sexually? Do you think she'd really want to...with me?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I'd like to think so. She'd do it if I told her to."

"What's that supposed to mean? You'd force her?"

"No. Definitely not. Look Carol, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have said anything. It's hard to explain. It's...just a little complicated."

"Give me the short version," she said, cradling her beautiful face in her hands as she put her elbows on the table. Her foot resumed it's wandering up and down my lower leg, and the sparkle returned to her eyes.

She was back in a good mood, and I didn't want to give her cause to swing back the other direction. So, I gave Carol the short version she asked for, attempting to describe my relationship with Ann. Carol listened intently, and asked questions. I had to include Tina in the discussion, since Carol was in charge of making all of my original travel arrangements...she knew I wasn't alone. I did my best to answer them. I even circled around to what I'd asked earlier, but made sure I was more careful.

"I was trying to ask you if you had ever played games," I said, as I opened my coat and showed her the holster.

Her eyes flew open, and a panicked look came over her.

"Relax, Carol. It's a toy. Ann came up with this idea that I needed to be bold in order to put my best foot forward for the job. She knew I'd never been through an interview before. And she's got this very active imagination that really excites me. I'm wearing this because I'm supposed to be James Bond."

"James Bond?"

"Yes. She knows I love the movies. And she has this way of doing things that...well. Anyway, I'm Bond. That's why I acted the way I acted when I met you. I'm supposed to be 'thinking' like Bond this weekend. And frankly...it's working. I don't think I get past Jensen if I'm just being myself. He was a real prick."

"Wait. So, you're saying that all the flirting wasn't you?"

"No...it was. I'm just channeling his character. It's still me playing the part. I may feel more confident, and I certainly took a risk I would never have thought to take when I met you...but that didn't mean what I said wasn't me. That would be a cop out, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose."

"You suppose? Look, it's not like I if I don't get the job, I can blame it on pretending to be Bond and ask for a do over. Whatever happens, happens, and at the end of the day, I have to take responsibility for it."

"I guess you're right. And you know...that explains a lot. But I guess that it also means I'm just a Bond girl to you."

"Truthfully, yeah, I suppose you were at the start. I'm not so sure right now. I'm obviously not that good at being like Bond."

"What makes you say that?" she asked, her foot going farther up my leg, stopping at my knee.

"I've gotten too personal with you, so I've compromised myself and the mission."

"But really...that whole thing at the beginning was you 'trying' to be Bond?" she asked.

"Not in my mind. I'm just saying that as Bond, I got too close to you. Not that that's bad...it's just not Bond."

"So you're disappointed in your portrayal of Bond...because you got too close. Or is it because yet you didn't get the girl?"

"He doesn't get EVERY girl."

"Maybe it just seems that way...huh. Okay James, I'll play along" she said playfully, "I have a couple of questions."

I laughed. "Sure, go ahead."

"First of all, who am I then?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you're James Bond, then I'm obviously a Bond girl in your eyes. So, who am I? Pussy Galore, I suppose?"

I laughed. "No. That's would be Tina."