True Love. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
by your father, Alan Chenault, thirty-five years ago, and how he transformed it from a corner store operation into a relatively neat and tidy electronic company. Unfortunately, he lacked vision, which is evident in his failure to tap into numerous domestic and international markets." She paused, giving him her best businesslike, professional look. Although she had just openly criticized what had been his father's narrow strategy for running the business, it had been the absolute truth. "However, I believe what I know about your present-day operation is what I'd like to address."
At his nod, she continued. "Under your leadership, Mr. Chenault, this company has emerged as a powerful force within the global economy. Your expansion into the overseas market is phenomenal, as well as timely. Sales for this year are expected to exceed thirty million. You've even gone one step further. You've capitalized on the failures of your competitors-who can't see the advantages of putting out new products and diverse technology-especially in the development of total wireless communications and advanced electronics that will ultimately replace the need for electrical outlets throughout the world."
When she stopped talking, a slow smile touched Nicholas Chenault's lips. "Please go on," he said, not hiding the fact that he was clearly impressed with her accurate summation of his company.
"Chenault Electronics was the first to deploy a wireless telephone network in Benin, Africa. This helped to provide the first telephone service in the area, providing a long overdue means of communication to hundreds of remote customers."
Feeling confident that she had the interview under control, Shayla relaxed. She was more determined that ever to convince the man sitting across from her that she was everything his company was looking for.
Nicholas Chenault was impressed with Shayla Kirkland's wealth of knowledge about his company. To say that she had done her homework and was fully prepared would be an understatement. So far they had been in the interview for over an hour, and each question had been answered in a way that definitely displayed her knowledge and her intelligence. She was now expounding on her educational background.
It was a good thing he'd already done a number of interviews that week, so that it required little thought-his mind was focused on the woman.
He glanced down at the notes he had jotted down on the evaluation form. The first category listed on the form was appearance. He'd written neat, dresses with good taste, professionally. He glanced back up to look at her and decided not to add that the fit of her navy blue, tailored, business suit was chic, precise, and enticing. Then there was her hair-short, black, and cut in a trendy style that didn't take away from her professional image. Her almond-colored skin had a light touch of makeup. The berry tone of her lips highlighted the glow of her cheeks and the sultry, dark, brandywine coloring of her eyes. Nicholas inhaled deeply, forcing his mind to concentrate only on those of Shayla Kirkland's assets that were important in terms of employment.
"Ms. Kirkland, why did you move back to Chicago?" he asked, trying not to notice her crossing her long gorgeous legs. Nicholas had to tighten his grip on the pen he held in his hand to keep his imagination from taking over.
"My mother passed two weeks ago, unexpectedly. Now that I'm here, I feel this is where I belong, and have decided to stay."
The deep sadness in her voice gripped Nicholas. "My condolences for your loss."
"Thank you."
Nicholas decided to move on to the next interview question. "Tell me about some of your other achievements, and how they can benefit us here."
When she began speaking, he couldn't help but zero in on her poise. She was definitely at ease, composed, and had a self-confident manner. She wasn't hesitant in providing eye contact. The dark coloring of her eyes was compelling and magnetic, and he found his gaze pulled back to them time and time again. He couldn't help wondering what color her eyes were when they glowed with passion and inner fire. How would they look when they became heated with pleasure?
"Ms. Kirkland, what do you see in this position of manager of international affairs that you did not have in your last position?" he asked in an effort to keep his mind on track.
As she began answering, he glanced down at the evaluation form. The next category on the list was personality. As he sat there watching her and listening to her, there was no doubt in his mind that she would be a perfect fit for his company. If first impressions were to be believed, she was friendly, but not overly so. That was good, because she was a single woman of twenty-six-a very attractive one at that-and he had a number of single men working for him. The last thing Chenault Electronics needed to deal with was a sexual harassment lawsuit.
After asking her a few more questions, for which she provided concise and informative answers, he leaned back in his chair and said, "That ends your interview, Ms. Kirkland. Is there anything you'd like to ask me about the position?"
"No, Mr. Chenault. You've told me everything I needed to know. However, I'd just like to add that I believe I can be an asset to your company."
Nicholas nodded, thinking that she could be an asset in a number of ways. He stood. "This was a very pleasant interview, Ms. Kirkland. I hope to make a decision within a week."
Shayla stood and offered him her hand. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to interview with your company. Good day, Mr. Chenault."
Nicholas walked her to the door, then stood and watched as she walked away. He let out a deep breath, thinking that everything about Shayla Kirkland was real class, even her walk. The graceful sway of her hips was enough to bring a comatose man back into the world.
Walking back to the desk, Nicholas sat down and looked over the evaluation form. Her communication skills were superb. She had expressed herself eloquently. Her answers had been clear, fluid, and organized, and her information had been accurate and informed. Her educational background was outstanding-an MBA from Harvard-and her fluency in four languages-Chinese, Spanish, French, and Swahili-was more than impressive. Her letter of recommendation from Howard University spoke volumes, and nearly glowed on the page.
He sighed, knowing he didn't have to cover the other categories of the interview evaluation form to know that Shayla Kirkland was the ideal person for the new Chicago office. She would definitely bring a lot of experience and diversity to the table. He would be a total fool not to hire her.
Yet he was contemplating that very thing.
Nicholas stood and walked over to the window. Since buying this building six months ago, he had decided he liked the location because it provided a stunning view of downtown Chicago. The metropolis was totally different from downtown Jacksonville, Florida, where his home office was located. Here in Chicago, the buildings surrounding his were tall and impressive, but the areas surrounding those structures were crowded and congested. One of the things he appreciated most about the location of his office building in Jacksonville was the beautiful view of the St. Johns River and the land space that came with it. Jacksonville had more land space than any other city in Florida. And with the revitalization plans the city had underway, it wouldn't be long before downtown Jacksonville boasted structures that were just as tall and impressive, a scenic river view that would continue to be breathtaking, and surrounding buildings that would still provide space.
Space was something he appreciated more than anything, especially personal space, which was why he was thinking seriously about not hiring Shayla Kirkland.
For the first time since taking over Chenault Electronics after his father's death three years ago, he had been totally captivated by a woman. He had definitely not expected the rush of pleasure that hit him square in the solar plexus when he'd taken her hand in his to shake it. He had been overcome with a weird feeling, and-although he had been able to downplay it and get through the interview session with Shayla Kirkland without any hint of the turmoil he'd been in-it had been there, just the same. He had noted everything about her, things he had needed to notice and things he had not-like the perfect coloring of her pantyhose against the flesh of her smooth legs, and the fullness of her lips, and how those lips seemed to have been begging for a kiss even while she was in her most professional mode. For the first time in his life he had felt cramped and closed in.
Threatened