Faith

Liza appeared in my doorway as I hung up the phone with a client. "You're 3:00 is here; he's waiting in the conference room."

I smile. "On my way."

Grace is much more confident in these types of situations. I stand from my desk, take a deep breath, and try my best to get my nerves under control. I grab my notes from my desktop and enter the conference room.

As soon as I enter, a tall handsome man stands up to greet me. Grace is already sitting at the table. She gives me a reassuring smile, and I instantly feel more at ease.

"You must be Lance Crawford. It's a pleasure to meet you." I take his outstretched hand.

"The pleasure is all mine." He smirks and keeps my hand a little longer than necessary.

Once he releases my hand, I quickly sit beside my sister. Something about this guy makes me feel uncomfortable.

Mr. Crawford sits and begins the interview. "I'll be taping this interview, that is, if you ladies don't mind?"

Grace and I look at each other and say, "We don't mind."

He smiles and begins to record. "With all the possibilities you two could have pursued, why advertising?"

Graced said, "It's quite simple; our father greatly influenced us. While he followed our family hotel business, he stressed how important advertising was to the business's success. I love to draw, and Faith is great with words. As children, we would make ads to advertise our father's hotel. He used every single one of them, and our family hotel business took off."

Grace pauses, so I jump in. "Our father encouraged us to use our gift. Our brother now runs our father's business, and we continue to do their advertising."

"That's an impressive story. You must have been close with your father," he remarks sincerely.

"Yes, we were," I reply, trying to control my emotions. I feel Grace's hand cover mine and squeeze it. I smile at her. It has been tough losing both of our parents so quickly and tragically.

Noticing our discomfort, Mr. Crawford moves on to the next question. "You were both born and grew up here in San Diego. Correct?"

Grace takes this question. "Yes, we did. We lived on the hotel's top floor, which our father turned into a luxury apartment. Our brother still lives there with his family."

"We had a wonderful childhood," I add.

"I bet you did; having an entire hotel as your playground must have been a blast."

I feel like he commented with a bit of sarcasm.

He continues, "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

Grace looks over at me at the same time I look her way. We shrug, and I respond, "I can honestly say I never thought that far ahead. So many things could happen in our lives in the next ten years that could impact where we end up. What I can hope is that our business will continue to grow."

Grace picks up where I left off. "I one hundred percent agree with Faith. Our parents taught us to live in the moment, to make it our business to know who our consumers are and what they want in the here and now, and to use that information to appeal to the public with our advertising. As far as ten years from now, as Faith said, we want to experience growth while continuing to give our clients our personal best."

"What about your personal life? Do you see marriage and children in the next ten years?" Mr. Crawford asks.

I'm a little taken aback by his question. "Is this a question you would be asking a man you are interviewing for this article?"

I can see that my question takes him by surprise. He stumbles over his words, "Um, I, well, it never, um, I mean..."

I interrupt him, "I think that a NO would answer that question."

Mr. Crawford looks a bit embarrassed and changes the subject. He asks us a few more questions and then wraps up the interview. I smile, knowing that putting him on the spot like that has him trying to get out of here as fast as he can.

"Thank you for your time." He stands. "I can show myself out."

Once we see him leave, Grace turns to me. "Wow, look at you speaking your mind." She smiles at me proudly.

"He was an asshole," I say matter-of-factly.

Grace laughs. "Yeah, he was." She looks at her watch. "Damn, we were in there for two hours. It's already 5:00, and my dinner meeting is in an hour. What time are you meeting the handsome Benson Easton?"

Of course, my face heats up at my sister's words. "6:30," I answer as I escape into my office. She walks away, laughing at my embarrassment.

I finished what I was working on before the interview and decided to head home at 5:30 to change for dinner and to avoid my sister's teasing. I had on a pair of slacks and a sweater. I wanted to dress a little nicer to see Benson. I enter my home and head upstairs to my bedroom, pull a few outfits out of my closet, and spread them across my bed. I want something business-like but not stuffy and not too dressy.

Looking over my options, I decide on the black pencil skirt and light-flowing, bright, multi-colored floral blouse. I step back and look at myself in the mirror. Satisfied with my choice, I returned the unchosen outfits to my closet.

I head into my bathroom and freshen up my makeup before I head down to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine in the hopes that it will calm my nerves down. My phone dings, indicating that I have a text message, and I look down and see that it is from Liza. She is reminding me of my dinner meeting. She's such a great assistant. Another text comes through, 'Don't do anything that I wouldn't do!' And there is the friend part! I quickly send her an emoji with its tongue sticking out.

I laugh, grab my car keys and head to the restaurant feeling much more relaxed.

Traffic was not as bad as I thought it would be, so I got there fifteen minutes early. I was surprised when I saw that Benson was already there waiting for me. He stands from the bench as soon as he sees me. My eyes take a quick, hopefully not too obvious look at him. He has black slim-fitting dress pants and a crisp white button-down dress shirt.

When I finally rest my eyes on his handsome face, I realize he has been checking me out, too.

"Do you know how gorgeous you are when you blush?" He says in a deep, sexy voice that gives me an ache in my center. Damn, this man. I'm left speechless, so I smile shyly at him and shake my head no.

"Well, that's a damn shame. Shall we?" He reaches his arm out, and I loop my arm around his. He nods towards the hostess to let her know we're ready to be seated.

We follow her to a private dining area. I look up at Benson with a questioning look. "I might have some pull here with the owner." He grins.

I feel that tonight will be much more than just a business meeting.

*****