Page 9 of Business Casual

“You and your team hand selected people you already knew were good candidates. So, everyone who walks into your company should be able to promise you that they can get your company more views and engagement. You wouldn’t interview anyone that you didn’t think could pull that off. But with me you’re getting someone who knows how to make sure you are reaching an audience beyond your proposed audience. I have the unique ability to know what’s going to catch someone’s eye.”

His eyes pierced me. “You certainly do.”

Something about the way he said it resonated deep within me. My body stirred and my lips parted.

Mr. Franklin held up the example of a social media account that I had worked on. The still image showed the gallery of photos before and after I worked on the account. “This is a great example of catching someone’s eye,” he exclaimed, inadvertently snapping the sexual tension between me and his son.

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Tre agreed quickly. “But what professional experience do you have with banking and finance?”

Refocusing, I cast my gaze out the window behind my interviewers and admired the view for a second. Exhaling, I flashed them both a smile.

“I’m glad you asked.” I opened my portfolio, flipping to the back. “For five years, I helped build the social presence of Capital City Bank,” I started, grateful that I decided to put the banking experience in even though it wasn’t like the rest of my portfolio. “The bank didn’t have a presence. They weren’t gaining customers over the larger banks. People didn’t know who they were. So I set out to make them a well-known banking entity and a viable option over some of the nationally recognized banking brands. Social media is a great tool, but the individual or the company needs to be social. So, my focus with Capital City Bank elevated their social presence in the community and in turn, they were able to build a social media presence.”

Both men nodded, seemingly impressed. Mr. Franklin was smiling as he jotted down notes. But I couldn’t read Tre’s expression. It was clear he was contemplating something.

Taking turns, the Franklins went through about ten interview questions with me. Although Tre remained professional in his tone and questioning, whenever his eyes dropped to my lips, I felt it. I ignored it, but I felt it.

“You are impressive, Ms. Jones,” Mr. Franklin noted, shuffling the papers in front of him. “Do you have any questions for us?”

I asked questions about the compensation, the climate, and the culture of the company. But when I asked about the ways in which they would like to see the company grow and expand, Tre’s eyes lit up. He seemed just as impressed by my question as I was by his answer. There was an ease and a confidence about him that went beyond the way he walked and the way he talked. His mind and his vision were equally fascinating.

“Wow,” I murmured, almost forgetting his father was sitting right next to him.

“I know it’s a lofty goal and may not be achievable for twenty or so years,” he added. “But if we can get more people knowledgeable about their money and investing their money appropriately, investing their money wisely within the community, we can start to see the formation of generational wealth. This isn’t just my passion project. This is my life’s work.”

“I love that,” I uttered.

The corners of his mouth turned upward slowly. “Yeah.”

Mr. Franklin cleared his throat. “Anything else you want to know?”

My eyes cut to the older man. “No, I think we’ve covered all of my questions,” I said slowly.

“Good,” he said, rising to his feet with his phone in his hand. He handed Tre his papers. “I need to take this, but it was very nice meeting you, Ms. Jones.”

“Likewise,” I returned even though Mr. Franklin had already answered his phone and didn’t give me a second look.

That’s not a good sign.My stomach lurched.Did he notice the sparks between me and his son? Is that why he ran out of here like that? Have I been dismissed before even being given a chance?

I glanced at Tre who was standing with his hands in his pockets, the contemplative expression still on his face. He watched his father until the door closed with a firm bang.

“Come see this view,” he commanded, finally breaking the silence.

I lifted an eyebrow as I got up and walked around the table. I stood beside him at the window, looking out over the garden.

“Wow. Can they see up here?” I wondered as the gardeners worked below.

“No. The tint is too dark.”

“Oh, okay.” I swept my eyes around. “It’s beautiful from this angle,” I remarked.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he replied.

When I glanced over at him, he was studying me. My stomach fluttered.

But before I could say anything, he continued. “I think you would be a good fit.”

I swallowed hard.

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