sundown | FRABLE

[Nathan has a reputation, like most men in his position. He's ruthless, he's strategic, he makes risky moves and he fucks his assistants. They rarely leave on bad terms. Normally it's a promotion that takes them away from him. He likes to build them up and set them free.

It's how his executive officer won her position. They don't fuck anymore. She's married now, those days are in the past. All that's left of that relationship is an unwavering loyalty and a very careful approach to how she staffs his office. Thus far, she's been incredibly adept at securing women who are ambitious, clever, productive and very interested in casual sex. It's all he has time for, so in his view it makes sense to combine the role of assistant and fuck-buddy. So long as he's only furthering their career and not dragging them down with his proclivities.

What he has yet to realise is that he doesn't have as good a sense for it as his E.O does. Increasingly, he's interested in women who are harder to win over. Increasingly, his interviews are about grilling girls to see how they respond. He's a lawsuit waiting to happen, so he's been quietly left out of the process the last few times. Perhaps that's why the position is open once more.

He's not supposed to be in the office for this round, so both he and his E.O share a confused look as he strides past unfamiliar, nervous women. He quickly evaluates the situation, then the girls. Then he's taking his E.O's notebook from her and reading it. He disregards the running order, he beckons for the pale girl with the long legs.]

You're up.

[He holds open the door of his office for her. He'll shut it before the E.O can join them.]

What's your name?

Threaded | Flat

[ This isn't Francesca's dream job. Growing up, she never saw herself working at a security firm.

However.

The opportunity isn't one she's going to pass up willingly, to embellish her resume. Not when Psimitar Corp is one of a few leading in the industry. Arguably, it's at the helm. She knows the founder and CEO's reputation, and how quickly he took over the scene once he decided he wanted to. Allegedly.

She could have asked Anthony to secure her this job interview, but she doesn't. She might have asked her fiancé, but she has the keen feeling he wouldn't understand the desire. He'd see it as a whim, probably an unnecessary one.

She doesn't know if it's her name that gets her foot in the door, but she's sitting, quelling the pit of nerves in her stomach, rehearsing what she is going to say, when the whole plan goes topsy-turvy.

She wasn't supposed to be next. She wasn't even supposed to go after that. But a man with broad shoulders, in a dark suit decides otherwise.

She gets to her feet, takes in a small breath, and follows him in with only a glance back at his EO. Looks like neither of them she thrilled about this change.

Her face is schooling itself when she turns toward him, but he's already passing her for the chair behind a wide desk. Her eyes cut around the room, before --

Her name. Her painted mouth opens -- closes. A tic pulls at the corner, a tick of a second passes, before she responds, sliding into the chair across from him. ]

Francesca, sir.

[ First name only. Bridgerton isn't a common name, by any means. For however prolific her parents were, her father was a single son to a single son. A Bridgerton in their twenties can only be one of those. ]

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