"Shanna Swendson - Enchanted, Inc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swendson Shanna)

Then I realized what he'd said about the business sounding alarming. Sex slavery, I
knew it. I cleared my throat so my voice wouldn't crack and said, "Urn, what
business are you in?"

They looked at each other again. Owen said, still in business mode, "We research
and develop products that facilitate convenience for a specific population, as well as
monitor and supervise the use of our products in the public marketplace."

That didn't tell me much, other than that it didn't sound like I was going to be
shipped off to some South Seas isle to be a tribal ruler's love slave, unless that was
the population they provided convenience for. A sex slave could be a convenience.
But I didn't get that vibe here. No one would use business buzzwords to describe
sex slavery. "Like software?" I asked, hoping I was in the right ballpark.

Owen smiled and blushed. "Yes, very much like software, but our business predates
the computer industry by many decades."

"I see," I said, even though I didn't, not really. But I didn't care much what business
they were in as long as it wasn't immoral, illegal, or dangerous to me. I barely knew
what the company I currently worked for did. "And what would my role in all this
be?"

Rod leaned forward, made eye contact with me and held it for a second before he
said, "You'd be more in the administration end of things. You wouldn't have to
concern yourself with the actual products, just the running of the business itself.
You'd function in an advisory capacity to our executives."

I wasn't sure what I could advise anyone about, unless it was which fertilizer to use
on which kind of plant, how to know just when to pay the bills to maximize bank
interest while not making a late payment, or where to put commas in a memo, but I
knew the business code phrases as well as anyone did. "In other words, I'd be an
administrative assistant, like I am now."

Owen looked down at the table and shredded his paper napkin with his fingers.
"Sort of, but not really," he said.

"This particular position is unique to our company," Rod said smoothly as he
flashed a smile at a tall blonde entering the coffee shop. She eyed him appreciatively
in return. I suspected he'd have her phone number before she left. He returned his
attention to me. "It's difficult to describe this position, although it does involve some
of the usual administrative functions. But believe me, this is a job you were bom for.
You'll never find another job that so uniquely suits your abilities."

"But how do you even know what my abilities are?" Only then did I remember the
resume in my briefcase. This wasn't going like any other job interview I'd ever been
on. "I do have a resume with me," I said as I bent to retrieve it. "Sorry, but I only
made one copy."
Rod took it from me, skimmed over it absently, then handed it to Owen, who
studied it more intently. "You certainly have an impressive record," Rod said, "but
that's not why we want you. We've already thoroughly screened you and determined