Mr. Personality Read Free Page A

here, but she couldn’t walk out without drawing attention to herself—the very thing she had to avoid.
    “Yes, go on in and sit down with the others.” Max Tucker’s voice grew clearer as he followed the last job applicant into the room.
    This was it, Nicole promised herself. No more lurking, no more waiting. When she got out of this insane situation, she’d go home…even if she had no chance to again convince Max Tucker to leave her father alone. This was so not her thing, doing a crazy stunt like this. Until now she’d been very straight-forward in trying to get him to listen.
    Yes, she’d talked herself around situations! But those situations typically involved belligerent fifteen year-olds! Of course a teen with a knife could be an ugly thing, but still….
    Please, please, please, don’t notice me! She shifted nervously.
    Maxwell Tucker stood a few feet inside the door, his face no more inviting than the first time she’d seen him when she’d lurked outside the building. In black jeans and a thin knit sweater, he was more formally attired this time, though. The sleeves of his sweater pushed up over strong forearms, he stood surveying the applicants. Thankfully, only the edge of his gaze touched her.
    He looked more annoyed than she would have expected from a man with so many blessings. In addition to his wealth and skill, he was blessed with a tall, fit body and thick, dark hair, cut close. He was a good-looking man, but his dark eyes held no satisfaction with much of anything at this moment.
    He couldn’t be all bad. Not the man who’d written such incredible prose. He must have been having a bad day.
    The man could sneer all he wanted, but he had to drop the lawsuit against her dad. One way or the other, she was getting him to listen to her long enough to realize that. She wasn’t going home without the signed release Claire suggested she get.
    Mouth firm, Max Tucker held their attention for several long minutes before finally speaking. “Did the agency tell you all what this job entails?”
    From where she sat, Nicole could see the other three women easily. Their ages ranged from twenty-two or three to somewhere in the mid-forties. Everything from “comfortable” to “sleek”. The thin, redhead on the far side of the room looked both self-assured and self-aware. For some reason, Nicole wondered if she were an actress seeking to avoid a waitressing job.
    “The employment agency was very specific about the work,” an older woman said, a smile stretching her mouth wide. “I’m sure we all understand.”
    The third woman nodded eagerly, but the actress-redhead just stared at Max Tucker with what Nicole was coming to recognize as a common New Yorker confidence tinged with contempt.
    Max scanned them again, his glance thankfully not lingering on Nicole. For some reason, he seemed both bored and dismissive. “We’ll leave your ability to understand unchallenged for the moment. First, there are several items about the work environment you must know. I both live and work here in this co-op. You, however, if I decide to hire you, will confine yourself to your work area. No wandering around, if you please.”
    By the very coolness of his tone, he seemed to convey their insignificance to him. His gaze skated over them as if he could barely be bothered to acknowledge their existence. If this was how he treated his assistants, it was no wonder the other woman left.
    He went on. “No personal calls, no complaining about the working hours and, preferably, no personal conversations. I have a deadline to meet. You owe me no information about your lives and you can have little interest in mine. We’re here to work from open to close.”
    “If you don’t mind my asking,” the redhead interrupted with no obvious discomfort, “when exactly would these working hours be?”
    “I work from seven in the morning to seven at night—“
    “Seven to seven!” the younger, non-actress applicant