The secretary stepped out of the office and looked at the young white man in a blue suit and white shirt and matching tie who sat on the long chair across from her office desk. His name was Dennis and since he arrived here for his interview had been fiddling with his tie. He couldn’t tell if it was really straight or half bent. He’d confirmed his outlook once too many times in the mirror at his bedroom apartment and even before coming up here to the tenth floor of this accounting firm he’d gone into the men’s room and looked at it and still couldn’t feel any satisfaction at it. He hated the tie. He hated the suit that came with the tie. It was a gift from his girlfriend, Abby. She loved the way the suit hugged his body, said it made him look like a millionaire, and when he’d first worn it, he too had felt the same thing. Except now the opposite was the case. He felt like an impostor. He felt unworthy of the job he was here for and hope too that the man he was about to see would scan through his clothing and easily pick him out for a faker than a real worth. “Mr Bennings will see you now,” the secretary said to him invitingly, indicating at the door she had just stepped out from. Dennis rose up from the long chair, picked up his slim bag and once again ran his hands over his tie before walking into the office. The secretary closed the door behind him. Dennis stood at the threshold of the short flight of stairs that led further into the office. He lightened his feet as he walked upon the thick floor carpeting, his eyes did a three-sixty scan of the large office. He took in the cream-colored wall with the set of glass windows looking out into the morning sun that was the city, the west side of the room which comprised of a lounge area, complete with exquisite-looking furniture and a makeshift bar and a suite. It looked more like an adjoining hotel room that something part of an upscale office, it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. This was some eccentric taste here. The east wall of the office on which hung Impressionistic wall paintings, African statues and decorative plaques. In the center of the room was a wide desk and seated behind it was a distinguished looking black man. He was dressed to the nines in an exquisitely tailored black suit that seemed to vibrance to his complexion. He had a lean frame and possessed wide shoulders. His features were lean and the look in his eyes was serious yet straight. He was on his feet as Dennis approached and his eyes seemed to look straight into him, into his weak, sniveling soul. Dennis was obviously intimidated by the man as he came to a stop before the man’s desk and hopped he didn’t reveal it on his face. Even now his hands felt sweaty; he itched to run his hands over his tie once again for good luck. The man came from around his desk, his lips curled into a thin slice of smile as he shook Dennis’s hand. His palm felt dry and rough and he pumped Dennis’s hand as if wanting to rip it from his shoulder socket. “Good of you to come, Mr Dennis Ellroy. My name’s Taylor Bennings, chief CEO of Bennings & Lamberti.” Dennis gave his head a slight bow. “An honor being here before you, sir,” he said. The man held his hand and his gaze for a few more seconds, his eyes never blinked and for Dennis it was like being caught by his father fifteen years ago when as a teen his old man had stumbled into his bedroom and found him jerking off to a naked dame in a Playboy centerfold. He could feel his cheeks turning red as the black CEO continued staring at him and it wasn’t until the man turned his gaze away that Dennis could finally breathe again. “Please,” the man directed Dennis towards the lounge area and offered him a seat. The chairs were leather and the fabric went with the furniture. Everything was high quality and taste, Dennis could even smell the money as he lowered himself down on the couch seat his future boss offered him. “I prefer less formality when meeting with fresh people,” said Taylor as he unbuttoned his jacket and sat across from Dennis, crossing one long pair of leg over the other. Dennis’s eyes went to his shoes. Expensive, he thought. “So, Dennis, tell me something. When you walked into the office and your eyes fell on me, were you expecting anything else?” Dennis was startled by the question. “Excuse me, sir?” “Where you expecting someone white as the CEO?” the man asked, his lips still retained the thin slice of smile that seemed to ingrate into Dennis’s soul. He couldn’t help touching his tie as if wanting it to give him added strength to survive this interview. “Well … yes, but not really, sir.” “Good. Now how about you tell me a little about yourself. What stuff you enjoy doing for fun and whatever else you care to add.” “I’m sorry sir, but is this part of the interview?” “Everything is part of the interview, white boy,” Taylor said to him, still keeping the smile on his face, except his eyes were like cold balls of steel looking right into Dennis’s heart and soul. “Are you going to answer the question, or do I have to call it a day?” Another rub of his tie, his thoughts raced as he struggled for words to say. “Well … my name’s Dennis Richards, and I turn twenty-five next month, though single. I have worked in a variety of jobs, and graduated from Washington State—” “Do you suck dick, white boy?” Taylor interrupted him abruptly. Rattled and confused by the line of questions, Dennis looked at him amazed at what he’d just heard, not quite believing he’d heard it. And why was he calling me ‘white boy?’ he asked himself. “Excuse me, sir?” “Stop beating about the bush, Dennis,” the CEO berated him. “You’re a white boy, and most white boys I know love sucking black cock. You are suitable working in my accounting firm. You’ve got all the necessary qualifications, but for you to get a seat at my table, you’ve first got to earn it. Watch this,” he picked up a small remote that rested on a coffee table beside him and pressed a button on it. Nothing happened, as if Dennis was expecting the roof to suddenly cave in. He looked about but nothing happened. Then he heard the office door come open and closed and turned his head in time to watch Taylor’s white secretary strut towards their direction. She made as if she didn’t see him. It was now Dennis realized how beautiful she was, with a nubile body hidden behind her white blouse and grey skirt and her blonde hair tied in a bun behind her back, she looked so much like a starlet. She wore a pair of glasses on her face. It gave her the look of an austere librarian, yet it wasn’t enough to hide her beauty. She came and stood like a dutiful sentry beside her boss.