As Jess dressed on Monday morning, donning a suit and carefully applying makeup to make sure she looked the perfect person for the job, her mind was still churning with guilt, indecision and a healthy dose of nerves.
Could she work with him?
Could she work with him and be in a relationship with him?
What would happen if he found out that she'd conspired with his boss to meet him so she could put herself in the best seat for the selection criteria?
Life had taught her she couldn't have everything. What choice would she make if she had to?
She loved her job. And it had been the only good thing in her life for a long time.
But would she give it up for him? He'd been fine with her practically living with him; they'd settled into an easy domesticity. But he'd never given any hints about whether this might be more than a fling. In fact, he generally liked to make cynical remarks about no one being able to put up with him. She had the feeling he pushed people until they broke. He hadn't done it to her – yet.
Her job offered security, she knew what was required and she knew she was good at it. Life with him offered her a rollercoaster – ups and downs of equal magnitude – and Jess often wondered if she had the stomach for it.
Could she chose between him and her job? If it came down to that, Jess really didn't know.
--
House had been about to burst into Cuddy's office with a complaint about his latest patient, but he stopped when he saw who was in there.
Jess. He belatedly recalled that she'd told him her interview was on Monday. He took his hand from the door knob just as Cuddy looked up and waved him away. He quickly stepped behind a pot plant before Jess turned around and saw him too – he didn't want to put her off.
He waited around the corner, listening intently for the sound of Cuddy's door opening, and sure enough about fifteen minutes later he heard the sounds of the women's goodbyes.
Rounding the corner again he waited until Jess had turned her back and headed for the main doors, not looking back. He startled Cuddy by walking up right behind her.
"Who was that?" He was in the mood to play and Cuddy would do fine.
Cuddy jumped and then sighed. "House," she said, the one word somehow conveying her annoyance, frustration and resignation to his mere presence.
"It was Jessica Mitchell. Currently head of PR and media for St Mary's. I was interviewing her for our PR role." Cuddy glared at him. "Did you know that you are a question in my candidate interviews? Whenever I have to hire lawyers or PR people I have to mention you – because half their job is going to be about defending you, protecting you, or explaining you."
"Really?" he asked sarcastically. "I keep telling you I'm important Cuddy, it's good to hear that someone's finally recognising that."
Cuddy scoffed at him. "As if your ego needed the boost, but all the candidates for this job have been scoping you out. Did you have a short guy with round glasses come up to you in the cafeteria last week?"
House cast his mind back. Yeah, there had been a guy who'd come over to his table when he was having lunch with Wilson who'd asked him some weird questions. House had been his usual rude and dismissive self and not thought of it again.
Cuddy took his silence as affirmative. "Well, he was another candidate. They're all doing their research on you. As hospital PR jobs go, this is the best one in the state. You're part of the reason for that."
House frowned. He got why the lawyers needed to know about him, but he rarely had anything to do with the media. Perhaps, he realised belatedly, that was because Julie Walters was very good at her job.
"How did Jessica Mitchell do?" House asked, deceptively casual.
"She has your number," Cuddy said with relish. "Her answers were perfect and she's the only one I've interviewed who's given any indication she could handle the special requirements that come from having you as a hospital employee."
"Really?" House asked, trying to control his smirk so he didn't let Cuddy suspect too much. "What sort of research do you think she's been doing?"
"Well, if she's done half of what I advised her to do when I met her four months ago, she's charmed you into submission." Cuddy gave him a victorious smile. "Charmed you at the conference in LA, asked you out for coffee, basically learned all there is to know. Seems to me that she's been successful. Recognise her now?"
House felt the pieces suddenly fall into place. Exactly why a beautiful young woman would approach a damaged old doctor at a conference after he'd tried to embarrass her with annoying questions…She was studying. Studying up for her next job.
Rationally, he couldn't believe she would fake her feelings for almost four months – let alone move in with him – just to get a job. But House had the strange sense that the world had just flipped over on itself. The chess master had suddenly found himself as nothing more than one of the pawns in the game.
"You don't want to hire her, Cuddy," House said. The words came out of his mouth almost automatically. Life had taught House to strike back; that a good offence was the best defence.
"Why?" Cuddy's hands were on her hips, the perfect aggressive stance.
"Remember how much fun it was when Stacy worked here?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
Cuddy looked at him, confused. Then she slumped. "Oh God, you're sleeping with her," she groaned.
House, retreating behind his usual mask of black humour, gave her a leering look. "There's not much sleeping going on."
"Great, thanks House." Cuddy looked pissed. "She was the best candidate. I wanted her for the job from the start. But there's no way I'm having a repeat of the Stacy debacle." Cuddy turned on her heel and marched back into her office, slamming the door.
House stood in the corridor for a while, thinking. Feeling a sick sense of pleasure that he'd cost Jess a new job in return for her betrayal. But the glee was muted by his hurt and sadness. If he'd been a piece of research to her, a stepping stone to her next job, then just how hilarious would his marriage proposal have been? She'd have laughed in his face. He sent a quick thanks to whatever omnipotent being may or may not have been paying attention that he'd only spilled his guts to Wilson and vowed to put the ring back in the drawer as soon as he got home.