Why does she have such an unnerving effect on me? Her overwhelming good looks maybe? The way her eyes blaze at me? The way she strokes her index finger against her lower lip? I wish she'd stop doing that.
"Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things." she continues, her voice soft.
"Do you feel that you have immense power?" Control Freak.
"I employ over forty thousand people, Miss Fields. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility - power, if you will. If I were to decide I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sell up, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so".
My mouth drops open. I am staggered by her lack of humility.
"Don't you have a board to answer to?" I ask, disgusted.
"I own my company, I don't have to answer to a board or anyone." she raises an eyebrow at me. I flush. Of course, I would know this if I had done some research. But holy crap, she's so arrogant. I change tack.
"And do you have any interests outside your work?" I'm probing.
"I have varied interest, Miss Fields." A ghost of a smile touchers her lips. "Very varied."
And for some reason, I'm confounded and heated by her steady gaze. Her eyes are alight with some wicked thought. "But, if you work so hard, what do you do to chill out?"
"Chill out?" She smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. I stop breathing. She really is beautiful. No one should be this good-looking.
"Well, to 'chill out' as you put it - I swim, I sail, I fly, I indulge in various physical pursuits." She shifts in her chair and leans forward. "I'm a very wealthy woman, Miss Fields and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies."
I glance quickly at Hanna's questions, wanting to get off this subject.
"You invest in manufacturing. Why, specifically?" I ask. Why does she make me so uncomfortable?
"I like to build things. I like to know how things work, what makes things tick, how to construct and deconstruct. And I have a love of ships. What can I say?"
"That sounds like your heart talking rather than logic and facts."
Her mouth quirks up, and she stares appraisingly at me. "Possibly. Though there are people who say I don't have a heart."
"Why would they say that?" I'm genuinely intrigued.
"Because they know me well." Her lips curl in a wry smile.
"Would your friends say you're easy to get to know?" I regret the question as soon as I say it. It's not on Hanna's list.
"I'm a very private person Miss Fields. I go a long way to protect my privacy. I don't often give interviews." she trails off.
"Why did you agree to do this one?"
"Because I'm a benefactor of the University and for all intents and purposes, I couldn't get Miss Marin off my back. She badgered and badgered my PR people and I admire that kind of tenacity."
I know how tenacious Hanna can be. That's why I'm sitting here squirming uncomfortably under her penetrating gaze, when I should be studying for my exams.
"You invest in farming technologies. Why are you interested in this area?"
"We can't eat money, Miss Fields and there are too many people on this planet who don't have enough to eat."
"That sounds very philanthropic. Is it something you feel passionately about? Feeding the world's poor?"
She shrugs, very noncommittal.
"It's shrewd business." she murmurs, though I think she's disingenuous. It's doesn't make sense - feeding the world's poor? I can't see the financial benefits of this, only the virtue of the ideal. I glance at the next question, confused by her attitude.
"Do you have a philosophy? If so, what is it?"
"I don't have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle - Carnegie's: 'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled.' I'm very singular driven. I like control - of myself and those around me."
"So you want to possess things?" You are a control freak.
"I want to deserve to possess them, but yes, bottom line, I do."
"You sound like the ultimate consumer."
"I am" she smiles, but the smile doesn't touch her eyes. Again this is at odds with someone who wants to feed the world, so I can't help thinking that we're talking about something else, but I'm absolutely mystified as to what it is. I swallow hard. The temperature in the room is rising or maybe it's just me. I just want this interview to be over. Surely Hanna has enough material now? I glance at the next question.
"You were adopted. How much do you think that's shaped the way you are?" Oh, this is personal. I stare at her, hoping she's not offended. Her brow furrows.
"I have no way of knowing."
My interest is piqued.
"How old were you when you were adopted?"
"That's a matter of public records, Miss Fields." Her tone stern. I blush, again. Crap. Yes of course - if I'd known I was doing this interview, I would have done some research. I move on quickly.
"You've had to sacrifice a family life for your work."
"That's not a question." She's terse.
"Sorry." I squirm, and she's made me feel like an errant child. I try again. "Have you had to sacrifice a family life for your work?"
"I have a family. I have a brother and a sister and two loving parents. I'm not interested in extending my family beyond that."
"Are you gay, Miss McCullers?"
She inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. Crap. Why didn't I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell her I'm just reading the questions? Damn Hanna and her curiosity!
"Yes Emily, I am." She raises her eyebrows, a cool gleam in her eyes. She does not look pleased.
"I apologise. It's um… written here." It's the first time she's said my name. My heartbeat has accelerated and my cheeks are heating up again. Nervously, I tuck my loosened hair behind my ear.
She cocks her head to one side. "These aren't your questions?"
The blood drains from my head. Oh no. "Err… no Hanna - Miss Marin - she compiled the questions."
"Are you colleagues on the student paper?" Oh crap. I have nothing to do with the student paper. It's her extracurricular activity, not mine. My face is aflame.
"No, she's my roommate."
She rubs her chin in quiet deliberation, her brown eyes appraising me.
"Did you volunteer to do this interview?" she asks her voice deadly quite.
Hang on, who's supposed to be interviewing whom? Her eyes burn into me, and I'm compelled to answer with the truth.
"I was drafted. She's not well." My voice is weak and apologetic.
"That explains a great deal."
There's a knock at the door, and brunette Number Two enters.
"Ms McCullers, forgive me for interrupting, but you next meeting is in two minutes."
"We're not finished here Andrea, Please cancel my next meeting."
Andrea hesitates, gaping at her. She appears lost. Ms McCuller's turns her head slowly to face her and raises her eyebrows. Andrea flushes bright pink. Oh good, it's not just me.
"Very well, Ms McCullers." she mutters then exists. Ms McCullers frowns and turns her attention back to me.
"Where were we, Miss Fields?"
Oh, we're back to 'Miss Fields' Now
"Please don't let me keep you from anything."
"I want to know about you. I think that's only fair." Her brown eyes are alight with curiosity. Double crap. Where's she going with this? She places her elbows on the arms of the chair and steeples her fingers in front of her mouth. Her mouth is very distracting. I swallow.
"There's not much to know" I say, flushing again.
"What are your plans after you graduate?" I shrug, thrown by her interest. Go to L.A with Hanna, find a place, find a job. I haven't really thought beyond my finals.
"I haven't made any plans, Ms McCullers. I just need to get through my final exams." Which I should be studying for now, rather than sitting in you palatial, swanky, sterile office, feeling uncomfortable under your penetrating gaze.
"We run an excellent internship program here." she says quietly. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Is she offering me a job?
"Oh. I'll bear that in mind." I murmur, completely confounded. "Though I'm not sure I'd fit in here." Oh no. I'm musing out loud again.
"Why do you say that?" She cocks her head to one side, intrigued, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" I'm uncoordinated, scruffy and I'm not blonde.
"Not to me" she murmurs. Her gaze is intense, all humour gone and strange muscles deep in my belly clenched suddenly. I tear my eyes away from her scrutiny and stare blindly down at my knotted fingers. What's going on? I have to go - now. I lean forward to retrieve the recorder.
"Would you like me to show you around?" she asks.
"I'm sure you're far too busy, Ms McCullers and I do have a long drive"
"You're driving back to San Francisco?" She sounds surprised, anxious even. She glances out of the window. It's begun to rain.
"Well, you'd better drive carefully." Her tone is stern and authoritarian. Why should she care? "Did you get everything you need?" she adds.
"Yes Ms McCullers." I reply, packing the recorder into my satchel. Her eyes narrow, speculatively.
"Thank you for the interview, Ms McCullers."
"The pleasure's been all mine." she says as polite as ever.
As I rise, she stands and holds out her hand.
"Until we meet again, Miss Fields." and it sounds like a challenge, or a threat, I'm not sure which. I frown. When will we ever meet again? I shake her hand once more, astounded that the odd current between us is still there. It must be my nerves.
"Ms McCullers." I nod at her. Moving with lithe athletic grace to the door, she opens it wide.
"Just ensuring you make it through the door, Miss Fields." She gives me a small smile. Obviously, she's referring to my earlier less-than-elegant entry into her office. I flush.
"That's very considerate, Ms McCullers" I snap, and her smile widens. I'm glad you find me entertaining. I glower inwardly, walking into the foyer. I'm surprised when she follows me out. Andrea and Olivia both look up, equally surprised.
"Did you have a coat?" McCullers asks.
"Yes" Olivia leaps up and retrieves my jacket, which McCullers takes from her before she can hand it to me. She holds it up and feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I shrug it on. McCullers places her hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at the contact. If she notices my reaction, she gives nothing away.
Her polished index finger presses the button summoning the elevator and we stand waiting - awkwardly on my part, cooly self-possessed on her. The doors open and I hurry in desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here. When I turn to look at her, she's leaning against the doorway being the elevator with one hand on the wall. She really is very, very beautiful. It's distracting. Her burning brown eyes gaze at me.
"Emily" she says as a farewell.
"Paige" I reply. And mercifully the doors close.