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her heart rate begin to slow after a few moments, and drifted off to sleep, her hand still between her thighs.
     
    The next day, j ust as Christina was leaving her current job for the weekend, her staffing agent, Courtney, called.  She had an opening for a personal assistant to the CEO of a Zuppan, a high fashion firm that had rocketed into the spotlight a few years ago.  Christina remembered drooling over their lines in fashion magazines as a high school student.  "It's a long shot, frankly; generally speaking, they should want someone with more experience," Courtney said.  "But you do have experience from the temp jobs you've already held, you have the educational background, and frankly, it will be good experience for you to start interviewing for more high-powered positions like this one." 
    Chri stina was terrified, but she eagerly accepted the interview nonetheless. She and Courtney talked for a few more minutes, during which they agreed that Christina would come in on Tuesday morning to have Courtney help her prepare for the interview, which would be on the following Thursday.  Courtney said it was somewhat likely that Christina wouldn't even meet the CEO during an initial interview. "I'm sure he will have someone under him do the interviewing, at least at first.  So you have to prepare to impress the person at the ground level and do everything you can to get to the next stage." The CEO's name was Devon Mulrooney, and from what Courtney said, he had the reputation of being sharply intelligent and quite intense.  "You'll need to be efficient, quick acting, and probably thick-skinned," Courtney said. "He sounds like someone who could eat you alive if he felt like it."
    On the train home that afternoon, Christina contemplated everything she had been told about the position and the CEO.  She was more than a little nervous, but she sternly talked herself out of it.  "Life experience, Chris.  It's all life experience."  She smiled: she sounded like her dad.  Well, he was right.  She could do this.  She would not let herself be intimidated. 
    Over the weekend, she made sure to do some research on Zuppan, so that she could be prepared for her meeting with Courtney.  She also looked up everything she could find on Devon Mulrooney.  Strangely, it was almost impossible to find any images of him.  The few that showed up during her searches seemed to be other people with that name, not the C.E.O.  She did learn, however, that he was not married, had no children, was 47 years old, had grown up in New York and London.  The words "determined" and "visionary" often showed up in reference to him, and "intense" appeared more than once.  Christina wondered idly about his private life; what did a man who seemed so driven and focused on his career do for pleasure? What would he be like when he was off the clock? Was he ever off the clock?  Christina shook herself out of her reverie.  She was here to prepare for this interview, not to imagine what this highly successful man did on his own time. 
    On Tuesday morning, Christina took the train into the city to her meeting with Courtney.  Her appointment was for 11:00, so the morning rush was mostly over, and the train, though not empty, was mostly quiet, with commuters reading or listening to their MP3 players and looking out the window.  Christina was wearing a light, cream-colored silk shirt that set off her early-summer tan and her honey-blond hair.  Sitting in the train car reviewing her notes, she began to have a strange sensation, as though someone was watching her.  She glanced up, and seated about fifteen feet away from her was a man in a suit, who seemed to be appraising her.  Thick, dark hair, steely blue eyes, and masculine build, in a clearly expensive suit that fit him to perfection.  As her eyes met his, he leaned back lazily in his seat, clearly enjoying the view. Unapologetically, he appreciatively scanned her form, stopping for a moment at the