3 The Proposal

"My proposal is simple," Mr. Tan says, pausing for effect. "Work for me for a month, for free. Like what you say, a 'demonstration' of your skills and competency. If you can last a month and not walk out, I will pay you a year's salary."

"What? A year's salary for only a month's work?"

"Yes."

Claire makes quick mental calculations in her head and arrives at a jaws-dropping conclusion: this deal is too good to be true. So what's the catch?

"Are you being serious, sir?" She tries to hide the quake in her voice.

"Do I look like I'm one who has time for frivolity?"

"But that's too good to be true. You're either too kind or too monstro…Err, I mean, I'm finding it hard to wrap my mind around it."

Mr. Tan fake-coughs. "I also don't have the time to wait for you to wrap your mind around it. Take it or leave it. I'll give you two seconds."

"What? Just tw—"

"One…"

"Wait, okay, wait, let me breathe a sec." Claire looks around and grabs the sofa's armrest. She's not kidding; her head seems to be spinning. This is happening too fast for her taste. "Wait, let me…"

"One point five seconds…."

She stares at him. What's this man's problem? Doesn't he have an ultra-important board meeting to attend somewhere? Isn't he supposed to sign a boatload of important documents? Shouldn't he be at some control room at the top of this tower making critical decisions for the future of his company, decisions that, given the magnitude of his business holdings, could affect the economies of at least a dozen countries? Yet, here he is, taking the time to "interview" a lowly fresh graduate for what is really just a personal assistant's job. He even has the liver to tease her with an "offer you can't refuse," as he put it. Does he think he can tease the bejesus out of innocent girls like her, with prospects of money and a comfortable life a year from now? How dare him! How dare he give her false hope!

This man deserves only one thing: Call his bluff. Claire Monteverde isn't someone to be trifled with.

"Of course, I'll say yes to the proposal, sir," she says, putting on the act of being some cheerful nincompoop who's supposedly clueless about the game the man's playing. "I'd be happy to work for you, free, for a month in exchange for the prospect of getting a year's pay." She smiles her widest smile.

Then she waits, as Mr. Tan stands there, gazing at her with that bemused look on his face. Would he cave in? Would he say, "I got you! Was just kidding, you stupid girl! Who in his right mind would actually give you that kind of offer? Ha ha ha ha!"

But to his amazement, he says, so calmly, "Fine. I'll have Mrs. Gomez give you the contract to sign. You report directly to me."

"That's it?" Claire is still suspicious; she almost leaps out of the chair. "I am really working for you for a month?"

Mr. Tan pinches the bridge of his nose again. "Oh, this is so annoying. The last thing I need right now is someone who requires me to repeat my words." He stands up and looks sternly at her. "Look, Miss Monteverde, I don't have time to play games. See, I didn't serve you any bullshit. I didn't give you the usual work-around with HR. You came to my office, and something about you made me curious enough to actually try you. I don't dilly-dally. I don't play around. I go straight to the point. And my point is simple: I am hiring you to be my girl Friday. My personal assistant. The person who gets shit done, and done flawlessly and quickly. I made you an offer, and you said you accept. So what's the problem? The signing of the contract is a mere formality. People like myself bank on our word. My word is my bond, and you can expect me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Understand?"

"Uhh, y-yes, sir…"

"Perfect!" Mr. Tan stands up and buzzes the receptionist, who materializes by the door, her face white as sheet.

"You need me, sir?"

"Oh, there you are," he says, his cheerfulness almost seemingly bordering on crazy. "I want you to produce the Red Contract."

The receptionist's eyes widen. "The Red Contract, sir? Are you serious?"

Mr. Tan throws his arms in the air. "What's wrong with you people? Why is everyone asking me to repeat everything? I say the Red Contract, I mean the Red Contract!"

"Yes, sir! Apologies, sir. I'll be back in a sec!" Then as quickly as she appeared, the receptionist slips out of the door, leaving Claire with her mouth hanging open.

Everything's happening bizarrely and so quickly that Claire feels like she's having some out-of-body experience, watching herself sitting awkwardly in that otherwise comfy chair, not knowing what to do.

"So Miss Monteverde," he begins. "Mrs. Gomez will return here in a few minutes to give you the papers to sign. And right here, right now, today, I mean, you start working for me, understand?"

"I, uhh, I…understand."

"Perfect! Because I already have an urgent task to give you today. It should be easy. Something you've probably done all your life. Wait, are you still a virgin?"

"What?"

"Are you still a virgin?"

"I, uhhh…I, uhhh…" Claire doesn't know what to tell him. Does getting accidentally groped on the train count? Does the kiss that boy Jackson stole from her in sixth grade count? Just a month ago, her neighbor's dog humped her leg—does that count? "I…I am a virgin, sir." Her voice almost inaudible.

A subtle shift of emotion happens on Mr. Tan's face. He flicks back his shoulder-length hair. "Perfect. Because I just have the task for you."

Then even before she could react, he is already unbuttoning his coat and shirt and letting his pants drop. He is about to remove his underwear when he stops mid-action—because she's screaming her lungs out.