Introduction
I set up the interview schedules so that I would interview girls in the morning and get the rest of my work done in the afternoon. In the first three days of interviewing, I had seen eight candidates, and had been impressed by none. As the eighth potential secretary tried to explain the intricacies of word processing, I zoned out and thought about Samantha. I had dropped her off at the airport a couple days ago, and I realized that I was happy for the time off.
She was incredibly
attractive, well dressed,
and rich like Croesus - but cold as ice. On our wedding day, her father
had
given us the palatial penthouse in the city and a few million to "get
us on our
feet". That was six years ago, and the real payoff was coming soon.
Samantha
was in Florida, at the bedside of her dying father. He had made a
couple of
billion in oil, and she was his only heir. Our prenuptial agreement
gave me
ten percent of her assets if we divorced, and my measly ten percent was
about
to shoot up to around $600 million.
"And then, once you've got the font menu open ..." continued the interviewee. I ended the interview and escorted her out. Instead of going back into my office, I decided to go have some lunch.