I stare at his picture longer than I should, but I can’t help it. Nolan Delaney is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Of course, I’ve seen him before. His face was all over the TV when I was a teenager, but not in recent years. He was young back then. My age now. Looking like a college kid looks. But today, ten years later, he looks every bit the businessman he is.
It’s real. This invitation might be unorthodox, but it’s real. I’m sure if Mr. Delaney feels he needs this kind of privacy protection he has a good reason for it. He was, after all, accused and almost tried for serious crimes back in college. He must still be feeling the sting of those long, depressing years.
I open the door and say, “OK, I accept.”
Delivery man in black says, “Perfect,” as he once again reaches into his suit coat and produces another silver envelope, which he places on the brick post of my tiny gate. “The arrangements are in there. If you need to cancel there is a number to call. But first,” he says, producing a more conventional white envelope, “I’ll need you to sign this.” He hands the white envelope to me and then finds a pen.
I open the envelope and look it over. It’s one page, three paragraphs, and doesn’t say anything weird. It all looks like legal speak for a simple NDA.
I sign, then reach out and take the silver envelope from the brick post, and before I can even say thank you, the man in black turns on his heel and walks back to the car. My mouth is hanging open from surprise as I watch the long car pull away from the curb and disappear down the street.
*******
“Wait,” my best friend, Nora, says later that evening. “A private jet? You got a top-secret invitation to interview for some random billionaire and he’s flying you to California in a private jet?”
I have to pinch myself, because yes, that’s all true.
“How?” Nora exclaims.
“Remember when I told you my dad wanted me to go to the Brown Alumni dinner with him last month?”
Nora nods, still dumbstruck.
“Well, that afternoon there was a job fair in the library, so I went just to get away from him for a few hours. And I left my résumé all over that room. Maybe he got it that way?”
“So you met him? This Nolan Delaney guy? You do know who he is, right?”
“No,” I say. “But yes. I didn’t meet him and I do know who he is.” Everyone knows who Nolan Delaney is. One of the infamous Mister Browns from Brown University.
“Mr. Romantic,” Nora says. “They call him Mr. Romantic. That cannot be good. Your father is going to flip out.”
“I know. But there’s no way I’m getting this job. I mean, this has to be some kind of mistake. We just graduated four months ago. No one is hiring me to run their new resort. But it’s a free trip on a private jet to an exotic place. I should at least go, right?”
“Oh,” Nora says, “you’re going. There is no way you’re not going. I’ve never even been on a private jet and we have loads of money. You need to take pictures. Of everything. Especially that delicious Mr. Romantic. How long will you be gone?”
“It says a weekend working interview. Is that normal?”
Nora squints her eyes as she considers this. “Hmmm. I’m not sure. What do I know about working interviews? I’ve only managed to get three meetings with no call-backs since graduation. And that’s with all my father’s influence. It does sound a little unconventional. But I guess it’s a big job. He must want to make sure he hires the right person.”
“Yeah. I just can’t believe it. What if I do get it?” I have pictured it in my mind for the last six hours since the man appeared at my townhouse door with the hand-delivered invitation. It would be a huge break for me.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Ivy,” Nora cautions. “I know you’re smart and talented and he’d be lucky to get you, but I bet there’s going to be some exceptional people there.”
“I know.” I sigh. “I’m not really expecting to get the job. It’s probably some kind of mistake.” How could it not be? I have no experience and this is a managerial position.
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow. They are sending a car for me at six AM. I’ll be back next week. Unless they have some kind of elimination process and send me home early.”
“A Survivor job interview,” Nora says, more to herself than me. “Weird. How many people do you think will be there?”
I shrug as I refill each of our wine glasses. “It didn’t say. It didn’t say anything. Technically I’m not supposed to be telling you so much. I signed a non-disclosure agreement when I said yes. I was told to only tell my family where I was going, not who it was with.”
“Oh, my God. That is super mysterious.”
“Right?” I ask back. “It’s kind of… hot.”
We both fall back into the couch cushions and laugh. “What do you know about hot, Ivy?” Nora snorts. “Still a virgin at twenty-two. I don’t know what to do with you. Your father’s influence runs way too deep.”
“I know,” I say, biting my lip. I had a guy all set up for V-day after graduation, but I chickened out at the last minute. “All that episcopal education growing up.”
“Honey, we went to the same boarding school and it never stopped me.”
That’s all true. My father is the episcopal pastor, and dean, of the Bishop School for Girls in Bishop, Massachusetts. I grew up on that campus, in that chapel and with all the rules one might expect from being a pastor’s daughter.
“You know what I should do…” I say, the wheels in my mind starting to turn with an idea.
“What?” Nora asks, impatient when I hesitate too long.
“I should lose my virginity this week.”
Nora laughs so loud, it echoes off the cathedral ceiling. “With who? The billionaire? You want a guy like Mr. Romantic to be your first? Please. You need to work up to a player like him, Ivy. He would fuck you inside out!”