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TARAJI

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TARAJI

I paced the white marble floors of Kennedy Taylor's photography studio building, nervously wringing my hands as I waited for the woman herself to call me back for my interview. I don't know what I'm going to say to her when she asks me about my background. I wasted my time coming here. There's no way that she's going to hire me if she finds out who I am and what I've done. I wouldn't hire me. I'm not good at helping people. All I do is bring people harm and make them regret ever knowing me. I don't know how I'm going to be someone's assistant. When Kennedy Taylor came around the corner, the first thing I noticed about her was how beautiful she was. Her hair looked like it costed the same price as a house payment, and she was dripping in designer labels from head to toe. She must be a big deal. She looks like a work of art, like she should be the one getting her pictures taken instead of being the one to take the pictures. Her smooth dark chocolate skin looked good enough to lick off the bone. I had my fair share of prison bitches while I was locked up, but there was never any real attraction, because it wasn't about that. It was just about satisfying your needs and having someone to warm your bed for a night. As physically appealing as Kennedy Taylor is, I can't think about that. I'm trying to be a better person, and I'm pretty sure that fucking your potential boss goes against the rules of being a better person. I know how to look without touching.

Kennedy: You must be Taraji?

Taraji: Yes, I am, Miss Taylor.

Kennedy: It's nice to meet you. Follow me to my office, please.

I trailed behind her as we walked to her office, our heels clicking in sync. She looks just as pretty from the back as she does from the front. I really shouldn't be having these thoughts of her. I didn't miss the ring on her finger. It's teardrop-cut and it has to be at least 18 karats, probably over. Her husband, or maybe her wife, must be a pretty big deal, too. She had only spoken two sentences to me and I was already so intimated by her. I like to think that I'm not scared of anybody or anything, and I'm not scared of Kennedy Taylor either, but her mere presence is nerve-wracking. There's nothing sexier than power, and it's even better when power comes with a pretty face. I can't allow my mental fantasies of her to manifest into something physical. I've already infiltrated Tyrese's marriage. My list of sins is long enough without adding home wrecker to it.

Miss Taylor's office was highly feminine and captivating, a perfect match to her overall aura. On the corner of her desk was this framed photo of a stunningly gorgeous coco-colored woman with short hair, a dazzling Colgate smile, and a bunch of tattoos. There was also a teenage girl in the picture, and she was just as beautiful as the other two women. Looking around, I noticed that the walls were covered in pictures of the woman and the girl. I'm thinking that they must be her wife and daughter .

Taraji: Your office is really nice

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Taraji: Your office is really nice. I love all the pictures.

Kennedy: Thank you. They're all pictures that I took myself. I love to capture images of beauty, and to me there's nothing in this world more beautiful than my wife and daughter.

So I was right, they are her family. This woman seems to have everything. She's blessed beyond measure. I was instantly jealous of her. I don't know why, but it's in my nature for me to want things that I could never have. I could never have a family like hers.

Taraji: It looks like you're an extremely talented photographer.

Kennedy: I would like to think that I am. Are you into photography?

Taraji: Honestly, no, and I know you must be thinking why do I want to work for a photographer if I'm not into photography.

Kennedy: I can't say that you're lying. That's exactly what I'm thinking.

Taraji: I'm not into photography, but I am into giving people results and making money. I don't want to just make money for myself. I can make money for you, too. As your assistant, I-

Kennedy: I'm sorry, Taraji, but I have to interrupt you and ask this question. How long have you been out of prison?

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of my chest. She knows about my criminal background after all. I should have known that she would do her homework on me, because I would have done the same thing as a businesswoman. I made the mistake of letting my guard down, and now I might have to pay for my mistake.

Taraji: Two days. I was gonna...I was gonna explain my story, but you didn't say anything from the beginning so I just thought-

Kennedy: You just thought that you could hide it from me? Nothing gets past me, Taraji. You should know that. Twenty years is a long time to go away. I read about the things you've done. I imagine that you don't know anything about helping people.

Taraji: You're right. I shouldn't have come here. I sincerely apologize for wasting your time.

I stood up and walked to the door to leave, but she called out my name, making me pause in my steps with my hand on the door handle.

Kennedy: Sit down, Taraji. I wasn't done with you.

I started to ask her who the fuck she thought she was talking to, but I had to remind myself that this was a place of business and not the prison yard. I don't know if I'll ever be able to get rid of my inmate mentality. I feel like I'm not really free because I have myself locked up in a mental prison, and the walls of my mental prison are talking to me, telling me that I'm not worth anything and that I should just give up on life. Sometimes I listen to it, but I can't let this time be one of those times. So, I bit my tongue and sat back down in the chair across from her desk.

Kennedy: You're my only option, and I desperately need an assistant. I'm going to put you through a probationary period. You will work for me for a week, receiving half of the weekly $1,000 salary, so you'll be getting $500 every week. If you prove yourself to be competent and more than capable, then you will be taken off of probation and you will start receiving the full pay.

Taraji: Do you really trust me not to screw up?

Kennedy: No, but I trust you to get money. It takes a sharp business mind to sell drugs around the world.

I couldn't tell if she was complimenting me, insulting me, or both. I'm not going to let her mixed feelings towards me hinder my opportunity to make a new life for myself. I'm anxious to see what our work dynamic will be like. If I can just stay focused on Sarai, my relationship with Kennedy Taylor won't be a problem.

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