Page 58 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

“Get outta here already!”

Hustling to the door, I toss back a, “Wish me luck!”

“Break a leg!”

I shoot her a grin, and with a blown kiss, I’m out the door, hurrying down to catch BART. Amber is right. I can’t afford to be late. My day off has to be worth it, especially since Daniel will probably chew me out tomorrow.

The BART ride is a wreck. I stand sandwiched between a man who doesn’t take his hygiene seriously and another woman who hacks her lungs out. Head down, I hurry from BART toward the Carter & Associates building. Oddly enough, despite having visited this neighborhood a few times in the past, I’ve never really noticed the building before.

As I approach, the tall building looms before me, its glass walls reflecting the small city’s bustling energy. My eyes travel upward, drawn to a massive window spanning most of the building’s width. That must be Jameson Huntington’s office—the man who’s the complete opposite of Daniel. Polite, accommodating, and a self-made billionaire known for designing the world’s most popular video games. Landing a spot here could be a game-changer for me.

Pun intended.

Taking a deep breath, I brace myself. Talking about myself during interviews is my Achilles' heel, but this time, I’ll push through the awkwardness. As I step through the revolving door, a friendly brunette behind a massive white desk greets me.

“Hello and welcome,” she smiles.

“Hi, I’m Chloe Summers. I have an interview.”

“Certainly, Ms. Summers. Here’s your visitor pass. Wear it while you’re in the building. You’re early, but Meera won’t mind. She’s setting up. Take the elevator to the fifth floor, and Nina will guide you from there.”

I nod in appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Of course. The elevator’s right over there,” she points.

I offer her another smile and pivot towards the elevator. My phone buzzes from my purse, but I ignore it. I press the elevator button and attach the visitor badge to my blazer. The elevator dings open, and I step inside, pressing the button for the fifth floor.

I’m a bundle of nerves by the time I reach the fifth floor. All the deodorant in the world can’t stand up to my nerves right now. My hands are trembling, and sweat is gathering under my pink blazer. It’s a good thing I wore it, or I’d be showing off some serious sweat stains.

Approaching another desk, I greet the woman there. “Hi, I’m Chloe Summers, looking for Nina.”

“That’s me. Have a seat. Meera will be with you shortly.” Her smile’s so bright, and I wonder if it’s a job requirement here.

I settle into a seat.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Nina offers.

“No thanks,” I decline. The last thing I need right now is a bathroom break.

The chair’s not the comfiest, and the room could use a splash of color. It’s all black and white—white walls, black desk, black chairs. An image of Andrews Enterprise pops to mind. What is it with offices and their lack of color these days?

“Ms. Summers,” a grey-haired, petite woman peeks around the door.

I stand and greet her with a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Chloe.”

“Please, come in,” Meera welcomes, ushering me inside to a conference table. “I’m Meera.”

The interview is intense. I've never faced someone who asked so many questions and presented so many scenarios and 'what if' situations, challenging my ability to think and work through them. Not even Daniel's HR team put me on the hot seat like this. Then the phone rings, and I silently thank whoever’s on the other end for the break. Meera picks up, her face twisting into a frown at the voice on the line. I can just catch the deep tones of the caller.

Meera ends the call a while later and smiles, “Congratulations!”

“I...what?”

“Mr. Huntington needs someone to start immediately. This search has gone on for too long and we have a big project coming up. We can’t afford any more delays, and from what I’m hearing from you, your answers are the best I’ve heard by far.”

The words hit me like a wave. I’m hired? Just like that? What about reference checks?

“I can’t start right away,” I manage to say.

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