Page 13 of Love Not Qualified

You got this, stop underestimating yourself and show them who Haelyn Ross is.

A smile pushed the corners of my mouth upwards as I texted Chad back.

Me

thanks. I’m shaking in my boots rn *grimace emoji*

With trembling legs, I entered the building, the big doors sliding open in front of me. The moment I stepped inside, a bodyguard approached me. My breath got caught in my throat.

“Miss, can I see your ID?” he asked, extending his hand toward me.

“Yeah. Yes. Sure,” I mumbled, taking the purse I hooked over my shoulder and searching for my wallet. “I have an interview,” I found myself saying. As soon as I took out my ID he glanced at it, then back at me.

“You’re expected at the fiftieth floor, Miss Ross.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a smile, then went to the left—I didn’t know why—and put my identification card back.

“Miss Ross?”

I turned around at his voice. “Yes?”

“The elevator is that way.” He pointed his large hand to the right.

“Right.” I nodded, then walked past him with a last, “thank you.”

The reception was the first thing that came into view, large icons of a car were placed everywhere in the lobby. A few women stood behind the desk as employees speed-walked with papers in their hands, but careful enough not to stumble over each other.

“Hi.” I waved at the women, but they just stared at me like I was some kind of an anomaly.

I couldn’t care less. Politeness was a quality a few had and I didn’t hesitate showing it. So if I had to say hi and get nothing in return, then so be it. At least I was respectful enough to greet people when I entered a place.

I walked further, finding the elevator and pushing the button for the fiftieth floor. It stopped a few times and more people dressed as if they worked for the government walked in and out. Yet by the time I got to the last floor, I remained alone.

Huh. Strange.

The last floor must be for interviews only. It seemed like this company had a lot of interviews considering the large space.

“Miss Ross?” My name was called the moment the elevator pinged and I stepped out of it. A much smaller reception caught my view, an older woman sitting behind it with a smile. “Mr. Graves is waiting for you in the office.” She pointed her finger at the hallway to my left.

“Thank you.”

Before walking away, my eyes jumped to the clock behind the woman. It’s 7:55 a.m. I arrived here on time. With a confident smile, I arranged the white shirt I had on, and with each step I took, the heels I borrowed from Merielle thumped on the floor.

I inhaled sharply, stopping inches from the only office in here where the light was switched on. I threw the strawberry gum into the small trash so I wouldn’t be tempted to chew it during the interview.

You’ve got this.

After five years of switching jobs constantly, you’d think I would be less nervous about an interview and here I was, my knees shaking as if I ran here. My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths and I placed a hand on top of it to calm it down.

Go now if you don’t want to be late.

I plastered a smile on my face and stepped in front of the glass door, my fist knocking gently right under the nameplate that read, ‘Tristan Graves, CEO’.

For a company as big as this was, I thought the interviews would be passed on to someone else and not the boss itself, but then, I didn’t really know much about this world.

The man behind the desk lifted his gaze to me and all of a sudden, my legs shook for a completely different reason besides the stress of the interview. The sharp features of his face morphed into a dull expression, and while his jaw was firm, mine worked back and forth in nervousness.

“Come in.” His domineering and strong voice boomed outside of the office.

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