Page 15 of Keep My Secrets
“Aria Mason.” He smiles like he is greeting a friend. “It's so great to meet you.” He stretches out his hand, and I do the same for a handshake.
“It’s such an honor to meet you. Your designs were consistently used in lectures at Acadia. You have designed some of the most beautiful buildings,” I start to ramble before cutting myself off. He just smiles, as if this is a normal occurrence for him.
“Shall we?” he says, gesturing to the hall he came from.
“Yes, sir.” I smile as he leads me toward a conference room.
He has me sit in a black leather office chair before he sits in a similar seat at the head of the table. He opens a black portfolio and pulls out a few pieces of paper.
“Mr. Reeves said you were new to the city?”
“Yes, I moved up here this weekend.” I smile.
“What convinced you to do that?”
A man twice my age that fucks me better than anyone I’ve ever slept with before kind of kidnapped me with the promise of a better life.
“I was convinced to start over, get a fresh start, and make a name for myself outside of where I grew up.” Not a lie, but I definitely can’t give the actual answer.
“A great reason to move. Rough childhood?”
“Something like that, but it made me the hard worker I am today.” He smiles.
“And why Castin? What makes you think we are the right place for you to make your name?”
“I recently graduated with my Bachelor’s of Architecture, and believe this would be an amazing place to learn as I am working towards accreditation. Hopefully one day I can move up the ladder from receptionist to intern to designer.”
“Bachelors?”
“From Acadia University, Suldatrian,” I answer.
“We were not informed of that. Why did you not apply for our internship this year?”
“I had attempted to, but there were some…family issues.” I try not to wince at the memory.
“If you're comfortable, can you elaborate?”
“One of your requirements is handwritten letters of recommendation. I had collected all of mine to mail in, but before I was able to put them in the mail, my mother accidentally shredded them with her sensitive documents.” I try to keep my voice steady, but I'm not sure I'm succeeding. “And with the time it would take to reach back out to my advisors, I would not have made the deadline.”
“I’m starting to understand the rough childhood.”
“You don't even know half of it.” I sigh, but then reach into my own portfolio and pull out some paperwork I printed off in Theo’s office last night. “But I did bring my unofficial transcripts as well as photos of the letters of recommendation I received.” He quickly takes them and looks them over.
“We have the handwritten requirement in there because we want to make sure the letters we are receiving are not a copy-paste version that a professor gives to every student. We also want to see if you left a big enough impression on these authority figures that they are willing to sit down and spend time writingout a letter for you by hand. From what I am seeing with these letters, not only were you an amazing student, but someone that these experts saw excelling in the field.” He looks up from the paperwork. “And some of the names you’ve got to write these letters are some of the notoriously tough professors, ones who don't usually write recommendation letters for anyone.”
“Acadia was where I got to thrive after years of being put in a box. I didn't want to waste that opportunity.”
“I am glad you didn't." He taps the stack of papers back into a pile before handing them back to me. “I am surprised Theo didn't include this information.”
“I don't think he knows. I mean, we haven't discussed much about my career.”
“Don’t underestimate him. He doesn't let many people into his inner circle. The fact that you are here means he trusts you; he probably did an extensive background check on you the night you met.” Mr. Castin laughs knowingly. Everyone keeps saying Theo doesn’t trust people, that he doesn't let anyone in, but he let me in, he practically pulled me in himself.
“I don't think the receptionist position is the right fit for you.” My attention snaps back to the conversation at hand as my heart sinks to my stomach. “This year's internship program started two weeks ago. If you think you can catch up, we would like to add you to this year's roster. If your paperwork had been mailed in, you would have been offered the position.”
I stare at him in shock for what feels like an eternity.
“Yes, absolutely. I can make up the two weeks quickly and can come in on weekends—” I stammer off until I'm interrupted.
