Page 18 of Accidental Baby With My Brother's Best Friend

“You’re late Ms. Sanders. I’m afraid you don’t fit our requirements for this job.”... “You’re unqualified Ms. Sanders, your CV lacks experience for the role.”... “You’re wrongly dressed Ms. Sanders, you’re not applying for the role of a pole dancer in a clubhouse.”

Shit! My eyes dart down towards my chest. Sure enough I can see the pink tinge of my bra through my black camisole. With a heavy sigh, I pull up the hem of my shirt to cover it and put on my best expression of a ‘I’m the best candidate for this job’ face. A few more languid steps, heavy breaths and a slight stumble on the last step later and I’m right in front of his office.

I dither for a minute with my hand on the door handle. The thought of entering the office makes me want to gag. A couple of ‘what if’s’ play through my head that end with my mom’s derisive laughter echoing around my skull. If not for anything or anyone else, I have to nail this interview, if only to prove her wrong. To prove to her that I’m not the pathetic wreck she thinks I am.

You’ve got this Lily.I whisper to myself before bringing my knuckle to rap lightly against the door.

There’s some shuffling inside and then the door opens just slightly. It only gapes open half an inch, like it’s expecting something terrible from outside. A small voice speaks from behind the door, and it takes everything I have in me not to turn and run away.

“Come in Ms. Sanders.”

Why does that voice sound so eerily familiar? My feet shuffle forward, each one taking an eternity as I try not to trip on anything as I walk into the office. His back is facing me when I walk in with just his arms and the back of his head peeking out the edges of his chair.

As I step in, I forget my worries as the office opulence leaves me enthralled and breathless. The room is bathed in natural light, thanks to the expansive windows that stretch from floor to ceiling, offering breathtaking views of the city outside.

My attention is immediately drawn to the captivating paintings that adorn the walls. Each canvas tells a unique story, a burst of colors and emotions that ignite my imagination, taking my mind further away from my worries and making me feel even more at ease.

In one corner, there's a personal mini bar, a delightful surprise, stocked with an array of fine spirits and aged wines, inviting me to savor a moment of relaxation and contemplation. Nearby, an inviting armchair and a few coffee stools provide cozy spots to immerse myself in the creative atmosphere.

The room's layout culminates in a grand desk, affording a view of the magnificent knight sculpture and the entire creative haven. He clears his throat, snapping me out of my admiration.

“Good day sir.” I say, my voice quivering. I clear my throat and try to keep my voice steady. “I’m Lily Sanders and I have an interview scheduled for this morning.”

He raises an arm and returns it to the armrest. He still has his back facing me, adding to the tension I feel building in my chest.

“What time was your interview scheduled for?” He asks. This time, the voice is scruffy and low with a hint of an accent.

Phew! I blow out a sigh of relief. I must have been imagining things earlier. But why would he pop up in my mind, of all people.

I shift uneasily on one foot before responding.

“9am, sir.”

“And what’s the time now?”

I glance at my watch to check the time. My breath hitches in panic when the time shows10 am.I bite my lip and attempt another confident smile.

“10am, sir.”

“Well that definitely isn’t professional Ms. Sanders, is it?”

“No sir. My apologies. I had a little delay at the reception too.”

He snorts. “What time did you get here, Ms. Sanders?”

Something about the accent is off. There’s a tone there that seems almost threatening. But I chalk it up to my imagination playing tricks on me.

“9:15, sir.”

His shoulders tense and his hands clench the armrest. Finally, he turns his chair around to look at me. His eyes meet mine and it feels as though the air is sucked from the room, leaving a cold silence hanging over us. The atmosphere is thick and suffocating.

It’s him. It’s fucking him!The guy that wrote me a shitty note and left me after a night of sex. The guy who I stole a meal and a cup of coffee from, never mind our exchange a few minutes ago in the front lobby.Fuck it! Way to go Lily Sanders. You botched your big opportunity even before you even started.

“Oh!” He cocks his head to one side, a look of surprise etched on his face. I swear it looks genuine, but I doubt it. Feels like he knew I was the one, the moment I stepped through the door. That explains why he hid his face at first. And now I feel like the biggest idiot in the world. “If it isn’t Ms. Coffee mugger.”

I should leave. Just turn tail and run. Fuck the interview, and forget this whole thing ever happened but I can’t. Somehow my feet stay glued to the ground as I stare at him in disbelief.

“Nice that I should meet you here, you know. Quite the turnaround don’t you think?” He continues with a smug grin.

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