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I scoop a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, hoping it will help comfort me and give me temporary relief.
A week later, thanks to Chloe’s advice, I find myself in front of the Grand Princeton, preparing for my job interview.
The second I walk through the large glass doors guarding the entrance, I feel like I’m entering another universe.
The pristine marble tiles shine like they are polished every minute of the hour. I can literally see my reflection in them. The air feels like it has been infused with a subtle aroma of luxury. The beautiful wooden furniture looks too expensive for anyone to sit on.
Classy jazz music drifts from hidden speakers, and this adds a sophisticated melody to the atmosphere. The ceiling soars high above, adorned with exquisite chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow over the entire space.
Guests, dressed in elegant attire, flow gracefully through the lobby. They move with ease and purpose, some engaged in hushed conversations, others immersed in their phones.
As I scan the surroundings, someone else catches my eye.
A soft gasp escapes my mouth as my gaze rests on the dark-haired man in the foyer. His lips curl into a frown as his gray eyes shine with something I can’t quite decipher; anger, maybe.
Toned forearms sneak out from under his dress shirt, and I imagine those arms around me for the briefest moment. It takes shaking my head to bring me out of my reverie.
Get a grip—you’re here for an interview.
I quickly look away from the man and focus my attention to my left, where a concierge stands behind a sleek, mahogany desk adorned with fresh flowers and two large computer screens. She has her eyes glued to the monitors as she checks a couple in.
This is what my future is going to look like if I get this job. Will I be good at it? I’ve never been in this role before. Maybe I should just turn around and leave. It’s not too late.
You can’t do that. Remember, you have bills to pay.
Of course. Pulling myself together, I take a deep breath and walk up to the uniform-dressed woman.
“Good morning, ma’am. Welcome to the Grand Princeton,” she greets me with a warm smile. She looks about the same age as me and seems genuinely happy at her job. Or if she’s faking it, then she’s very good at it.
“Hello, I’m here for an interview,” I say to her, returning her smile even if I feel terribly nervous on the inside.
What if I flop this? What if I get rejected, just like the rest of the places I had applied to?
Maybe I should just save myself the heartache, turn around, and go back home.
“Your name, please,” the concierge asks, still smiling.
“Jessica Martin.”
She peers at her computer screen as she types on the keypad, and then she looks up, her expression unwavering.
How does she do that?
“The manager is waiting for you. Head up to the fifth floor; her office is the third door by your right.”
“Thank you…” I trail off as I peek at her name tag, “Vivian.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck in there.”
I give her a curt nod as some guests approach her and start attending to them. Then, I walk to the elevator, taking my phone out of my purse to text Chloe, letting her know that I’m going in for the interview. She replies almost immediately.
Chloe: Go get them! Let’s meet for drinks and celebrate later this evening.
Me: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t know if I’m going to get the job yet.
Chloe: Have a little faith.
I’m about to text her back a reply when I bump into a wall, causing me to lose my balance, but just before I fall to the floor, I feel warm, large hands hold me on both sides, preventing me from falling.
