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“Are you all right?” I hear a low baritone ask, and that’s when I look up.
I’m held spellbound for a second as I look into a pair of hazel eyes that are looking deep into my soul. It’s the man from earlier. The same man I couldn’t stop staring at just a minute ago.
“Are you okay?” he asks again, causing me to quickly stand erect and take a step away from him because his cologne is making me feel dizzy in a good way.
“Ye…” I clear my throat because I can’t seem to get any words out. “Yeah, I’m fine. I…” I swallow hard. “I’m sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It’s fine. Maybe you can look away from your phone while walking to avoid accidents like this.”
“Yes, of course.”
He gives me a curt nod before walking away, and my eyes follow him as I mentally beat myself for making such a terrible first impression. I just hope I never have to see him again because I don’t want to relive this embarrassment.
Without replying to Chloe, I walk over to the elevator and get in, pressing the fifth floor.
The elevator doors ding softly as I reach my destination, and I step out into a corridor adorned with plush carpeting.
I follow the concierge’s directions to the manager’s office, and I can’t help but replay the awkward encounter with the mysterious hazel-eyed man in my mind.
The anticipation for the interview competes with a lingering uneasiness, but the excitement wins as I rehearse the way I’m going to greet the interviewer in my head.
I take a moment to compose myself and take a deep breath before I knock.
“Come in,” I hear a feminine voice call out.
The door swings open to reveal a woman who seems to be in her early thirties, well-dressed and exuding an air of authority.
“Jessica Martin?” she inquires with a raised eyebrow, as if my presence is an inconvenience.
“Yes, that’s me,” I reply, trying to muster confidence.
“Finally,” she mutters under her breath, making me question whether she intended for me to hear it. “Come in, and let’s get this over with.”
I step into her office, and the manager, whom I assume to be Ms. Rodriguez, based on the nameplate on her desk, motions for me to take a seat. I comply, my nerves intensifying as I notice her stern expression.
The interview starts, and I answer questions to the best of my ability. However, her demeanor doesn’t soften. Instead, she seems unimpressed, as if my presence is an inconvenience to her busy schedule.
As the meeting progresses, I can’t shake off the feeling that I’m not what she expected or wanted. Her abrupt tone catches me off guard, and her dismissive gestures make it clear that she’s either having a bad day or she just doesn’t like me.
After what feels like an eternity, Ms. Rodriguez abruptly stands. “Wait outside. I’ll let you know my decision.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, she points me in the direction of the door.
Time seems to drag on as I stand by the manager’s office's door. Doubt creeps in. I take out my phone, contemplating whether to text Chloe or continue to mark time in suspense.
Just then, the door swings open, and she appears. “You’re hired. Check your email in the next five minutes, and an offer will be sent to you. Make sure you’re here tomorrow morning by eight, not later, or you might as well not come at all.”
With that, she disappears back into the office, shutting the door in my face.
Stunned, I stare at the closed door, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. The doubt that had been creeping in earlier now dissolves into disbelief. I find myself reeling with a mix of emotions—shock and exhilaration.
I just got the job! I have a job!
The confirmation that this is real begins to sink in, and I can feel a rush of joy welling up inside me.
Unable to contain my elation, I dial Chloe’s number, and as she answers, the first thing she asks is, “How did it go?”
“Chloe, I got the job! Can you believe it?” I exclaim.
