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Chapter 1
Emma
“Hold the elevator!” Emma screamed as she rushed across the office lobby. She was so upset at the fact that she was running late. She had left her class early to make this interview at an oil company but unfortunately, the traffic had been bad.
A tall, dark-haired man held the doors open for her. Emma rushed in with her high heels in one hand, a Starbucks cup of coffee in the other and a handbag on her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said to him as she pressed the button for the fifth floor. The man didn’t reply. He just watched her trying to put her shoes on. Emma had changed into a grey skirt and a sky-blue blouse at the university but she had kept her Converses on. It was easier to drive in sneakers. She was now trying to change into her high heels before she went in for her interview.
“I can’t be late,” Emma mumbled. She looked at her watch; she had about three minutes left to her interview. She gasped. She was going to make it at 1 o’clock on the dot. She took one sneaker off and put on her black heel. Emma took her other sneaker off. She lost her balance as she was trying to put on the other heel and started bouncing on one leg. She didn’t regain her balance and ended up crashing into the man and spilling her coffee on his white shirt. He groaned as he took a step back. Emma gasped loudly.
“Oh my God!” she cried out. “I am so sorry.” She fished her T-shirt out of her bag that she was wearing before she changed into the blouse. She started dabbing his chest in a futile attempt to clean his shirt.
“It’s okay,” he said. His deep voice was so relaxed.
“I am just late for an interview, that’s why I am panicking like this and trying to get my shoes on. Oh, I am so sorry, sir. If I get this job, I will make it up to you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The doors opened and he headed out of the elevator. He was getting off at the same floor where she was having her interview. Emma let out a squeak as she slowly walked out of the elevator. She watched the dark-haired man head down the corridor and take a left turn.
“Good job, Emma,” she said to herself sarcastically. It was much like her to be so clumsy. She knew that if she got the job, it was going to be awkward seeing him.
Emma had applied for the part-time receptionist position because it paid well and the commute wasn’t too long from her home. The position was for 5-8 p.m. on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, which would not interfere with her university classes because she finished at 4 p.m. She needed the job to help pay the household bills. Her mother had been laid off when her company filed for bankruptcy. Her mother had told her not to worry but Emma wasn’t the type of woman to sit back and do nothing. She wanted to help her mother. She could see that sometimes it was too much for her mother to look after three girls, especially being a single parent.
Emma rushed to the reception desk in the clean lobby. “Hello. I am Emma Grey and I am here for an interview,” she said to the woman at the reception desk.
“Please take a seat, Miss Grey,” the woman replied.
“Thank you.” Emma threw her Starbucks coffee cup into a trash bin before she sat down at the leather brown chairs. The woman at the desk picked up the phone and punched the keys.
“Sheikh Besada, Miss Grey is here for her interview,” she said into the receiver. “Yes, sheikh,” she replied. She put the phone down and smiled at Emma. “He will be with you in a moment.”
“Thank you,” Emma replied. She sighed with relief. She had made her interview on time. She had aimed to be there at least fifteen minutes early. She wanted to make a good impression because she really needed the job. She fished a small mirror out of her bag and checked that her hair was tidy. She had tied it up into a ponytail. She tucked a lock of her highlighted brunette hair behind her ear. Then she applied some lip balm.
She sighed as she wondered what the sheikh looked like. She had never met a sheikh before in her life. She was quite curious. Was he tall or short? Was he a horrible man to work for or was he very kind? All sorts of questions rushed through her mind.
“Please follow me this way,” the woman said to Emma. She sprang to her feet and followed the woman down the corridor. The woman stopped at a door to their left and knocked before she opened the door. She held the door open for Emma to walk in.
“Thank you,” Emma said to her before she walked in.
There was a tall man standing by the window. He looked as though he was getting dressed. He turned around to face Emma. Indeed he was getting dressed. He was just fastening the top buttons on his shirt. Emma gasped when she recognized the familiar face. It was the man she had spilled coffee on not too long ago.
“Oh my word,” she breathed with her eyes widened. His dark eyes widened also.
“Please have a seat,” he said as he gestured to the chair at his desk.
“I am sorry about earlier,” she said as she sat down.
“At least you made your interview on time,” he said. Emma was not sure if that was his attempt at a joke or if he was serious. She just flashed him a nervous smile. The sheikh sat down at the desk opposite her and pulled her résumé from his desk.
“Yes sir,” Emma said quietly.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said to her. That question; Emma hated it so much. When people asked her that, she was never sure of what to say, even if it was in a social setting.
“I am currently a student at the University of Dallas studying economics,” she said.
“If you are studying economics, then why apply for a reception job at an oil company?”
“I need a part-time job, and I wanted it to be at a reputable company where I knew that I would learn valuable skills. I have worked at reception before and therefore, I have the skills required for this position,” she said. She was trying to be honest but did not want to seem like she was just there for the money. Employers wanted people to be passionate about the jobs they were applying for.
“Reputable? What do you know about this company?”
