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“When you get in there, be tough,” she tells me. “He tries to intimidate people. If you want to work here for real, don’t back down. You got me?”
“I got you,” I tell her. “Thanks for the tip.”
She nods as the doors open and I step out. I fight the urge to look back. I don’t want to look weak or nervous. Uncomfortable. When I see Ryan Shadowvale for the first time, I want him to know that I’m a lady who means business. I’m serious. He doesn’t need to know that I’m broke as hell or that I’m desperate. I don’t think my roomie would have sold me out like that, anyway. She probably asked him for a favor. That’s all. Besides, all he needs to know is that I’m a good worker.
That’s it.
I’m prompt, I’m respectful, and I’m good at just about anything. Even if I’m not great, I’m proficient. Besides, I have a damn master’s degree. That has to count for something, even here. I get that this is a lowly receptionist job, but it’s something. Once I get my first paycheck, I can get Beatrice the money I owe her.
“You’re going to be fine.” I say this out loud, awkwardly, but quietly. Then I walk forward. I’m heading toward more than a paycheck. I’m heading toward my whole future. Nothing is holding me back here. It’s just me versus the world.
I focus on putting one step in front of the other: a skill my dad taught me. I used to freak out and get panic attacks that would morph into asthma attacks, so he used to come up with all of these different ways to help me stay calm. Focusing was a key objective for both of us.
This floor is beautiful. Pristine. I don’t know what the floors are made of, but they’re black and shiny. Marble, maybe? Would a building this high have marble floors? I can’t really tell. There are a couple of plants by the windows, a few chairs that look too nice to sit in, and a receptionist sitting at a desk.
A man.
He stares at me as I approach.
Somehow, I get the feeling that nobody comes up here unless they have a scheduled meeting, and nobody gets past this guy. He doesn’t stand or smile. He just looks at me. I realize that he really is some sort of guard dog. There’s nothing in this lobby that makes the place seem comfortable - no water, no snacks, no signs of any sort. There’s nothing that says, “RESTROOM THIS WAY.” It’s just him and the few chairs.
“Hello,” I say.
He presses his lips tightly together. Okay, so saying hello isn’t the vibe here. Noted.
The man has the most perfect eyebrows I’ve ever seen in my life. They’re dark and beautiful, but not too busy. He’s got short brown hair and matching eyes. His jawline is sharp and pointy. Seriously, if Shadowvale is half as hot as this guy, I’m in trouble. My pussy clenches. How long has it been?
Too long.
He waits, as though he wants me to tell him why I’m here. Suddenly, I feel like I’m wasting this dude’s time, which I’m not. I was invited.
“I have an appointment with Ryan.”
“Who?”
Shit.
I’ve said the wrong thing. Of course. Hopefully I didn’t completely fail the first of what will undoubtedly be a series of tricky tests. They’re all going to be designed to make sure I do everything I’m supposed to do, of course.
I don’t know everything, but I get that respect is important to people like this. It’s important everywhere, but the wealthy citizens of Siren City are on an entirely different level. I get that. If I want a real decent chance at getting this job, I need to at least pretend to be polite.
“Mr. Shadowvale.” I stare, meeting the dude’s eyes. I might have made a very basic mistake, but the least I can do is act like I’m confident enough to be here. I deserve to be here, I remind myself. Grad school sucked. I’ve earned this interview.
“What time is your appointment?”
“Nine.”
“It’s 9:02.” The man frowns. I’ve offended him.
“I’m sorry. The elevator ride took a bit longer than anticipated.”
Yeah, I’m not leaving. If he’s trying to scare me off or suggesting that I’ve somehow missed my appointment - which I haven’t - that really isn’t going to work. I grew up with my mom’s boyfriends. I grew up with literal grown men who hated me when I was a kid. Those assholes scared me. This guy is an equal. I’m not afraid. There’s no power exchange here.
“You’re late,” he continues. Is he surprised I’m not offering to leave or reschedule? Two minutes is nothing.
“As we’ve established, I arrived on time and came up in the elevator. Is Mr. Shadowvale ready to meet?”
“He appreciates promptness.”
