I am waiting in a room full of potential applicants—a few who look like strippers—all with the hope of getting the job. I wonder why they come dressed half naked. Is seduction the only way they think they can get the job? Why do some women think so little of themselves? I pray the boss is not like all those bosses who are looking for a personal assistant who helps in other areas like his bedroom, if you know what I mean. A few others dressed more professional than me look like they have been in this profession far longer than I have. It's making me feel unqualified with my MBA right now.
I was eager to get this job because the money would help my mama and I. Being a single mother is never easy, but she pulled it off. She brought me up in the best way possible. I never really got to know who my father is or where he is from because every time I ask mama about my father, she tells me that he was a one—night stand. And while I believed there was more to the story, I knew better than pushing her to tell me. I am not forcing the issue, and I know she is silently grateful for that.
I am brought back to earth when the secretary calls my name. She is a blond with big grey eyes and a pretty smile. I walk up to her table.
"Hi, I am Joan, you must be Katherine. Walk to the door on the left. He is waiting for you."
"Alright, thank you," I say, walking to the door while saying a silent prayer before knocking.
"Come in." I hear a husky voice say.
I walk into a beautiful office. The walls are painted black with golden lines all around it, with mahogany brown in some places. On my left is a wall adorned with white glass, a tile thing I think, with a beautiful golden line pattern on it. There are two black armchairs and a two—seater couch with a brown wooden coffee table in the middle. The windows have two green plants in front of it. The desk area has this long book shelf behind it. There are two black chairs in front of the brown wooden desk. The person behind the desk has his nose buried in some documents, so he has not seen me yet.
"Come and have a seat," the man says. His voice sounds very familiar, but I hope it's my mind playing a trick on me.
"Thank You, Sir."
"Let's begin," he says finally lifting his head. Once he does it's like all the blood leaves my body, making me freeze on the spot. I can't believe it's him. The one person who I thought, or rather prayed, I would never see again. He made my life a living hell in high school. My sworn enemy, Lorenzo Costanzo.
He has changed. He was handsome before, but he is even more attractive now with his grey shirt unable to hide a fantastic chest... I stare into his beautiful green eyes forgetting why I am here.
"When you are done staring, I would like for us to begin," he says acting like he does not know who I am.
"What is your name?" he says.
Is he really asking me that question? I can't believe he is acting like he does not know me. Maybe he is asking to be sure.
"My name is Katherine Luciano," I say, and I genuinely wish he does not remember who I am after what he did to me in high school.
"What school did you go to?"
"I attended NYU."
"I am talking about your high school."
"I attended Stuyvesant high school," I say giving up all hope of him not figuring out who I am.
"Hm, interesting."
"Can I ask something, sir?"
"Sure, why not."
"I find it weird that you care only about my high school information. Please, why is that?"
"Did you really think I would forget you, Bella?" He says with a smirk on his lips.
Oh no! He remembers me. He just called me by the name he always used in high school. I am totally not getting this job.
"Then why did you act like you did not know me a minute ago," I say.
"Because I felt like it," he says, still acting like the same jerk he always was.
I don't say anything but give him a look that says 'seriously?' I can't believe that deep down I wish he had changed. He stands up and walks towards the windows giving me a view of his gorgeous ripped abs underneath his shirt. He turns his back on me showing off his amazingly broad shoulders. But even with such a fantastic body and a handsome face he still has the heart of a devil. What a shame!
"I want you here Monday morning, don't be late."
"Are you saying I have the job?" I ask.
"Do I have to be more explicit for you to understand?"he asks.
"No, you don't."
"Good! See you on Monday morning with my coffee; black, no sugar."
"Alright sir, but I have to say, we did not even have a real interview. Not that I am complaining or anything."
"Bella, I have known you for almost half of our lives. I know you won't be a threat to me, and from your resumé I knew you were good for the job even before you walked in."
"Oh! Alright then, thank you." I say, happy I got the job but also feeling worried deep down. Did I get the job because I am qualified, and he knows me? Or is there another reason? I will have to wait and see.
"See you on Monday," I say walking out of his office.
"Don't be late!"
While walking out of the building, I call mama to give her the good news, but she does not pick up. I am guessing she is in a meeting. She sends a message a few minutes later saying I should meet her for lunch in an hour.
I grab a taxi and take it home to freshen up, to meet up with her in an hour.
I get home, shower and change into something more casual. I am wearing a black cami, a NYC tank top, pink and black striped high—waisted pants and a pair of patent leather pumps. I order an Uber to the restaurant we are meeting at.
I arrive and walk in, already knowing where she will be sitting since this is her favourite restaurant.
"Hi, Mama," I say sitting down.
"Hi, baby girl, how was the job interview?"
"It was quite strange, but I got the job."
"I am happy for you, and what do you mean by strange?"
"I will explain after eating, I am quite hungry."
