2. Willow
WILLOW
NOVEMBER PRESENT DAY
“Willow! You’re going to be late,” Jenna shouts from downstairs.
Deep breaths. You got this. It’s just an interview…One that you’ve been preparing yourself for over the last two years. A coveted spot at Andersons’ and Sons Law firm.
“Willow!”
“Coming,” I scream back.
I glance one more time at the reflection staring back at me.
My natural strawberry blonde hair is pulled up in a tight bun with only a few strands of my bangs framing my face.
My green eyes are sparkling, barely lined with black eyeliner and just a swipe of mascara.
My lips are tinted with the faintest shade off from my natural lips.
My glasses are clean and shiny, with no smudges on the lenses.
I decided to wear glasses today instead of my usual contacts because I've always felt like glasses fit me better, especially for the courtroom.
My outfit was carefully picked by my roommate, Jenna. She’s a fashion major at Wayne State. I’m basically a living, breathing doll she can dress up to try out the latest fashion trend or a new design she whipped together overnight. She’s brilliant.
The black split skirt suit fits my body perfectly. The skirt falls just below my knees but shapely hugs my curves. The white button-up under the black suit jacket is crisp. Nylons and a pair of black pumps complete the look.
I look like a lawyer. An actual lawyer.
“You got this, Willow. Just go in there and prove you belong on their team. They don’t just want you; they need you. Don’t take no for an answer,” I quietly whisper to myself, hyping myself up for the interview ahead.
“They don’t need you. No one does.”
I swear my inner voice will be the death of me one day.
As I pull my car into the parking structure for the Ren Cen, my heart jumps into my throat. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking do this. Who am I kidding?
I quickly get out of the car, making sure not to trip over my own feet while stepping into the elevator that takes me down to the ground level. As I step out front, I’m left stunned, staring up at the ominous building looming over me. It’s looking down at me, taunting me.
“I can do this,” I whisper before walking over to the multiple revolving doors.
As I step through inside, I swear it looks like the food court in a fancy mall. Tables are clustered around the center, and multiple restaurants circle them. Oh my God, if they have a Starbucks in here, I’m never going to bring home a paycheck.
I continue further into the building to the man standing at the information desk.
“Good morning, miss. How can I help you today?”
“Good Morning. Andersons’ and Sons, Attorneys at Law, please.”
“One moment, please.”
He types on the tablet in front of him. My eyes drift around the large open area.
Escalators are to my left and right while another large area is through the doors just on the other side of the information desk.
I can see multiple cars and trucks on display in the General Motors area.
This place would be fun to just explore for the day.
“Here you are, miss.” He hands me a trifold pamphlet opened up and points to a highlighted area. “Just take the elevators up to level two and then take the path to tower 200.”
“Thank you.”
My heart has barely lowered back into my chest, allowing me to breathe better, but only slightly.
My foot taps anxiously as the elevator ascends to the next level.
I keep shifting and bouncing without meaning to because I’m so nervous.
The man standing next to me is looking at me like I’m crazy. Maybe just a bit.
The door opens, sunlight streaming through from the surrounding windows to illuminate the path I need to take.
The man steps out behind me and continues walking the same way as I do.
I can hear the hesitation in his footsteps.
He’s as unsure as I am right now as to where the other one is going.
Are we both going to the same interview? No. Please no.
“Excuse me?” the man finally speaks up.
He increases his pace until he’s right next to me.
“Yes?” I answer as I continue toward Tower 200. I can see the sign up ahead.
“Are you here for an interview?”
My steps falter, and I nearly trip in these stupid heels. He quickly catches my elbow to steady me, causing a warmth to spread up my arm from his touch. Damn, I know I haven’t been with anyone in a minute, but geez.
“What gave it away?” I ask as he releases my elbow and takes a step back.
I finally get a better look at him. Tall, at least six foot three, if I had to guess.
Broad shoulders stacked with muscle that’s probably pushing the fabric of his suit’s stretch limit.
There’s no way this man’s a lawyer. He looks more like a bodyguard.
His dark hair is slicked back, accentuating his dark eyes, which show flecks of caramel in them when the light hits them just right.
“Your nervous energy. You can’t sit still. And you’re dressed to conquer the world,” he smirks as his gaze slowly devours me.
That smirk turns into a full smile as I narrow my eyes at him. Fuck, that smile. One that would cause any normal woman to go weak in the knees.
“Do you have an interview?” I counter.
My tone is neutral, but he can tell from the look in my eyes that I don’t like being scrutinized, and it causes that smile of his to get even brighter.
“Something like that,” he teases before turning and continuing down the hall.
He stops in front of a door with a large silver plaque on the wall.
Andersons’ and Sons
Attorneys at Law
Fuck. My. Life.
“Oh, are you coming in here too?” he asks as he holds the door open for me. There’s that devilish smirk again.
I glance at the plaque once more, willing it to shift the words to some other law firm, a doctor's office, anything other than the place I need to be inside within the next five minutes.
“Well?” he asks as he gestures inside with the sweep of his hand.
“I suppose so. Thank you,” I say in my professional tone, the one that doesn’t give away my emotions.
“My pleasure, Miss…” he says as I glance up at him while walking through the door. His whole presence is throwing me off.
“Willow.”
“Is that a first or last name?” he asks quietly as I continue past him to the secretary, but I ignore him.
“Willow Bennett. Checking in for my interview at noon, please,” I tell the woman.
She looks up at me, smiling, but then her smile falters, and she quickly stands.
She’s a little taller than I am, but it could be from heels.
Her long, platinum blonde hair is in soft curls, and her makeup is perfect.
Just barely any eyeliner, but even the subtle lines make her hazel eyes pop. She looks like a model.
“Sorry, Mr. Anderson. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s all right, Veronica. How are things going today?” he asks sweetly, and she seems to calm down instantly.
“Oh, they’ve been good, sir. Your father is already here in the third conference room. He’s waiting for…well, for you, Miss Bennett. If you would follow me…”
“That’s all right, Veronica. I’ll take Miss Bennett from here.”
“Yes, sir.”
She gives me one last smile before sitting back down at her desk to resume typing on her computer. The wave of anxiety that I was able to swallow down earlier is now rising back up into my throat.
“Mr....Anderson?” I ask, turning back to the man who’s definitely not a bodyguard standing extremely close behind me.
“Yep. Nice to finally meet you, Miss Bennett.”
He holds his hand out for me to shake, and I do. With each second he holds onto my hand, my stomach knots tighter. He doesn’t look like he’s irritated with me, only amused, and I can feel the blush heating my cheeks from embarrassment.
“Likewise, Mr. Anderson.”
He chuckles slightly at the way I say his name. After growing up in Texas with my grandparents before moving back to Michigan, I may have had a hard time phasing out my southern accent.
“Mr. Anderson’s my father, unless we’re in the courtroom. You can just call me Noah.”
“All right, Noah. Would you mind showing me where the conference room is?”
“It’ll be my pleasure, Willow.”