19. Chloe
19
Chloe
I smile at Amber’s low whistle. “You look amazing, Chloe. You’re totally gonna ace it.”
“Thanks,” I respond as I give my skirt one last smooth-over. I catch Amber’s reflection in the doorway from the mirror—pajamas on, hair up in a bun, and telltale dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t slept a second since I’d gotten that email yesterday and stayed up to prepare with me.
“You need to relax, Amber. It’s all going to work out,” I tease, as if she’s the one going on the interview.
She chuckles. “I’ll breathe easier once you land the job.”
“And what about when I have to move out?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Amber answers. I smile, knowing she’s trying to hide her emotions and is doing a terrible job at It. Carter it’s on the outskirts of San Francisco, and our current place isn’t going to cut it if I plan on sticking with this job for more than a month.
I go over to give Amber a big bear hug. “We’re going to be fine,” I say, though my stomach’s doing somersaults.
Amber returns the hug and then checks her sleep-tracking watch. She’s the only person I know who wears wristwatches to bed. “Time’s ticking, Chloe. You don’t wanna be late.”
“I’m on it,” I say and grab my purse. “Just don’t worry yourself sick while I’m gone.”
“Get outta here already!”
Hustling to the door, I toss back a, “Wish me luck!”
“Break a leg!”
I shoot her a grin, and with a blown kiss, I’m out the door, hurrying down to catch BART. Amber is right. I can’t afford to be late. My day off has to be worth it, especially since Daniel will probably chew me out tomorrow.
The BART ride is a wreck. I stand sandwiched between a man who doesn’t take his hygiene seriously and another woman who hacks her lungs out. Head down, I hurry from BART toward the Carter & Associates building. Oddly enough, despite having visited this neighborhood a few times in the past, I’ve never really noticed the building before.
As I approach, the tall building looms before me, its glass walls reflecting the small city’s bustling energy. My eyes travel upward, drawn to a massive window spanning most of the building’s width. That must be Jameson Huntington’s office—the man who’s the complete opposite of Daniel. Polite, accommodating, and a self-made billionaire known for designing the world’s most popular video games. Landing a spot here could be a game-changer for me.
Pun intended.
Taking a deep breath, I brace myself. Talking about myself during interviews is my Achilles' heel, but this time, I’ll push through the awkwardness. As I step through the revolving door, a friendly brunette behind a massive white desk greets me.
“Hello and welcome,” she smiles.
“Hi, I’m Chloe Summers. I have an interview.”
“Certainly, Ms. Summers. Here’s your visitor pass. Wear it while you’re in the building. You’re early, but Meera won’t mind. She’s setting up. Take the elevator to the fifth floor, and Nina will guide you from there.”
I nod in appreciation. “Thank you.”
“Of course. The elevator’s right over there,” she points.
I offer her another smile and pivot towards the elevator. My phone buzzes from my purse, but I ignore it. I press the elevator button and attach the visitor badge to my blazer. The elevator dings open, and I step inside, pressing the button for the fifth floor.
I’m a bundle of nerves by the time I reach the fifth floor. All the deodorant in the world can’t stand up to my nerves right now. My hands are trembling, and sweat is gathering under my pink blazer. It’s a good thing I wore it, or I’d be showing off some serious sweat stains.
Approaching another desk, I greet the woman there. “Hi, I’m Chloe Summers, looking for Nina.”
“That’s me. Have a seat. Meera will be with you shortly.” Her smile’s so bright, and I wonder if it’s a job requirement here.
I settle into a seat.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Nina offers.
“No thanks,” I decline. The last thing I need right now is a bathroom break.
The chair’s not the comfiest, and the room could use a splash of color. It’s all black and white—white walls, black desk, black chairs. An image of Andrews Enterprise pops to mind. What is it with offices and their lack of color these days?
“Ms. Summers,” a grey-haired, petite woman peeks around the door.
I stand and greet her with a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Chloe.”
“Please, come in,” Meera welcomes, ushering me inside to a conference table. “I’m Meera.”
The interview is intense. I've never faced someone who asked so many questions and presented so many scenarios and 'what if' situations, challenging my ability to think and work through them. Not even Daniel's HR team put me on the hot seat like this. Then the phone rings, and I silently thank whoever’s on the other end for the break. Meera picks up, her face twisting into a frown at the voice on the line. I can just catch the deep tones of the caller.
Meera ends the call a while later and smiles, “Congratulations!”
“I...what?”
“Mr. Huntington needs someone to start immediately. This search has gone on for too long and we have a big project coming up. We can’t afford any more delays, and from what I’m hearing from you, your answers are the best I’ve heard by far.”
The words hit me like a wave. I’m hired? Just like that? What about reference checks?
“I can’t start right away,” I manage to say.
“When can you start?”
“Two weeks,” I reply. “I need to give my current employer notice.”
Meera looks relieved. “Two weeks I can handle. Just don’t let me down, okay?”
“I won’t,” I promise.
Stepping out of the office. I feel the vibrant buzz of the businesses around me.
I did it. I really did it.
Amber will be through the roof. I whip out my phone and dial her number. The moment she answers, I blurt out the news.
“Time to celebrate!” Amber exclaims.
When I get home, I quickly change into casual apparel, and we spend the rest of the afternoon painting the city red. First, we hit our favorite café, where the barista knows our orders by heart. We sip on lattes and share a decadent chocolate cake as we chat about everything and nothing.
Then, on a whim, we decide to catch a matinee. We pick a comedy, and it’s just what I need—a chance to laugh and let loose. The movie ends, but our day is far from over. We stroll through the park and find a street performer playing the violin. The music is beautiful and haunting, and we stand there, lost in the melody until he finishes his piece.
As the sun begins to set, we head to a little boutique Amber’s been raving about. She insists I need more new outfits to match my new job, and who am I to argue? We try on outfit after outfit, giggling like schoolgirls in the dressing room.
Dinner is at a cozy Italian restaurant with the best pasta in the city. We toast to new beginnings, to friendship, and to whatever the future holds.
It’s dark when we finally make our way home, spirits high from the day’s adventures. But our smiles fade once we spot Alex waiting on our doorstep with a look of concern.
“Where have you two been? I’ve been calling.”
Amber gives him a quick peck on the cheek. Oh, right. They’re official now. Apparently, Alex performed wonders that I’d rather not imagine on their first night together. I always forget since Amber rarely talks about him. I know she’s been downplaying it, not wanting to rub her happiness in my face since I’ve sworn off love. It's sweet of her, but I’d never want to rob my friend of such joy. Her happiness radiates from her, even when she tries to hide it, and I can't help but feel happiness for her.
“Sorry, our phones have been on silent. What are you doing here?” I ask.
Alex holds up six plastic bags. “These are for you,” he says sheepishly. “I might’ve exaggerated to Daniel that you were sicker than a dog to go along with your story, and he sent all this over. He said you needed it since you’re too stubborn to go to the hospital.”
“Are you serious?” I take the bags and rifle through them to find an assortment of medicines and first aid supplies.
“You should have seen him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so worried about anyone, let alone ask about them.”
“Really?”
“He’s in love with you!” Amber suddenly shrieks.
“No...no. That can’t be. He probably...I dunno. He probably just feels guilty or something.”
My phone beeps—speaking of the devil.
It is a message from Daniel.
Daniel Andrews : Hi Chloe. Michelle would like you to join us for her birthday dinner in two days . Your presence would mean a lot to her.
“Look at this,” I turn the phone to Amber and Alex. “Not even a ‘how are you?’ Just straight to the point.”
“You’re holding enough medicine to stock a small pharmacy, and you think he doesn’t care?” Amber says pointedly.
“Chloe. Sorry, but I’m with Amber on this one. He might not know how to say it, but he’s showing you now. He’s in love with you.”