ZOE, 13th FEBRUARY 20.....
I wrench myself out of bed before sunrise, a mix of nerves and forced optimism churning in my gut. I drag myself to Tasha's ancient sedan and start the drive to the airport. I try to pump myself up with some old-school pop, but all I can think about is how utterly unprepared I am.
Still, I am not a quitter. By the time I get to the airport, I feel as ready as I'm ever going to be. I am rather glad for what my future holds. I sit for what feels like an eternity until the pilots announce our descent into Seattle.
I check into my hotel on the phone, dump my bag, and hail a taxi to the arrivals hall. A ridiculous banner with my name scrawled on it catches my eye, and relief washes over me as I spot Kate, my old high school bestie.
"What the fuck! Oh my gosh! Kate!" I shriek, my carefully constructed composure cracking.
"Zoe, bitch!" she yells back, engulfing me in a bone-crushing hug.
"Girl, it's been a minute! You look amazing," I tell her, sizing her up. She looks so good.
"Thank you, Zoe. You look great too!" She pauses. "How did you even know I was coming? I was so surprised to see your name on the schedule."
"Reagan told me. He asked me to apply for you at X Corp," Kate explains, looking slightly sheepish.
"That motherfucker," I mutter under my breath. Of course, he did. Has he always been on my side or not?
"Come on. I'll take you for a quick preview then we'll head straight for the interview," Kate says, grabbing my arm.
"Wait. The interview is today? What the actual fuck?" My carefully-built optimism crumbles.
"You had the date wrong, right?" Kate asks, her brow furrowed.
"Just get me there. Now!" I snap, pushing down the panic that threatens to overwhelm me.
We pile into Kate's car, and she drives like a bat out of hell through the city center. She parks in a space as big as the car and I grab my bag.
"I'll wait for you, Zoe," she says, giving my hand a squeeze.
"Okay," I reply, my voice barely a whisper.
I stare up at the skyscraper looming before me. Heights and heights of glass and steel stretching above me towards the sky. Even the sunlight gets swallowed by the vast walls. I'm already afraid of what lies in this building. The beauty of the blue glass reflecting in the sun is mesmerizing. It takes my breath away. I gulp down saliva and take to my feet into the building. The spacious reception invites me. People are moving here and there and a large, high glass round desk in gray takes prominence. I see three gorgeous brunettes seated behind it, busy working. I walk up to the one in the center and say:
"Hello."
"Hello. How can I help you?" she asks, her voice cool and professional.
"I'm here for a job interview."
"Name, please?"
"Zoe Middleton."
"Ah! Miss Middleton. It's good to see you. I'll inform the boss that you're here." She glances back and forth looking for Zoe's face.
She picks up her phone and dials a number. I am rather nervous at this time. Will I be able to hack it here? Am I good enough?
"You can go upstairs now."
I am escorted by a tall, handsome man. Seriously? Do they only hire genetically blessed people here? He has a chiseled face and gorgeous green eyes. We enter the elevator, and he presses the 20 button. It takes over ten minutes to get up. Twenty floors? Who the hell needs twenty floors? Is the CEO some kind of recluse? We arrive at the last floor. A large mahogany door stands a few meters away from the elevator. Before, I head to another desk, this time with a young blonde receptionist.
"Miss Middleton, the boss is ready to meet you. Please sign here." She pushes a digital pad towards me with a silver pen.
I take the pen, my hands shaking slightly, and sign in with my own shaky hand writing.
"The boss will see you now."
She leads a jittery and quivering me towards the mahogany door. I don't know what I'm about to face, but I should be mentally prepared for it. This is it, Zoe. Sink or swim. Don't screw this up.
The receptionist's smile is tight, bordering on pity. "Good luck, Miss Middleton."
I take a deep breath, trying to channel some of that cheerleading energy from my past life. Fake it 'til you make it, Zoe. Remember?
I reach for the heavy mahogany door, the polished wood cool beneath my fingertips. This is it. My second chance. My redemption arc.
I push the door open, and that's when disaster strikes.
The strap of my ridiculously oversized tote bag snags on the doorknob. I yank, expecting it to come free, but instead, the whole damn bag gives way. My carefully curated life – or at least, what I managed to cram into that bag – explodes at the CEO's feet.
My phone goes skittering across the plush carpet. My makeup bag empties its contents in a kaleidoscope of color. My ridiculously expensive sunglasses, a relic from a more glamorous past, bounce off something solid with a sickening thunk. And my resume, the one document that actually matters in this situation, flutters to the floor like a rejected love letter.
I stand there, mortified, as my entire life is displayed in a chaotic mess. I can practically feel the CEO's eyes on me, assessing, judging.
"Oh. My. God," I whisper, the words a choked plea.
My brain short-circuits. Dignity be damned. I drop to my knees, scrambling to gather the scattered remnants of my dignity. My fingers fumble with tubes of lipstick, tangled necklaces, and crumpled receipts. Each item I pick up seems to mock me, a tangible reminder of my current state of disarray.
As I reach for my phone, I glance up, finally meeting the CEO's gaze.