Chapter two
I woke up to the sound of my doorbell ringing loud and relentless. Groaning, I stood up, my eyes still half-closed and my body not fully out of sleep mode.
"I'm coming," I mumbled, lazily walking over to the door, wondering who could be there.
"Mom?!" I exclaimed in shock.
"OMG, Jammy! I knew it!" she said, pushing me aside and stepping in.
"You knew what? And what are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" she snapped. "I knew you'd get drunk and be late for your interview!"
And then it clicked.
"Oh my God! What's the time?!" I gasped, panicking.
"It's 7:40 a.m., for Pete's sake! I can't believe you let your younger brother talk you into clubbing when you have an interview today!" she yelled.
"What should I do, Mom? The interview is at eight!" I said, pacing back and forth.
"You're really screwed, Jammy! I tried my best to get to you, but you wouldn't pick up your damn phone!"
"I don't even know where it is! And can you stop talking for just a second so I can focus?" I yelled.
"So I'm the problem now, huh?"
"Oh my God—Mom!" I shouted, heading straight to my room.
Yanking open my closet, I threw on an outfit, fixed my hair quickly, grabbed the documents I needed, and rushed out, driving off in my mom's car.
A glance at my wristwatch told me it was 8:30 a.m.
Gosh, I was thirty minutes late.
I arrived at the company's parking lot and jumped out of the car, heels clicking against the pavement as I dashed toward the entrance, my file in hand.
"Hi… I'm here for an interview!" I said breathlessly to the security guard.
He pointed me in the right direction which was on the third floor.
The elevator was taking forever. I tapped my foot, waiting. One minute. Two. Still no sign of it.
Screw it!
I bolted for the stairs, heart pounding as I skipped two steps at a time. By the time I reached the third floor, my chest was heaving. I paused for a second to catch my breath before joining the others already seated.
They all looked so composed except for a blonde girl beside me was mouthing something, clearly rehearsing. I sat down quietly, trying to collect myself.
The receptionist kept coming in and out, calling names one by one. I sat there quietly, nerves tingling, wondering when my turn would come. When the blonde girl was finally called, it hit me . I was the last one left.
A wave of panic washed over me.
Had they already called my name? Did I miss it somehow?
Fifteen minutes passed before the blonde girl returned, her expression saying it all—she didn't get the job. Another five minutes ticked by. Still no sign of the receptionist.
I couldn't take it anymore.
Rising from my seat, I walked over and gently knocked on the door. The receptionist opened it, her eyes scanning my face with confusion.
"Hi…" I said with an awkward smile. "Is Jamila Frankson not on the list?"
Her brows furrowed. "Are you Jamila Frankson?"
I gave a small nod.
"Wow… you were late! I'm sorry, but we already have someone for the position you applied for."
My heart sank.
"But I was only thirty minutes late… is there nothing you can do?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
She shook her head coldly. "Time consciousness is one of the things we look out for in our employees, miss. I'm sorry."
And with that, she slammed the door right in my face.
I felt like a complete loser as I stood in front of the elevator. Maybe it really was my destiny to stay jobless. With a heavy sigh, I waited for the doors to open. When they finally did, I stepped inside, looking completely haggard. A man was already there, and I gave a small, polite bow, too heartbroken to say a word.
"You alright?" he asked after I sighed again, a bit louder this time.
A silent shake of my head was all the answer I could give. I didn't even bother to look at him.
Then he chuckled.
My brows twitched slightly. What the hell was so funny?
"Are you a worker here?" he asked casually.
"I wish," I muttered, and he burst into laughter.
Finally, I turned to look at him, confused, a little annoyed, and honestly too drained to hide it.
"Were you one of the candidates for the interview?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied just as the elevator reached the ground floor. The doors slid open, and I stepped out, only to realize he was following right behind me.
"Judging by the look on your face, I guess it didn't go well," he said with another laugh.
A small nod was all I gave in return. His amusement wasn't helping.
"You're really amusing. Can I have a look at your documents?" he asked.
That stopped me. "Why?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? I might be able to help."
Suspicion crept in. "Do you work here?"
"Kinda."
The answer made no sense. I wanted to ask what exactly he meant by that, but for some reason, I let it go and handed over my file.
He flipped through the pages, nodding slowly as he read. "Jamila Frankson… Bachelor's degree in Marketing," he said, glancing up at me with a soft smile.
"That's me," I said, laughing awkwardly.
"Well, that's nice, Jamila. I've taken your contact. I'll get back to you." He handed the file back.
"Thanks…" I replied, still thoroughly confused as I walked away, glancing over my shoulder one last time..
There was no way I was going back to my apartment, not with Mom there, probably pacing and waiting to grill me about the interview. Just thinking about it made my blood boil. Liam really had no business telling her about it in the first place. And to make things worse, he'd been the one who talked me into clubbing last night.
Instead, I drove straight to Serena's place. She was on night duty, so I figured she'd be home and probably asleep. After ringing her doorbell for what felt like forever, she finally cracked the door open, looking sluggish.
"You're not even awake!" I muttered, brushing past her.
"Did you not attend your interview?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
"Why else would I be in this outfit?" I flopped down on her couch like a bag of disappointment.
"What happened?"
"I missed it. I was late," I mumbled, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.
"Oh my God, Jammy! I'm starting to feel guilty now…" she said, sitting beside me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
My gaze shifted toward her as I sat upright. "Where did you and my brother go after ditching me?"
Her expression shifted instantly. What had been concern a second ago turned to discomfort.
"Nowhere… I wasn't feeling too well, so I asked him to bring me back home," she said quickly, her tone a little too defensive. Something in the way she spoke told me she was hiding something and I really hoped it wasn't what I was thinking.
"Okay," I said casually, turning my attention back to the TV.
"You kept long in the washroom. I came looking for you but couldn't find you."
That gave me an opening. "Oh, I was in the men's washroom," I said, then smiled. "Hooked up with a hunk"
Her head whipped toward me. "You what?"
I laughed. "I know, it's wild. But it's true. He was so handsome, Serena , even you would've wanted him."
She gasped. "No! I would never! That's the craziest thing I've heard in my entire life!"
"Well, I'm glad you heard it from me, then," I giggled.
At some point, sleep had crept onto me without warning. When I finally woke up, the screen on my phone was lit with several missed calls and voicemails from Mom plus a text message from an unknown number. Curious, I tapped on the message first.
It was from the man I'd met after the interview. The one in the elevator. He said he had a job offer for me and asked that I meet him at his office the next day. It was signed, The CEO's office.
My heart skipped a beat. Was he the CEO? A quiet gasp left my lips as the realization hit.
A spark of hope flared inside me. Without hesitation, I called Mom, telling her I was at Serena's place and would fill her in on the interview later. After hanging up, I shared the news with Serena, who squealed and hugged me so tight it nearly knocked the air out of my lungs. Still in a daze, I headed back to my apartment, trying to come up with a convincing lie for Mom.
"Mom?" I called out as I stepped inside, but silence greeted me.
In the kitchen, a neatly decorated cake sat on the counter, beside a note.
"Congratulations on your new job… I believe in you, sweetheart.
Sorry I couldn't wait…had an urgent meeting.
Love, Mom."
Tears pricked my eyes. She'd already believed in something I hadn't even accomplished. How was I supposed to tell her I missed the interview?
Maybe it was better to let it go. Hopefully, tomorrow's meeting would turn that lie into truth.