By Monday morning, my nerves were officially shot. The looming meeting with Princess Anna—and Julianne Kingsley, the Julianne Kingsley—felt like the start of some gladiator battle where the prize wasn’t freedom but professional validation.
I sat at my desk, trying (and failing) to focus on my notes when Alex strolled in, his usual air of smug confidence practically radiating off him. He tossed a file onto my desk like he was delivering a pizza.
“You’re up against Julianne? Interesting,” he said, leaning casually against the edge of my desk.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grinned, folding his arms. “She used to work for me. Talented, sure, but no sense of humor. Completely humorless, actually. If you want to win, just be yourself. She’ll bore Anna to tears.”
“Right,” I said, fiddling nervously with the edge of my notebook. “Because my ‘self’ is exactly what Princess Anna is looking for. What if Julianne doesn’t bore her to tears? What if she’s brilliant?”
Alex leaned down, his voice dropping to that teasing murmur that made my pulse race for all the wrong reasons. “Then I’ll just have to console you. Thoroughly.”
Before I could respond, Lucy appeared in the doorway, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
“God, you two are ridiculous,” she said, stepping into the room. “Also, Sophie, if you don’t win this interview, I’ll disown you.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lucy. Really helpful.”
She grinned, tapping the edge of my desk as she walked out. “No pressure, though. Just, you know, don’t screw it up.”
As the day went on, my anxiety only grew. By the time I dialed Darcy’s number, my palms were slick with nerves, and I had to pace my office just to keep myself from spiraling.
“Miss Hollis,” Darcy answered on the second ring, his tone brisk.
“Hi, Darcy,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I just wanted to check if there’s anything specific I should prepare for the meeting with Anna. You know, anything she’s particularly—”
“She’s particularly difficult,” Darcy interrupted, his tone colder than usual. “But I’m sure you’ll figure that out.”
I hesitated, thrown by his abruptness. “Right. Well, is there anything else you think I—”
“I don’t have time for this, Miss Hollis,” he said, cutting me off again. “Just be prepared and don’t waste her time. Good luck.”
Before I could respond, he hung up.
I stared at my phone, my chest tightening. What the hell was his problem?