The shrill alarm blared, jolting Benita awake. She groaned, fumbling for the snooze button and slamming her hand on the bedside table to silence it.
“Damn it,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. She glanced at the clock—8:30 a.m. Less than ninety minutes to prepare for her first interview of the day.
Throwing off the covers, she darted into the bathroom, her mind racing.
It had been two weeks since she’d submitted her resignation letter. Two weeks since she’d grown tired of endless late nights, empty promises, and being undervalued by her boss. It had also been two weeks since she’d last seen Adrian.
Her chest tightened as she thought of him. No calls, no messages, no way to reach him. She didn’t have his number or even know where he lived. The silence between them stung more than she was willing to admit.
“Focus, Benita,” she told herself firmly, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. “Today is about moving forward. Forget about him.”
She pulled on a tailored navy-blue suit and a crisp white blouse. After smoothing down her hair and checking her reflection one last time, she grabbed her bag and glanced at the clock. 9:25 a.m.
“Great,” she muttered, dashing out of her apartment.
She flagged down a taxi on the busy street. “145 Grace Avenue, please,” she told the driver, sliding into the backseat.
The ride felt agonizingly slow as the cab weaved through traffic. Benita tapped her foot nervously, her thoughts bouncing between the interview ahead and the ever-present ache of wondering why Adrian had disappeared.
By the time the taxi pulled up to the sleek office building, it was 9:50 a.m. Benita paid the driver and hurried inside, the click of her heels echoing against the polished marble floors.
The lobby was grand—modern and sprawling, with high ceilings and gleaming fixtures.
But Benita barely noticed, her eyes scanning for the elevator signs. She spotted them and sprinted toward the nearest set, her breath hitching.
As the elevator doors slid open, she almost collided with a man stepping out.
“Sorry!” she blurted, stepping aside.
“No problem,” the man replied, his voice smooth but distant.
Benita didn’t look up, too focused on getting to the 12th floor on time. Yet, for a fleeting moment, something about him felt oddly familiar.
The elevator dinged, breaking her thoughts, and she stepped off.
A receptionist directed her to the waiting area where several candidates were seated.
Each was impeccably dressed and exuded confidence, their postures straight and their expressions calm. Benita swallowed hard and adjusted her blazer before sitting down.
“Deep breaths,” she whispered to herself, clutching her bag.
Time seemed to crawl. Finally, the assistant stepped into the room and called her name.
“Benita Charles?”
She stood quickly. “That’s me.”
The assistant gestured toward a large wooden door. “Please, follow me.”
Benita smoothed her skirt, exhaled, and walked through the door into the interview room.
The space was expansive and filled with natural light. A long conference table dominated the center, with a panel of interviewers seated around it. Benita took a step forward, her eyes scanning the faces before her—and froze.
At the head of the table sat Adrian.
Her heart skipped a beat. She blinked rapidly, convinced she was imagining things.
But no, it was him. Adrian, sitting in a perfectly tailored charcoal-gray suit, his sharp jawline and piercing gaze as striking as ever.
“Boss, this is the next interviewer, Benita Charles. Marketing expert,” one of the panelists announced, glancing at Adrian for confirmation.
Adrian’s head lifted from the file in his hands, his expression unreadable. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.
Benita’s breath caught in her throat. What is he doing here?
Her mind raced as the pieces fell into place. Adrian wasn’t just a senior employee or a consultant. He was the CEO of the company.
Her jaw dropped, the realization hitting her like a freight train.
The panelists looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to introduce herself, but Benita couldn’t move.
She stood rooted to the spot, her brain struggling to catch up with what was unfolding in front of her.