1

A bothersome noise from my alarm startles me a bit, making me half-open my eyes. I grimaced in annoyance, reaching out my hand to turn off the alarm. I hated waking up early. Nevertheless, I had to find a job because my dear father didn't want to keep paying for my studies, insisting I should earn my keep. Bah, nonsense.

"Hey, Hermione, wake up!" My roommate's shrill voice made me roll my eyes. Lucy acted as my second alarm clock.

I promptly got up and walked over to the mirror. My hair looked like a bird's nest, and the dark circles under my eyes were prominent. It was the result of studying at night and sleeping in.

"You can do this," I told myself. "Finding a job is easy," I tried to convince myself. "You have an interview today, and you'll come home with that job, got it?"

I nodded to myself.

After a long shower, picking out clothes, applying light makeup, and a gulp of coffee, I was ready.

"See you in the afternoon, H," Lucy bid farewell. At least she had a nice job as a waitress. I might try that, but patience isn't my forte.

"Goodbye, L."

I left the apartment in search of the bus stop a few streets away. As I neared it, I noticed the bus was parked, people getting on, and only one spot left. I hurried to catch it.

"Hey, wait!"

They didn't hear me.

"Stop!"

The bus started moving.

"Fine, just go!" I exclaimed, knowing they couldn't hear me.

This isn't working. I checked my wallet to see how much money I had. Damn, only 30 dollars. That was all I had. Maybe I'll wait for another bus. I looked at my watch, no, waiting for another bus wasn't convenient. It was late; the interview was at 8:00 a.m., and it was already 7:50.

I looked up to spot a taxi coming from a distance and flagged it down. It stopped.

"To the Pawlan building," I told the driver as I got in.

"Ah, it's one of those," the taxi driver admitted. We had already started moving.

I looked at him oddly.

"Excuse me?"

"One of the workers at Pawlan, right?" he glanced at me for a second.

"I don't know, I have an interview today," I checked my phone. I had several messages from the university group chat.

"My niece worked with them for a while, it ended badly."

I looked at him for a moment.

"How?" I didn't understand anything.

"Sorry for telling you this, but you seem like a good girl, and it wouldn't be good if the same thing happened to you as it did to my poor niece."

What?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I admitted.

"Forget it, sorry, I don't know what I'm saying."

At that moment, the taxi stopped; we had arrived at the huge building. I paid the driver and got out.

"Take care," the man said to me. I turned to him. "And one more thing, don't let him deceive you."

And he left.

I was confused, I didn't understand anything. Who is he? And why would he deceive me? I shook my head and focused on the interview. I walked through the huge glass doors, admiring all the luxuries this building had. The employees were in suits, super elegant, walking frantically back and forth.

The receptionists were on the phone. In the distance, I noticed the elevator leading to the other floors. I had to go to the top floor. I made my way quickly there, but a security guard intercepted me on the way.

"Are you looking for someone?" he asked with a deep voice.

"Oh, yes, I'm here for a job interview with Mr. Pawlan," I replied.

He laughed.

"Mr. Pawlan? He doesn't see girls like you who are looking for work, you're mistaken. Was there someone else?" he inquired.

I remembered when I called about the ad in the newspaper that needed a girl for reports and documents. They told me Mr. Pawlan would attend to me, and if he wasn't available, I should see his secretary.

"I think Mr. Pawlan's secretary will see me."

He looked at me for a moment.

"Go ahead."

He let me through, and I entered the elevator. I pressed the button for the top floor. The doors were closing, but a foot intercepted them.

A poorly dressed, sweaty guy appeared in my field of vision. His beard was slightly grown. He wore a hat and glasses. He entered, finally closing the doors.

What a sight, I thought.

"Are you here for an interview too?" I dared to ask him.

He gave me a quick look but didn't respond.

"Of course, you don't want to talk. Sorry, I'm just a bit nervous," I said. And it was true; when I got nervous, I couldn't stop talking. "I don't know how it will go, I don't know if I'll get the job. I hope that Mr. Pawlan has mercy on my existence."

"Do you know him?" the man asked for the first time; it seemed like his voice was hoarse and affected.

"No, I've never seen him. I just imagine that as the owner of all this, he must be somewhat arrogant."

I don't even know why I said that; there must be cameras in the elevator. I looked around disoriented.

"Oh no, there must be cameras in the elevator," I whispered. "They must have heard me say that." I covered my mouth.

"There aren't," he replied. That calmed me down a bit. I looked at him; I felt his gaze on me even though he was wearing glasses.

"Do you work here?" I crossed my arms. He shook his head. "I see. Well, why are you here?" I was being too insistent.

"Friends," he said.

"I see. Well... what's your name?"

"Spen."

"Very well, Spen, I'm glad I met you; I would like to have someone familiar in this place."

The elevator doors opened.

He nodded as he left. I followed him and noticed he entered an office. I walked straight to the desk of a blonde girl.

"Hello, good morning," I greeted. The girl was very elegant. At that moment, I felt intimidated for choosing blue pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and sneakers. And let's not even talk about my messy bun. If I hadn't applied some makeup, I would have looked like a vagabond.

"Can I help you with something?" she looked at me oddly.

"I'm here for a job interview. There was an ad in the newspaper, so I called, and a girl answered; she said the interview was with Mr. Pawlan, but if he wasn't available, then with you."

She pondered.

"Mr. Pawlan definitely won't see you, so it will be with me," her tone was arrogant.

Control, Hermione, it's for your job.

Her gaze shifted from me to behind me. She immediately stood up.

"Mr. Pawlan," she said.

I felt a presence standing behind me, and I was afraid to turn around. I did it. With trembling feet, I turned.

My expression was full of confusion. The man in front of me wasn't just any gentleman. He was a... he was a damn model from those girls' magazines. This guy was young, dressed in a suit, his demeanor serious, and his gaze penetrating. His hair was a mix between black and brown, falling across his forehead.

But what a man, my goodness.

"Apologies, sir, the lady came only for the job interview, which I'll handle," the voice of that blonde harpy was fearful.

"Take her to my office," the guy ordered, passing me by and entering his office. I assume.

I was astonished. I had never in my miserable life seen such a handsome, sexy... I have no words to describe him.

"You can go in, didn't you hear?" the harpy's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at her; she seemed angry, I suppose she didn't expect that reaction from her boss.

I bit my tongue to avoid saying a few choice words, but better not risk it. I rolled my eyes without her noticing and walked toward the door. Even the door seemed luxurious to me; I could make good money selling it for a few months.

The poverty mindset strikes again.

With trembling hands, I opened it. My jaw threatened to drop when I noticed that this office was much more luxurious than the entire building itself. It had two long white leather armchairs, a glass center table, a huge screen on one side with another large armchair facing it. There was a mini bar on the right with many bottles of expensive liquors. Behind was an enormous window that showed almost the entire city.

And in the center was his desk, very well organized, with his computer, reports, pens, and other items on top. He was there, sitting, observing me attentively. I guess my expression must have been worthy of a photo, right? I cleared my throat and approached him.

Don't let him intimidate you, H.

"G-good morning."

Great, stumbling from the start.

The guy pointed to the chair for me to sit. I sat immediately. He's young and the owner of this, pass on the trick, man. Oh yeah, his dad. Surely he put him in this chair.

"Name?" he wanted to know. His voice, his voice was so... manly.

Control.

"Hermione Hass."

"Tell me, Hermione, do you have work experience?" he leaned on the table, resting his elbows on it.

"Y-yes, I'm good with... hands," I stammered. His gaze made me nervous.

Ugh.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean," I cleared my throat, "with computers, I do all sorts of reports and... That," I swallowed hard.

Why on earth did I say I was good with my hands? He could have misunderstood.

"That's exactly what we're looking for. But tell me, Hermione, do you study? Are you a housewife? Do you have a partner?"

I opened my eyes in surprise.

"I study at night, I'm not a housewife," I chuckled a bit, "And no, I don't have a partner. Just an ex-boyfriend who can't get over me."

Perfect.

"The girls who have come haven't passed the test. They're given a week for that, to check if they're efficient and if they suit me. As you'll see, Hermione, none of them have passed. Do you think you can do it? It means getting up very early, being in my office with reports done and very organized before I arrive. If I notice any wrinkle on the page, that might cost you."

"No problem," I rushed to say, but apparently, I hadn't finished speaking because he gave me a strange look. "I'm sorry."

"You have to know that I come in at 6:00 a.m., which means you have to be here around 5:30, understand? Also, if it's necessary to come at midnight or in the early hours of the morning, you'll do it."

What, what? Midnight? Early hours of the morning? At least, will I get paid for the trial or what? I'm not going to wear myself out for nothing.

"Don't worry, miss, even if you don't pass the test, your work will be acknowledged, and you'll get paid," he now leaned back in his chair, "Any questions?"

Yeah, what's your phone number?

"No, everything is clear."

"Perfect, I need you to fill this out."

He handed me a sheet of paper and a pen. It was like a contract or something; I just had to put in my personal details, phone number, address, and blah blah blah.

I filled it all out, and from time to time, I got nervous because this gentleman wouldn't take his eyes off me.

By the way, what's his name? I only know his last name; would it be too much to ask? I handed him the sheet.

"Well, you can leave now; you'll start tomorrow morning."

I stood up.

"Umm, one question," I murmured. He looked at me. "What's your name?"

How embarrassing, goodness.

He furrowed his brow slightly.

"Seriously?" he asked with a bit of amusement in his voice.

I nodded.

"Spencer."

"Alright, see you tomorrow, Spencer," I suddenly stopped, "I mean, Mr. Pawlan. I'm sorry," I nervously chuckled as I backed away to leave. My back hit the door, so I turned it, opened it, giving Spencer an apologetic look, and walked out.

I breathed a sigh of relief once I was out of Spencer's reach. His secretary gave me a stern look.

"What? Are you going for the trial week?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied uncertainly.

She laughed.

"Good luck with that, girl," and she returned to her work.

I began walking towards the elevator with my mind in a whirlwind. God, Spencer was super different from other guys. His gaze attracted me, it was alluring. Just seeing his body, his lips... Damn, I'm in trouble.

As soon as I get home, I'll take a good cold shower.

There, I've said it.