chapter 1

It was a snowy January day in New York but that didn't stop Sara Atkins from going to her interview at Beaumont's.

The winter in America, especially New York, could be harsh, as Sara had quickly learned in the last two years she had lived here. The snow was thick, the temperature was freezing, the day dim and almost depressing it seemed. She couldn't let that get to her.

'Think positive, think positive', she chided herself. 

Sara nuzzled more into her thick jacket, her breath visible in the air. With every step she walked towards the big company, the more nervous she grew. Was she dressed accordingly? Who would interview her? Who would be her boss? Would she get along with the people and her higher ranks?

Sara's nose and cheeks were red, almost giving her a blushing look. She sniffled, cursing herself how she could have forgotten her tissues at home. 

The Austrian born girl with the Bosnian roots ran her hand over her hair. Sara had tied her thick brown hair, a typical Bosnian trait, into a low bun to keep it out of her face. Her makeup was kept minimalistic, even though she loved to do it heavy handed as she loved applying makeup, but it had to be appropriate for her interview. She had chosen a white shirt and a long black pencil skirt, along with heels.

Sara glanced at the end of the street and spotted a few taxis making its way slowly towards her. She took the chance and sprinted over the street, her heels clacking loudly in her ears, and with one last silent prayer swung open the doors to her new company; Beaumont's.

"Mrs Brown will be with you in a minute. Please sit down over there while you are waiting." 

"Thank you very much", I nodded at the secretary, took off my jacket which was taken by another kind receptionist, and sat down. I folded my hands and looked around the golden lobby, taking deep, shaky breaths.

I went through everything in my head again. 

Why I wanted to work here. How I had found the company. My experience. Why I was suited for this job. Why I was even in America in the first place. 

Nonchalant I ran my hand over my hair to pat it down, checked my makeup quickly, then analysed the lobby intently. Would it give away anything from the company? It was organized and clean - the offices might be that way too.

I almost shook my head. Of course it would be.

I almost shook my head. Of course it would be.

Beaumont's was a multi-purpose company and quite known in America. In fact, it was on the list of the top 5 companies, standing at third place.

That thought made my stomach grow heavy with uneasiness.

Not only was Beaumont a money company, this company also gave advice to other establishments and checked their accounting situation. I had heard through them by my ex-husband, husband, cheating husband? ... well, it wasn't important. He wasn't important right now.

I had heard from them, had called and asked if they hired people. That's what mattered.

My eyes fluttered over to the receptionist who smiled warmly at me. I managed a smile and her face lit up a bit more.

To my surprise, the company had invited me to an interview a week after I had sent my application. Much faster than I had thought it would.

Before I could further digest the situation I had found myself in, a tall woman stood suddenly next to me. I almost jumped up, and barely managed to suppress it.

"Mrs Atkins?", a woman in her forty's approached me with a polite smile, her brown eyes shining as I stood up. 

"That's me", I shakily answered and extended my hand. "You must be Mrs Brown." 

"That I am." 

We shook each other's hand. I was mindful of my handshake. Short but firm. Leaves a lasting impression. Hers was soft while her eyes laid on me.

"I imagined an older woman when we had received your application", she told me with an honest smile. 

"Oh, really?", I quickly said, then instantly corrected myself. "May I inquire as to know why?" 

"You are 25 years old?", she asked, pointing to the elevators. 

I followed her, scanning her attire. 

White shirt. Pencil skirt. Heels. Her greying hair in a low bun.

'Jackpot!', I yelled in my mind.

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"Please, no need for Ma'am." 

"Sorry, Mrs Brown." 

"Just call me Jessica", she smiled fondly at me. 

Bewildered, I blinked, biting back a remark. Everybody had warned me of American interviews, especially my American friends, but this was much nicer than I had ever imagined it to be. 

"Please call me by my first name too then." 

"Very well, Sara."

The elevator announced its arrival with a soft 'ding' and the golden doors slid open. Jessica pressed the button to the twentieth floor. Now I was more nervous about the elevator getting stuck on its way there.

"I wanted to confirm your age because of your experience. You have accomplished quite a bit for your age." 

"In Austria that's quite normal", I informed her. 

"You did your bachelor's degree at what age?" 

"I finished it with 21. My master's degree I got with 23." 

"You did a semester abroad in the US?" 

"At Iowa State University. Food technology and food science." 

"Quite something different compared to this position." 

"That it is", I honestly agreed.

Jessica looked at me. We were slowly reaching our destination, passing the fifth floor by now. "May I know why?" 

"An incident happened in my other field and I decided to leave it behind." 

Jessica silently gazed at me.

I sighed deeply. The truth would come out either way. "My husband cheated on me with my coworkers." Those words still stung. 

"Oh", Jessica's cheeks reddened. "I-" 

"I decided to return to my old path again. I went to the secondary college for occupations in the business sector in Austria. Accounting and economy had been my strengths, along with nutrition and languages." 

"Your English is indeed very good. What level do you have?", I could hear the relief in her voice. 

"C1."

Tenth floor. My heart was beating a bit slower now.

"Men are pig", Jessica suddenly said, gripping her folders tightly. She wrinkled my application in the process. This interview was more and more less interview-y than I thought it would ever be. "Have you been married for long dear?" 

"No. Barely two years. But we've known each other since I started going to University." 

"Ouch. My condolences." 

"Thank you."

Fifteenth floor.

God, what was going on?

Why were we talking about Noah for god's sake?

"I'll be blunt with you. You have gathered many work experiences in your 25 years of age. We need somebody young for this position, somebody with high-endurance and the fitting education. You fit all our needed aspects. This job isn't easy, nor is the boss." 

"Am I hired already?", I asked jokingly. 

Brown eyes met mine. "After the formalities most likely. Now, let's go to my office."

  ♡

Astonished, I stepped out of Jessica's office and shook her hand. 

"See you on Monday. 8 am sharp. The boss hates tardiness", she told me. 

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Jessica." 

She took my hands and squeezed them. "No, thank you. Please remember my words; the boss may get heated, but he's a good guy deep in his heart."

As I numbly walked to the elevator, only one single thought formed in my mind.

What had I gotten myself into?

This job must be something else if the interview was that easy.

She had been astonished that I had worked in three labs over summer, that I had done countless of internships for my college and that I had continued working throughout University. I didn't even need to say much when she had already given me the contract to sign.

The boss was a hazard. He was bluntly honest. He expected perfection. He only wanted perfection.

I could do that. I had to do that.

Or else I would be homeless.

I ran my hands over my hair and destroyed the bun the moment I stepped out of Beaumont's.

Good. Very good. Another problem solved:  I didn't have to face my family. I had a job. I had money again. I could continue lying to them. 

Now, that means no turning back now.

I gazed back to the skyscraper and swallowed heavily. 

'This is better than nothing', I told myself. I didn't have to tell my parents about my broken marriage yet. About the divorce. About the dept that it plunged me into. About almost being broke and homeless in New York.

One day I would have to tell them, and I would have to do a hell of a lot explaining, and I would do that. I really would do that. 

But not now. Not yet. The wounds were still to fresh and my heart was still bound to Noah, even though he had been unfaithful throughout the whole marriage ...

I shook my head.

No. No looking back anymore.

I didn't need him.

I had a job, a flat on my own and I would earn money again. We were in the midst of our divorce.

The future could only be bright from now on.