Chapter 1 Kate Gets Wet

Oh man, talk about a disastrous day! Here I am, strolling through Canary Wharf, the financial centre of London. I have an interview today for a job I really want, and wouldn't you know it, the weather gods decided to rain on my parade, literally. My supposedly trusty umbrella turned out to be more like a sieve, letting every drop of rain soak me to the bone. I have to say, it wasnt raining when I set off for my interview and catching a taxi would not help my meagre finances

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, along comes Mr Showoff in his flashy red penis extension, zooming past me like he's on a mission to create a tidal wave. Guess who ended up being the unsuspecting victim? Yup, me. I was drenched from head to toe, my clothes clinging to me like wet seaweed. It's moments like these when you question your life choices, right?

But hey, there was a glimmer of hope shining through the rain clouds. I finally reached the building I was heading to, and stepping inside felt like entering a whole different world. It was like walking into a sunbeam, with white marble floors and dazzling crystal chandeliers illuminating the place. The warmth radiating from those lightbulbs gave me a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, my clothes would dry off soon.

Now, the thought of stripping down right there and then crossed my mind, but let's face it, that would've been a recipe for disaster. No need to add "indecent exposure" to my already soaking-wet troubles. So, I'll just have to make do with discreetly drying off as much as I can without causing a scene. Maybe I'll find a hidden corner or make use of the hand dryers in the restroom. Desperate times call for creative solutions, after all.

As I stood on the large doormat, vigorously shaking water off my clothes, a sharp voice cut through the air, filled with disdain and rudeness. 

“Do you have to shake water about like a dog out of a pond, it makes the marble floor slippery, its dangerous.”

It was clear that the person addressing me had little regard for politeness or empathy. Pausing mid-shake, I turned slowly, my gaze meeting the man who had dared to demean me.

"I beg your pardon," I retorted, my voice carrying a mix of incredulity and indignation. "Did you dare to call me a dog?"

The man before me was tall, exuding an air of self-importance. His dishevelled curls framed his face, and his blue eyes glittered. His expensively tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders, but his appearance only served to underscore the stark contrast between his external allure and his lacklustre manners. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and leaned against the wall crossing his ankles. 

I straightened my shoulders and looked up at him. “Nicely cut hair - check. Handsome face - check. Broad shoulders - check.” I ticked them all off on my fingers, “Very nice suit, Zegna?” I caught a nod from him on that one. “Tall - check. Oh and possibly handmade shoes - check. Almost the perfect man, maybe you could use your flashy black card to buy some manners!”

My response seemed to catch him off guard, his expression momentarily faltering. He faltered, his arrogance fading as he processed the weight of my words. 

I couldn't help but furrow my brow as my eyes caught a discreet sign with a car and an arrow pointing towards the stairs going down. 

"Well, well, well," I began, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I carefully chose my words, trying my best to keep my simmering anger in check. "Look who we have here, the guardian of the fast red chariot," I said. "It must be truly exhilarating to believe that your choice of wheels guarantees an unquestionably impressive...uh, manhood."

"It must be quite a thrill, thinking your car makes up for any...shortcomings," I continued, my tone dripping with sarcasm. I couldn't resist a dramatic pause, allowing my words to sink in before continuing. "And it's abundantly clear that you couldn't care less about how you drive in the rain or how fast you plough through puddles," I continued, my arms outstretched, presenting him with the undeniable evidence of his offence—my drenched appearance.

A pang of worry crept into my voice as I concluded, "But you know what? I have a job interview in just half an hour. I'm sure my prospective boss will be absolutely thrilled with my unique, waterlogged appearance. After all, nothing screams 'hire me' like showing up looking like I took a dip in the nearest puddle courtesy of a reckless driver."

The man tilted his head, a flicker of concern crossing his handsome face. "Come with me," he said, striding past me towards the bank of elevators. Without uttering a word, he gestured for me to step inside when the doors opened. 

“Go with you? You have to be shitting me.”

“Do you want to look as if you’ve just walked out of a shower, or do you want my help?”

“I would have settled for you not being a dick.”

“Suit yourself, he said stepping into the lift.

“Okay, okay,”  I said as I followed him. I got in the lift. “Stand there,” I said pointing to the farthest corner. “What floor?” I asked as I looked up at him. His blue eyes were sparkling now and the anger gone. I got the impression he was near to laughing.  

“Five.”

The elevator whisked us away, zipping up with surprising speed. And just like that, when the doors slid open again, we found ourselves in the posh foyer of a luxurious hotel.

"This way," he urged, leading me through an elegant archway that revealed a collection of high-end shops. My eyes were fixated on the second shop, its window adorned with beautiful clothes. Before I could protest, he held the door open for me with a gallant gesture. "I'm sure you'll find something in here," he offered, his tone laced with sincerity.

"But, wait," I stammered, attempting to back away. "I can't afford the prices in here!"

With a reassuring smile, he reassured me, "It's on me. Consider it my way of apologizing for the whole waterpark experience. Now, tell me, who is your interview with?"

"Violet Smith," I replied, my voice laced with surprise.

“I know Violet,” he chuckled, genuinely intrigued. “I’ll give her a ring and explain you might be a few minutes late.

I blinked in surprise at his unexpected revelation. "You know Violet? That's incredible!" I exclaimed, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the whirlwind of events. His offer to reach out to her and explain the situation took me aback, but in the best possible way.

"You would do that?" I asked, my voice filled with gratitude and disbelief.

"Absolutely," he replied with a reassuring nod. "Consider it done. I'll call Violet and explain everything while you go and find something fitting for your interview. Leave the conversation with the owner to me."

I couldn't help but feel a mix of astonishment and relief wash over me. It was as if fate had intervened to turn a frustrating encounter into a potential opportunity. With a grateful smile, I nodded and walked through the inviting doorway of the shop, filled with a renewed sense of hope.

As I began browsing the racks of exquisite clothing, my mind whirled with the surreal turn of events. Who would have thought that a chance encounter with a reckless driver could lead to a potential lifeline in my job search? I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards this mysterious man who, despite his initial brusqueness, had shown an unexpected kindness.

With renewed confidence and a touch of excitement, I started selecting a few elegant outfits, envisioning myself walking into that interview with poise and style. Little did I know that the path ahead had taken an unexpected turn, and perhaps, just perhaps, this unexpected twist of fate could lead to something remarkable.

I found the perfect outfit, a fine wool pencil skirt and waist-length jacket. It was perfect. A pair of new tights - the expensive ones I could never afford. The assistant helped me change and brought me a towel to dry my hair, while she took my shoes and gave them a wipe down. I felt like a new woman. I could get this job, no problem.