Never Got Over You -Whitney G. Page 0,19

you should ask for something other than the clown-face bitch look, you know?”

I walked out before they could utter another word, coming face to face with the tour guide.

“Ah, Miss Kennedy.” He smiled. “You can follow me now. You’re in Group D.”

I started following him through more frosted glass hallways. After we’d walked for five minutes, I realized no one else was joining us.

“Is there anyone else in Group D?” I asked.

“Nope.” He opened the door to an open and airy room with a white leather sofa and a coffee bar at its center. “It’s just you. Someone will come and get you when it’s your turn to meet with the board.” He made me a small cup of coffee and handed it to me.

“Good luck today.” He headed to the door.

“Wait a minute.”

“Yes, Miss Kennedy?” He looked over his shoulder.

“Am I in this group because I received the worst test score?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He looked genuine. “Even if I did, they’d fire me if I revealed that type of information.”

I nodded, wondering if I’d misread all of the so-called “signs.”

“For what it’s worth, your score can’t be that bad,” he said, stepping into the hallway. “The CEO is only making an appearance at your interview.”

the reckless rage

Kate

I PRESSED MY FACE AGAINST the massive window, trying not to check my watch for the umpteenth time. My interview was supposed to be “anytime between seven and seven thirty,” but it was now nearing noon.

Have they already picked someone else? Are they trying to figure out the best way to break the news to me?

My mind raced a mile a minute, but there were no answers to be found. No staff from Pier Autumn Coffee ever entered into the room to confirm or deny my thoughts.

Holding back a sigh, I looked down and spotted a sleek black luxury car speeding, then swerving into the company’s private turnaround entrance across the street. It parked right on top of the company logo, right above the sign that our tour guide specifically said was illegal.

A suited man stepped out, and then a grey and white dog jumped out from the passenger side.

Even with his back turned, I could tell he was an ass by the way the doorman slowly approached him. By the way he kept walking away without even acknowledging him.

I hope he doesn’t work here...And that his car gets towed.

“Miss Kennedy?” A man who looked about my age cleared his throat, making me turn around. “The board is ready for you now.”

I grabbed my bag and followed him down a never-ending hallway, straight toward an oversized black door. When we were halfway there, he stepped aside and motioned for me to walk the rest of the way alone.

Confused, I continued walking—trying not to stop and stare at the other subtle homages of Edgewood that were etched onto the walls.

I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, and I found myself inside the most opulent and stunning boardroom I’d ever seen in my life.

With wall to wall panoramic windows that revealed a stunning view of the Puget Sound on the right side, and the silver skyline on the left, I had to bite my lip to prevent my jaw from dropping. Its high-vaulted ceiling was stamped with wooden beams that held six shimmering chandeliers. The glossy mahogany table at the center of the room was set with seventeen plush red chairs―eight on each side and one at the center.

“Good afternoon, Miss Kennedy.” A grey-haired man entered the room behind me. “I’m Joseph Jewell and I’m the chair of the board. Our apologies for starting your interview so late today, but our CEO ran into a bit of trouble with one of his private jets.”

He has more than one? “That’s fine,” I said, smiling. “I totally understand.”

“We’ll have to start the first part of your interview without him.” He pointed to the front of the room. “Feel free to take your place there, set up any materials you may have, and let us know the moment you’re ready to begin.”

I obliged and moved to the podium. I set my purse on top of it and inserted my flash drive into the mini-device that was next to the screen. I organized the flashcards for my five-minute pitch and made sure that my cell phone’s ringtone was set on silent.

Taking a deep breath, I silently counted off in my head, like I was about to perform on a stage.

“And one ... two ... one,