FEISTY

CHAPTER FIVE: THE INTERVIEW

The towering glass building loomed ahead, sleek and intimidating. Lindiweh tilted her head up, her nerves kicking in full force.

Breathe, Lindiweh. You’ve got this.

She walked through the large glass doors, her heels clicking against the marble floors. The reception area was modern and elegant, filled with employees moving briskly.

She approached the front desk. "Good morning, I’m Lindiweh. I have an interview scheduled for 10 AM."

The receptionist, a stylish woman in her early thirties, glanced at her screen and smiled. "Ah, yes. You’re here for the executive trainee position. Please have a seat; you’ll be called in shortly."

Lindiweh nodded and moved to the waiting area, her hands gripping her bag tightly.

Other candidates sat around, some reviewing notes, others tapping nervously on their phones.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours until a smartly dressed woman stepped out of the office doors.

"Lindiweh?"

She shot up. "Yes!"

"Right this way, please."

Lindiweh followed her, forcing herself to stay calm. The woman led her down a sleek hallway before stopping at a door labeled Executive Conference Room.

"Good luck," the woman said before pushing the door open.

Lindiweh stepped inside.

Three interviewers sat at a long table, their expressions neutral but observant.

"Good morning, Miss Lindiweh," one of them said. "Please, have a seat."

Lindiweh sat down, smoothing her skirt as she met their gazes.

The older man in the center adjusted his glasses. "So, tell us why you’re the right candidate for this position."

Lindiweh straightened her back, her voice steady. "I believe I have the skills, determination, and adaptability required to thrive in this role. I’ve always been passionate about—"

The door suddenly opened.

A figure stepped in.

Lindiweh turned her head—then froze.

Standing there, with the same dark eyes and confident smirk, was the mysterious guy.

Her stomach dropped.

What was he doing here?

The older man smiled. "Ah, Mr. Desmond, you’re just in time."

Lindiweh’s breath hitched.

Desmond?

Her eyes widened as realization hit her like a freight train.

This wasn’t just some mysterious guy.

This was the son of the CEO.

And he was about to sit in on her interview.

Grabbing her neatly packed bag, she took one last deep breath and headed out.

Lindiweh forced herself to breathe.

She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but she refused to let it shake her.

Instead, she kept her expression neutral and turned back to the panel as if nothing had happened.

"As I was saying," she continued smoothly, "I’ve always been passionate about growth and innovation. I believe my problem-solving skills and adaptability make me an excellent candidate for this position."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him take a seat at the far end of the table. He leaned back, watching her with an amused glint in his eyes.

The older man nodded, seemingly pleased. "That’s good to hear, Miss Lindiweh. Can you tell us about a time when you faced a challenge and how you overcame it?"

Lindiweh gave a slight smile. Now we’re talking.

"As a student balancing academics and work, I once faced a situation where I had multiple deadlines—an important coursework submission and a major project for my part-time job. Instead of letting the pressure overwhelm me, I created a structured plan, prioritizing urgent tasks while ensuring quality wasn’t compromised. Through time management and discipline, I successfully met both deadlines and delivered strong results."

One of the female interviewers nodded approvingly. "That shows great leadership and problem-solving skills. Impressive."

Lindiweh kept her posture straight, confidence growing.

Another interviewer leaned forward. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Lindiweh had prepared for this. "In five years, I see myself as a key contributor to this company, taking on leadership roles and working on high-impact projects. My goal is to grow within the organization, learning from experienced professionals while also bringing fresh ideas to the table."

The panel exchanged glances, seeming impressed.

But then—he spoke.

"So, Feisty," the mysterious guy—or rather, Mr. Desmond—said smoothly, "you seem very sure of yourself. But tell me… what do you do when things don’t go your way?"

Lindiweh’s pulse jumped, but she didn’t let it show.

She turned to him, tilting her head slightly. "I adjust and push forward."

A slow smirk spread across his lips. "Interesting."

The lead interviewer cleared his throat, bringing the attention back. "That will be all for now, Miss Lindiweh. We appreciate your time."

Lindiweh gave a polite nod. "Thank you for the opportunity."

She stood up, gathering her things, and walked toward the door.

As she reached for the handle, a voice stopped her.

"Good luck, Feisty," Mr. Desmond said, just loud enough for her to hear.

Lindiweh didn’t turn around. She simply pushed the door open and walked out, her chin high.

The moment she stepped into the hallway, she finally let out a slow breath.

That had been intense.

But she did it.

Now all she had to do… was wait.

***

Lindiweh pushed open the door to her apartment, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed onto the couch with an exhausted sigh.

She had held it together during the interview, but now that she was home, the weight of it all hit her. The nerves, the pressure, and—most of all—him.

Mr. Desmond.

She groaned and covered her face with a pillow.

Annie, who had been waiting impatiently, rushed over. "You’re back! How did it go? Spill!"

Lindiweh pulled the pillow away and exhaled. "It was… intense."

Annie sat next to her, eyes wide. "Intense good or intense bad?"

Lindiweh sat up. "The interview went well—I think. I answered all their questions confidently, and they seemed impressed."

Annie clapped her hands. "That’s my girl! I knew you’d kill it!"

Lindiweh hesitated. "But…"

Annie frowned. "But what?"

Lindiweh leaned back and ran a hand through her hair. "Remember the guy I bumped into on my way to my presentation? The one who keeps showing up everywhere?"

Annie’s eyes lit up with interest. "The mysterious hottie? Yeah, what about him?"

Lindiweh sighed. "Turns out he’s not just some random guy. He walked into the interview room like he owned the place. And guess what?"

Annie leaned in. "What?"

Lindiweh looked at her, dead serious. "He’s the son of the CEO."

Annie’s mouth dropped open. "What?! Are you serious?!"

Lindiweh nodded. "Dead serious."

Annie squealed, grabbing Lindiweh’s hands. "Girl, this is some drama! A CEO’s son has been circling you? Oh, this is good."

Lindiweh groaned. "No, this is bad. He called me ‘Feisty’ in front of everyone. I had to act like I didn’t know him!"

Annie gasped. "Wait. He called you that in front of the panel?"

Lindiweh nodded.

Annie fell back, laughing. "Ohhh, he’s definitely interested in you. Rich guys don’t just play around like that."

Lindiweh rolled her eyes. "This isn’t a romance movie, Annie. I need this job. I can’t have some rich guy distracting me."

Annie smirked. "And yet… you’re very distracted right now."

Lindiweh groaned again and covered her face. "I just want to know if I got the job."

Annie grinned. "Trust me, babe, you definitely left an impression."

Lindiweh wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Annie was still grinning like she had just uncovered the juiciest gossip of the year.

Lindiweh threw a cushion at her. "Stop looking at me like that."

Annie caught it effortlessly. "Like what?"

"Like I’m some kind of romantic lead in a drama series," Lindiweh muttered, crossing her arms.

Annie laughed. "You kinda are, though. First, a mysterious guy appears in your life out of nowhere. Then he calls you ‘Feisty’ and shows up at your interview as the CEO’s son? Girl, this is a plot!"

Lindiweh shook her head. "The only plot I care about is getting this job."

Annie stretched out on the couch, still smirking. "Fine, fine. But let’s be honest—did you feel something when he walked in?"

Lindiweh hesitated for half a second before shaking her head. "Nope."

Annie gasped. "Liar!"

Lindiweh rolled her eyes. "I mean it, Annie. Sure, he’s… attractive and confident, but that doesn’t matter. He’s the CEO’s son. He’s on a completely different level."

Annie raised an eyebrow. "And that bothers you?"

Lindiweh sighed. "No, what bothers me is that people like him don’t have to struggle like the rest of us. He probably got his position handed to him."

Annie’s smirk faded a little. "Maybe. Or maybe he’s got his own struggles."

Lindiweh didn’t respond. Instead, she got up and stretched. "I need to clear my head. I’ll make some tea."

Annie watched her carefully. "You’re overthinking, Lin. Just focus on your goals. If you get the job, great. If Mister Dark Eyes keeps showing up, well… that’s just a bonus."

Lindiweh ignored her as she walked into the kitchen.

Just as she was pouring hot water into her cup, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Unknown Number: You handled yourself well today. Impressive.

She froze.

A second later, another message came in.

Unknown Number: See you soon, Feisty.

Lindiweh’s grip tightened on the phone.

What the hell?

She rushed back into the living room, holding up her screen. "Annie, tell me I’m not losing my mind."

Annie took one look and shrieked. "OH. MY. GOD."

Lindiweh exhaled sharply, staring at the messages.

This was not over.

Not even close.

Lindiweh stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the keyboard.

Annie practically bounced beside her. "Are you gonna reply? You have to reply!"

Lindiweh hesitated, then typed:

Lindiweh: I don’t remember giving you my number. Who is this?

She hit send.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: You already know who I am.

Lindiweh’s jaw clenched. Of course.

Lindiweh: If this is some kind of game, I’m not interested.

She waited, half-expecting him to brush her off. Instead, his response came immediately.

Unknown Number: No game. Just coffee.

Lindiweh blinked.

Annie gasped. "NO WAY. He just asked you out?!"

Lindiweh read the message again.

Unknown Number: Meet me at Luxe Café tomorrow. 10 AM. Your treat.

Her eyebrows shot up. My treat?

She huffed and typed quickly.

Lindiweh: You’re literally the CEO’s son. You can afford your own coffee.

A pause. Then—

Unknown Number: Touché. Fine, my treat. Just don’t be late, Feisty.

Lindiweh exhaled, staring at the screen.

Annie grinned, shaking her shoulders. "You have to go!"

Lindiweh groaned. "It’s not a date, Annie."

Annie rolled her eyes. "Right. Just a casual, friendly coffee chat with the CEO’s very attractive son who mysteriously keeps showing up in your life."

Lindiweh sighed, tossing her phone onto the couch. "I should say no."

Annie raised an eyebrow. "But you won’t."

Lindiweh ran a hand through her hair. Annie wasn’t wrong.

Maybe she was just curious. Maybe she wanted answers.

Or maybe… she was already too deep in this to walk away.

To be continued...