Unmasked Desires

Chapter Three

Sitting in the waiting area, I slowly counted down the seconds to my eventual doom. My heart pounded aggressively like it wanted to force it’s way out my chest. The nervousness I felt was different, it was the kind that crawled into one’s bones rendering everything out of place. It’s message was clear, I didn’t belong there.

Twenty-five people all vying for the same position, and with everyone seemingly more qualified than I was, my chances of hitting gold was considerably low.

“Elena Turner?”

I froze, feeling the weight of every eyes in the area turning around to find who was being called. Slowly, I stood smoothing down my maxi skirt as best as I could before proceeding toward the woman who called me. The knot in my stomach grew uncontrollably as I walked past rows if sharp suits and elegant dresses.

The woman led me through a long corridor, the clacking of our heels echoing off the marble floor. I felt a sudden tension in my chest, my mind kept telling Mitch certainty that I was out of my league

We reached a door with the words HR boldly inscribed on it. She pushed it open revealing a very spacious office. After leading me in, she returned to her post. The H.R office was ... splendid. Soft natural light poured in from the large windows that overlooked the city skyline. There was a big glass desk at the centre of the room, a desktop computer and a few neatly stacked files rested atop it. In front of the files, was a glass name plaque Monica. E . Thompson Head of Human Resources It read. The Air conditioner was on and working, and a faint scent of lavender hung in the air. To one side, was a water dispenser and a minimalist book shelf, neatly organized with various books. To the other side, awards donned the wall-evidence of an hardworking employee.

Quietly seated behind the desk was a woman, who embodied authority. She was stunning in her perfectly tailored brown suit. Her hair was shaped into a tight bun just as Jessica does hers and its shining dark ebony colour matched her skin tone.

“Elena Turner, correct?” She asked, her voice smooth yet sharp.

“Yes” I said.

She gesticulated for me to sit in the opposite chair, an invite I gladly accepted.

Monica entered a couple of information on her desktop computer before looking at me unimpressed. She darted her eyes to her monitor and me back and forth before fully giving me her undivided attention.

“So Elena. I just went through your application and I can see that you’ve got a degree in Administrative management which indicates that you could handle your own but your work experience is a little blank.” Monica said, her fingers tapping lightly on the desk.

I swallowed hard. This was the part I dreaded. “I’ve worked as a part-time administrative assistant before.” I said carefully, “I’ve also worked full-time as a secretary to a relatively small marketing firm once mostly handling schedules e-mails, appointments and light project management.

Monica’s eyebrows rose slightly, her fingers stopped hitting the desk. She leaned in closer placing her arms on the desk. “Listen to me darling, experience wise what you got is nothing compared to the other applicants I’ve interviewed today. And this position is far more demanding that what you said.” She said bluntly “I’ve known the C.E.O for half my life, so I know exactly what he needs. He requires someone who can be available at all hours, someone who can manage his schedule thoroughly, coordinate with high-level clients, handle correspondence with our various branches, someone who’s ready to jump on a flight to any country at any random time. It’s not just a job, it’s a full-time commitment.”

It was a lot more demanding job than I thought it was and Monica’s emphasis showed just how much was needed but I wasn’t expecting it to be a walk in the park either

“When you say full-time, do I get to sleep?” I asked.

“I hope so.” She responded, a little taken aback by my question.

“I understand. Listen I’ve come a long way and if given the chance, I’m prepared to work as hard as I possibly can.”

Monica leaned back slightly into her swivel chair, her expression blank “Are you? Anyone that takes up this job is basically bidding bye to their personal lives. You could be called up even on weekends Elena. The boss has a very high expectation and demands and failure to meet them perfectly is immediate termination. If your dedication level isn’t above par, this job isn’t for you.”

Her words landed heavily, like the gavel of a judge striking a verdict. I could tell where she was headed-she wasn’t convinced I could hold my own and I don’t blame her. I’m a little skeptical as well. Dedicating my life to the job wasn’t going to be easy but this opportunity is far too great to pass out on. Richard Branson once said that if somebody offers you an amazing opportunity but you are not sure you can do it, say yes-then learn how to do it later. This is too good to not try.

“I understand the demands” I started “And I’m willing to meet them. I know I’m not the most experienced or qualified applicant, but my dedication to anything is unmatched and I’m a very fast learner and I’m determined to prove myself worthy.”

Monica stared at me for a long moment, her dark eyes piercing through my soul like she was looking beneath the surface.

“Determination is vital” She said finally, “But this position requires much more than that. It requires resilience, adaptability and functionality. We’ll be in touch if you make it to the next stage. That will be all.” She concluded, her expression blanket than it ever was.

“Suzan, bring the next applicant please.” She said through the intercom.

And like that, the interview came to an end. Monica’s tone was professional but her words hinted her disapproval at my lacking experience.

As I returned to the hallway, I replayed every word said in the interview, analyzing and second-guessing my responses in my head. I knew it, I was reaching too high. There was no way I’m getting a callback.

Walking out the building, I flagged down a cab. My legs felt heavy and my mind was filled with the familiar sense of yet again another failed endeavour. As I sank into the back seat, the cab pulled away from the curb and drove off. I stared out the window watching the city blur past. I’m gutted that my inexperience may have kissed goodbye to a major opportunity but I couldn’t sulk on it. After all, there’s always tomorrow.