*Chapter 1:The Dream That Wasn't Real*
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She sat in the front row, heart pounding.
"And the award for the Youngest Richest Woman in Los Angeles goes to..." the man on stage said.
This was it. Her moment to prove everyone wrong.
But then someone else's name was called. A blonde girl in a red dress stood up screaming.
And then she woke up.
Gasping. Sweating. Her small, hot room smelling of old paint.
It was all a dream.
"AHH! 8:00 AM!" Miss Becky shouted.
She jumped from bed and ran into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, Tessa burst in.
"Tessa! Why didn't you wake me up!" Miss Becky snapped.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty. I've been shouting for 30 minutes. But you were busy becoming a billionaire in your dream," Tessa laughed.
"This is not funny! My interview is today! If I miss this, we can't pay rent!" Miss Becky said, hands shaking.
She put on her only good clothes - tight black skirt, white top, old sandals.
"How do I look?" she asked in the cracked mirror.
"You look beautiful. Like a girl who will get that job," Tessa smiled.
Miss Becky's eyes filled with tears. "What if I don't? I'm so tired of counting every naira. This is my only chance."
Tessa hugged her. "Then go and show them who Becky Johnson is."
She got to the company early. In the waiting room, three rich ladies waited.
The first lady came out laughing, lipstick smudged. The second giggling. The third winking at the man inside.
Miss Becky frowned. This was not normal.
"Becky Johnson!" the receptionist called.
A fat man sat behind the desk, looking at her from head to toe.
"So you are Becky Johnson?" he asked, licking his lips.
"Yes sir, I am here for the personal assistant job," she said politely.
He locked the door. Click.
"You are very beautiful. You will get this job... but only if you do something for me. Have one night with me in my hotel," he said.
Miss Becky went cold. "Sir please... I need this job, but please don't ask me that. I am not that kind of girl."
He tried to hold her waist.
"Don't be a saint. The three girls before you agreed," he said.
"Don't touch me!" she shouted.
He tried again.
GBAM!
Miss Becky slapped him hard across his face.
"How DARE you slap me, you broke girl!" he shouted.
"How dare YOU try to buy me because I am poor! I may be broke, but I am not for sale!" she shouted back.
"You will NEVER get a job in this city!" he yelled.
She saw hot coffee on his desk. She picked it up.
"You think you can use us because we need jobs?" she screamed.
SPLASH!
She poured the entire hot coffee on his white shirt.
"AHHH! You mad woman!" he screamed, jumping.
Miss Becky slammed the cup.
"Keep your stupid job," she said, head high, and walked out.
She lost the job. But she walked out like a queen.
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