A DEAL WITH THE BOSSY BILLIONAIRE

The Job Interview

Sia’s POV

I jolted awake to the blaring sound of my alarm—forty-five minutes late. “No!” I gasped, throwing off the covers and scrambling out of bed. This could not be happening. I had *one* shot at this interview, and I was already running behind.

Dressing quickly, I rushed out the door, only to be met with another catastrophe—no cabs. Not a single one in sight. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, pacing in front of my apartment. My eyes darted across the street where I spotted my neighbor's kid’s bicycle lying on the ground.

Without a second thought, I snatched it up and took off down the road, pedaling frantically. I could already feel the clock ticking in my head, mocking me. Halfway there, traffic along Westbridge was backed up for miles, and I realized with horror that there was no way I could make it on time if I followed the normal route.

I had to improvise.

Spotting a narrow alley that cut through a row of houses, I veered sharply, ditching the bike behind some bushes. I jumped over a fence, hoping it would save me time. Instead, I barely missed being attacked by a dog that lunged from the yard. My heart raced as I bolted for the other side, the sound of barking loud in my ears.

I hadn’t even caught my breath when the worst happened—a gunshot cracked through the air. I froze, nearly stumbling to the ground. Someone had seen me jump the fence and thought I was trespassing.

“Oh no, no, no,” I gasped, adrenaline pumping as I made a run for it, clutching my heels in my left hand. I didn’t stop until I was clear of the houses, panting as I reached the sidewalk outside Chandler Enterprises.

And then, because fate wasn’t quite done with me, a sleek black car sped through a puddle, drenching me in muddy water.

“Great,” I muttered, my dress now soaked and clinging to my skin.

The car screeched to a halt, and a woman stepped out, her eyes widening in horror. “Oh my God, I am *so* sorry!” she cried, rushing toward me. “I wasn’t paying attention, and—look, this is completely my fault.”

I stood there, blinking, trying to process how the universe could hate me this much. “It’s fine,” I managed, wiping some of the mud from my face.

“No, no, it’s not fine. Here, come with me,” she insisted, gently guiding me toward the car. “You can’t go to your interview like this.”

“How did you know I had an interview?” I asked, bewildered.

The woman smiled, her expression warm. “A guess. This building only means one thing—Chandler Enterprises. You need this job, right?”

I nodded, grateful for her kindness despite the ridiculousness of my situation.

“Wait here,” she said before speaking to her driver and disappearing into the car. Moments later, she reappeared, holding what had to be the most expensive dress I’d ever seen. “Here, take this. You can’t wear that anymore,” she said, handing me the clothes.

I gaped at her. “I—I can’t accept this.”

“You absolutely can,” she said, laughing lightly. “Please, it’s the least I can do. I’m Rachel, by the way.”

“Sia,” I replied, shaking her hand. There was something about her—calm, poised, the kind of person who carried herself like she could control any room. I felt oddly connected to her, like she was more than just some stranger.

“Sia, you’ll nail this interview,” she said with a smile. “I’ll make sure of it.”

I blushed at her confidence in me, quickly changing into the new outfit. Rachel's presence made me feel more at ease, and the dress she gave me felt like a good luck charm. As we exchanged pleasantries, her assistant whispered something to her, and with a wink, she wished me luck and headed inside.

When I finally stepped into the interview room, I was still catching my breath from all the chaos. Chandler Enterprises was even more imposing from the inside—polished glass, marble floors, and the hum of efficiency. My heels clicked loudly as I walked toward the large oak table, where three people were seated: two middle-aged men and one very familiar face.

Rowan Chandler.

He sat at the head of the table, exuding authority with a cold expression that made my stomach turn. My pulse quickened—wasn’t this the same man from the plane? The one I’d slapped? Twice?

“Miss Stanton,” Rowan’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air. “You’re late.”

“I—” My throat dried up, the excuse I had ready evaporating under his icy glare.

“You must think very highly of yourself,” he continued, folding his hands together. “Arriving late, interrupting my schedule. Is this the level of professionalism you plan to bring here?” His voice was condescending, and his words felt like a slap to my face.

“I’m really sorry,” I stammered, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. “There were unforeseen—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” Rowan interrupted, his tone cold and dismissive. “Let’s get on with this farce.”

The two other men exchanged glances, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the room. One of them cleared his throat and asked a standard question, something about my experience. But my mind was still stuck on Rowan’s contemptuous look, as if he wanted me gone before I even had a chance to prove myself.

I answered the questions as best I could, but Rowan’s piercing gaze unnerved me. He cut me off mid-answer more than once, and every time I tried to explain my qualifications, he found a way to make me feel inadequate.

“So, you think you’re qualified to be my assistant?” Rowan asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“I—I believe so, yes,” I replied, forcing myself to maintain eye contact.

He scoffed. “You believe so. But from where I’m sitting, it looks like you can’t even handle showing up on time. What makes you think you can handle the demands of this position?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. “I understand your concerns, but I assure you, I’m dedicated, and I won’t let something like this happen again.”

He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “You’re not what we’re looking for, Miss Stanton. I suggest you find a place more suited to your... talents.”

My heart sank. I wanted to argue, to stand up for myself, but I knew it was over. He’d made his decision before I even walked in.

“Thank you for your time,” I said quietly, standing to leave. My legs felt heavy, and I barely made it out the door before tears of frustration welled up in my eyes.

As I stepped out of the conference room, Rachel’s assistant appeared by my side. “Miss Stanton, can you come with me?”

I blinked, confused but followed him. He led me to a sleek office, where Rachel sat behind a large desk, smiling warmly as I entered.

“Rachel?” I asked, completely bewildered.

“I just heard,” she said, standing up. “Rowan rejected your application.”

I felt a lump in my throat. “Yes, I—”

“Good thing I have a say around here,” Rachel said, winking. “You’re hired. As my assistant. Welcome to Chandler Enterprises.”

My jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

Rachel laughed lightly, walking around the desk. “I saw something in you, Sia. You’re smart, you’re resilient, and most importantly, you don’t give up. You’ll be perfect.”

I couldn’t speak, overwhelmed with relief and disbelief. But in the back of my mind, I knew this was far from over. Rowan Chandler wasn’t going to take this lightly.

And I had no idea what storm I had just stepped into.