CHAPTER 3:The interview
1064 Words
Sofia Navarro POV
I was nervous as hell.
I stood in front of my closet with my toothbrush still in my mouth because I was already running late and my brain had decided that this was the perfect moment to have a full fashion crisis.
I pulled out a dress first. Held it up.
Nah. Too soft. Too pretty. I needed to look like I belonged there.
Bonnie's voice was already in my head — you must look corporate Sofia. Her exact word. Corporate.
I swapped the dress for a blue palazzo pant and white shirt. Looked in the mirror.
...no.
Final attempt. Boot cut trousers in grey, black fitted shirt, grey bag, black stilettos. Six inches.
I looked in the mirror.
Okay.
The trousers hugged everything they were supposed to hug without screaming about it. Professional but make it Sofia Navarro. I did a small catwalk in front of the mirror because I deserved it.
"Yes," I told my reflection.
My reflection agreed.
Castellan Property Group looked like money.
A lot of money.
I stood at the entrance for exactly three seconds with my mouth slightly open before I caught myself and walked inside like I belonged there.
"The interview will begin in twenty minutes," a blonde woman announced, moving like she had somewhere more important to be.
I looked around.
There were dozens of applicants.
One by one they disappeared into the interview room and came back looking either relieved or completely defeated.
I sat there and waited and thought about my rent and tried very hard not to spiral.
"Ms. Navarro."
Everyone else had gone.
I was the last one.
"You're next," the receptionist said.
I stood up. Smoothed my trousers. Rolled my shoulders back.
Okay Sof. You got this.
“Breathe in, breathe out,” I chanted as I walked to the office.
There were two of them in the room.
A woman who looked at me like I had personally offended her entire bloodline the moment I walked through the door. Her eyes went straight to my outfit and stayed there like she was collecting evidence.
And a man with rolled-up sleeves and tired eyes that somehow still looked kind and fierce.
"Why are you dressed like that," the woman said. Not a question. A verdict.
I opened my mouth.
"You don't have to explain," the man said quietly. He glanced at the woman briefly — just once — and something in that look made her press her lips together and look away.
He looked back at me.
"Sit down Ms. Navarro."
His nameplate said Dante Castellan.
Probably the CEO or —
I sat.
"Ms. Navarro." He folded his hands on the desk. "What do you understand about the client liaison role?"
I sat up straight.
"As a client liaison I show clients properties, apartments, buildings. I communicate with them throughout the process to make sure they're comfortable. I'm the face of the company to every important client that walks through that door."
Confident. Clear. And a little bit professional.
I had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.
Bonnie had sat on my kitchen counter until midnight the night before making me repeat it back to her like a parrot until I stopped stumbling.
You're welcome, she had said, eating my cereal.
Dante looked at me for a long moment.
Like he was trying to look straight through me.
"Good," he said.
He asked more questions after that. Some I answered well. Some badly. Some so honestly they probably should have disqualified me immediately.
But Dante Castellan listened to every single one like my answers actually mattered.
At the end he looked at me one final time and wrote something down.
"We'll be in touch Ms. Navarro."
I walked out and stood in the elevator alone.
Exhaled for the first time in an hour.
I had no idea if I got it.
But I had shown up last and left standing.
I got home and sat on my bed and stared at my ceiling.
That was either great or a complete disaster.
I genuinely couldn't tell.
Bang.
"Hey bitch." Bonnie made her way into my room like she owned it.
"Hey," I said.
"How was the interview?"
"Hmm." I inspected my nails. "Smooth."
She stared at me.
I felt the stare.
"Okay I think I blew it," I said.
"WTF" She launched herself onto my bed. "SOF."
"What! You know I don't know anything about that shut,I tryy best though.
"I literally sat on your kitchen counter until midnight—"
"I know—"
"I know Bonnie—"
"For YOU—"
"Oh my God." She grabbed her bag. Stood up. Walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To find you a job as a waitress," she spat. "Or a stripper."
She left.
Just like that.
I stared at the empty doorway.
"...okay," I said to nobody.
Bonnie didn't call for three days.
I tried. Voicemail every time.
On the third day an email arrived. Castellan Property Group.
I stared at it.
Obviously. A professional apology for wasting my time. I had received enough of those this year to recognize the format.
I closed it.
I would read it later when I had the emotional energy for disappointment.
Later turned into evening.
My phone rang.
I didn’t even check the caller ID before picking up.
"Hi Ms. Navarro, this is Castellan Property Group. We'd like to inform you that you've been selected for the client liaison position—"
I sat up straight.
"—and we'd like to know if you're still interested."
"Yes," I whispered.
"Yes. Of course."
"Wonderful. We'll be expecting you Monday."
She hung up.
I sat there for exactly four seconds.
Then I screamed.
Then I called Bonnie.
It rang twice.
"I don't want to speak to you," she answered.
"I got the job."
““Girl— WHAT
"“I got the job, b***h!” I half-screamed.
"SOF—"
"You told me to become a stripper Bonnie."
"And instead you got a real job so clearly you needed the motivation.”I’m proud of you Sof”.She said in a soft voice
I laughed.
For the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel forced.
I was starting a new job on Monday.
Client liaison.
Maybe America was finally giving me a second chance.
- Writer
