The Alpha’s Hunt

Remi “Miss Collins, you’re up next.” I clutched the hem of my skirt more tightly than before. It still wasn’t my turn yet, but I couldn't help feeling uneasy just now. Maybe I should just make a fast turn right about now. Who was I kidding though? My sick brother lying face-up in my little bed-seater apartment is my reason for being here. The brunette girl whose name was just announced, picked up on her feet after excusing a mirror out of her purse. Peering contentedly into the oval piece of glass, she touched her face a little, precisely adding some more lipstick that had me wondering how much red she needed to get on there. As if this person could somehow read my thoughts, she rolled her head to the side and eyed me over with a snarky attitude; one that said ‘I’m getting this job so you better get lost or go home.’ She looked pretty upset but I don't pay any mind to her. I straightened out my shoulders and looked right ahead. My eyes fell on the middle-aged receptionist who’d been doing the name-calling all this time. “Is there a problem with your nerves, Miss Snowkell?” the woman behind the desk suddenly said to me and I'm torn about what to say, at first. “Oh, erm... My nerves, they are doing just fine, thanks.” From the corner of my right eye, I catch little miss snarky-tude disappear into the rather broad corridor. “You don't have to bother with the likes of her, though.” I am completely stunned by that woman’s remark. “What?” Okay, maybe I should sound a lot more composed than that. “What I meant to say was, why do you think she bothers me?” “Well, to start with, I am not blind.” “I didn't think you were,” I stated as an apology. “I just didn't expect you to be so —” “Involved?” offered the sinister old woman. I could have sworn she hasn't taken her eyes off her computer in the last two hours of my sitting here, but guess I was the delusional one. “You seem a very nice girl, Miss Snowkell —” “Remi,” I offered. “— I hope you do get the job. Apart from liking the fact I get to work with you, I know the money is just as important for your brother’s surgery.” I don't know what I ought to say to that. The woman was obviously being kind, but her mention of my brother’s surgery wasn't something I felt like including in our conversation just now. I turned to my left and noticed the only girl sitting close to me. She is reading something major from her iPad. I don't ask her what it is. I already know that more than half the girls who have come for today’s interview have certificates from Harvard or some other great school. “Miss Snowkell!” the receptionist called suddenly causing my heart to drop to the bottom of my shoes. “Oh, it's my turn?” I asked almost immediately as the former girl—miss Collins— rounded the corner quickly to cast one final glare at me. She did not seem like she had had it any nicer in there in spite of herself and her red lipstick. “You had better not keep the boss waiting, miss Snowkell,” the receptionist was kind enough to remind me again. I ignored little miss snarky who was pretty much out the door anyway, and hurried towards the reception desk myself. After the kind woman ran me over the direction on how to get to the conference room, I settled my lightweight briefcase underneath my arms and started for the broad corridor; the same one the last thirty-something candidates had walked in before me.