Loving The Flame

Chapter Five

Although I typically keep it hidden, my emotions frequently influence my choices. I have mastered the art of concealing my true emotions behind a cheerful facade and a raised brow, all while expressing my deepest thoughts. My mother, Charlotte, is renowned for her stoic expression; she never reveals her vulnerabilities to anyone, and I can confidently say that growing up under her guidance has shaped my own demeanour.

She has a strong aversion to my stable clinginess to that character, believing it hampers my social skills and makes it difficult for me to make friends. And I adore it because it aids me in developing my character in all aspects. That has become the reason why I stand out in this industry. The character I'm portraying has a distinct facial shape that adds a unique touch to my photographs and performances on stage.

So why am I obsessing over the tiniest details now? Well, I found myself reconsidering everything that unfolded after Liam's betrayal and the series of events that seemed to conveniently place me in his father's palm.

I was behaving rather strangely—I can acknowledge that—but my words to him would jeopardise my chances of securing the job. Could it? I can't help but ponder incessantly about the recent events, particularly the moments we crossed paths.

Reflecting on the situations in our initial meeting, I regretfully began on a discourteous note, venting my frustration at an unaware individual who did not deserve it. To make matters worse, he turned out to be the potential employer I aspire to work for. On my second attempt, I made a rather unfortunate impression during an interview, despite the unexpected opportunity that had come my way. Instead of making a desperate plea, I poured my heart out, subtly implying his selfishness. Then there was last night, another chance that had been carefully planned to place me right in his palm; my behaviour was quite erratic. I was feeling overwhelmed for several reasons, one of which was being intoxicated, and the other was having an uncomfortable encounter with Liam's father.

And now here I am, once again caught up in a peculiar circumstance, yet one that reveals his compassionate nature. His opulent mansion was where I woke up, with attentive staff all around. They served me a delicious breakfast in bed, presented his note on a gleaming silver plate, instructed me to make my way to Anderson's Empire, and hung a stunning new dress on a hanger for me. Despite my expectations of taking an Uber, I was pleasantly surprised to find that my transportation had been arranged with a chauffeur named Antonio. Last night's events left me with a mix of conflicting emotions—a sense of significance and yet a tinge of embarrassment.

Now I'm feeling overwhelmed. As soon as I stepped foot inside the Anderson building, it became clear that there was a connection to the work. I had already encountered Olivia and Evelyn prior to my arrival, and Isabel joined us shortly after I got there. Despite the amicable exchanges, there is an undeniable undercurrent of tension in the atmosphere. It's clear that we all aspire to be the leaders of this joint company, but the competitive nature of the situation is making it hard to unwind.

I appear quite striking in a sleek black dress that elegantly highlights my legs and open back. Completing the ensemble is a pair of red bottom d'orsay heels, while my hair is neatly styled in a bun, allowing my neck to be prominently displayed.

Make sure to arrive at Anderson's Empire by 10:30. Sharp this time around. I grin as I reminisce about his message, because I am aware that sharp refers to my attire.

“You look good, by the way." Olivia captures my attention, and a smile spreads across my face. She's been chattering nonstop since we got here, and the only thing I caught was this snippet as she leaned in my direction.

“I feel like I’m shrinking every day ever since this competition,” I murmured to her. She gently reached out for my hand, and we intertwined our fingers, silently assuring each other of our unwavering support. "You look incredible too," I say, offering a compliment in the hopes of redirecting the conversation away from her playful banter. She looks stunning in her all-white baby doll dress, which beautifully complements her fair complexion.

“Shut up,” she whispers in a playful tone, and I can't help but roll my eyes with a smile at her silly antics.

“Do you know what’s going on today? I thought we were supposed to know the face after a week." Isabel's cheerful demeanour is evident as she speaks, her vibrant red lipstick accentuating her bright smile and pearly white teeth. She confidently exhibits her stunning figure in a blue bodycon dress, fully aware of its undeniable allure.

"We have no clue," Olivia responds, a sentiment I agree with as I shake my head.

“Trust me, there’s no knowing who he would choose,” Evelyn remarks. Her mind appears preoccupied and unsettled. “The questions he asked were too..." She squinted, a look of confusion crossing her face.

"Unusual?" I attempt to assist her with words, and she glances towards me. Her captivating blue eyes give her a mesmerizingly big gaze.

“No, too personal, as if he actually digs deeper than needed,” she says as she leans closer to us, and I look at Olivia, who is looking at me with a smile. I guess there wasn't anything special about my interview after all.

"We had a similar thought," Olivia interjects, assuming control of the discussion. "He even questioned my motives for assisting her that day, despite the fact that we were in a competition." She dismissively rolls her eyes, as if finding his statement absurd. Meanwhile, I furrow my brow, studying her with confusion, as this is the first I'm hearing of it. "What?" she whispers, shaking her head at my response. "I didn't want to say that to you," she said nonchalantly, shrugging.

"He asked about my mother," Isabela murmurs, delicately brushing her fingertips against her hair. “She was a talented musician who didn't receive the recognition she deserved,” she sighs. “He was talking about her as if he knew her performing,” she says, shaking her head.

"I felt unwelcome," I say.

"But she did mention that he was self-centred," Olivia giggles whisperingly.

"And you're still here," Evelyn remarks, reclining in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest. “That's why it's impossible to determine his final choice," she says with clenched teeth. She is wearing a stylish black leather mini dress paired with thigh-high boots and a white shirt that undoubtedly has a designer touch. It's evident that she has a strong drive to succeed and doesn't appear to be someone who easily accepts defeat.

We find ourselves comfortably seated on the cosy single-seat sofas, arranged neatly around a petite coffee table. In the corner of the waiting room, a blonde woman sits at her desk, completely immersed in her work. The desk, a round black one, catches the eye as it is positioned near a door to her left. Except for the reception desk and the lush greenery adorning every corner, this room exudes an immaculate white aesthetic. Even the slightest blemish could be perceived as a significant issue in this pristine environment.

Out of nowhere, her gaze shifts towards us, causing me to quickly avert my eyes as I was engrossed in something else while staring at her. She strolls around her desk and comes towards us with a wide grin. "Hello again, ladies," she greets us all with a warm smile. “Unfortunately, Mr. Anderson won’t be able to join us today. However, Mrs. Bernard will be available to meet you in his office," she informs, gesturing towards the door on the left side of her desk.

"Are we all going in together?" Isabela asks, her voice filled with surprise, as we all rise to make our grand entrance into the office.

“Yes. Mrs. Bernard will explain everything to you,” she adds as she leads the way to the door, and we follow her extended walk. She gets the door, and we enter. I am the last to enter, and as the door shuts behind me, I glance back and acknowledge the assistant who guided us in with a friendly expression.

The office presents a striking contrast to the waiting room. The atmosphere is fresh and pure, carrying a subtle fragrance from the surrounding flora. There's a certain scent that seems to permeate the office, giving it a unique freshness. It seems as though we've stepped into an entirely different realm, with an atmosphere reminiscent of a lush jungle. Lush greenery drapes every nook and cranny, while vibrant foliage adds a touch of nature to the tables and window sills. The grand window behind the enormous desk offers a glimpse of lush greenery on the balcony. And the dark wood furniture added an air of mystery and adventure to the already fantastical atmosphere.

Tiff waited behind a big wooden desk, dressed in a crisp white blouse and a black pencil skirt, her blonde hair neatly styled. Her smile is warm and welcoming. There are four chairs lined up facing the desk, and in front of them are four small coffee tables. As she points to the chair, we all walk around and take a seat facing the desk. The chairs are sturdy and well-cushioned, providing a comfortable place to sit, and the coffee table seems smooth and polished. The blue envelopes in her arm were like rare jewels, precious and mysterious, and Tiff's touch on them seemed gentle and careful. After a while, Tiff's heels click softly against the floor as she walks around the desk, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Welcome, ladies; it's wonderful to see you all once again," she says, and we all wear smiles tinged with nervousness. "Here in my hand, I have a document for each of you," she says, shaking her head to brush away the strands of her bob hair. Her voice exudes a sense of tranquilly and tenderness as she enthusiastically expresses her excitement and eagerness. “Mr. Anderson has left some specific requirements for you to review,” she continues to explain, and I can't help but feel a sense of guilt as I try to understand what's happening. It would be wise to carefully review the document before signing it. If there are any terms or conditions that you find disagreeable, you have the option to decline and move on.

“It’s what’s in the contract, or no way?” Evelyn asks in surprise, her voice tinted with a slight disappointment, but her face can't hide it.

“Indeed,” she answers bluntly but with a smile. "In each of the envelopes, there are smaller envelopes that you will have to open to find out what your part in this company will be." She smiles as she continues and starts walking to each of us, placing the A4 envelopes on the coffee tables before us. “Good luck,” she says, walking back and looking at us, waiting for us to get to it.

We eagerly opened the tightly sealed envelope and removed the contract paper along with a smaller black envelope because we couldn't afford to wait any longer. The selection of their envelope demonstrates their keen attention to even the most minute details, indicating a clear sense of anticipation.

As I anticipated, the contract clearly states that we are prohibited from working with other companies or brands, which I find quite amusing since it's written in bold. It seems like a direct message meant for me. We must adhere to a strict schedule and exercise caution when selecting our public engagements, among other logistical considerations. The most significant aspect is the potential income we could generate upon signing this, which is truly remarkable.

"Are you serious?" Evelyn exclaimed once again. "I am able to work here due to my experience with various brands; it's not something I can easily give up." She shakes her head, and I glance back at Tiff, who is smiling at her nonchalant gesture. “Go to hell." She rises, strides away, and refrains, casting a glance back at all of us. I believe she expects us to do the same. "Losers!" she scoffs before striding out of the office.

"Anyone else?" Tiff inquires, and the three of us start to sign the contract in front of us. Once she notices that we all signed the contract, she clasps her hand and nodsapprovingly. "Alright, now one of those smaller envelopes will hold a special surprise—a golden card that will unveil the face, along with another contract outlining your responsibilities." She looks at us, and we all hesitate. "Keep going," she urges us, and we dive right in.

We exchange glances filled with anticipation, silently wishing each other well, before we eagerly tear open our envelopes. Out of nowhere, a golden card tumbles out of an envelope and gracefully lands on a coffee table, leaving us all stunned and speechless.