CHAPTER 2 - A little fight

864 Words
Chapter 2 - A Little Fight Annabelle POV “Who gave you the right to talk back to me?” he asked, his expression dark with fury. “I have every right to talk to you! What, are you a celebrity or the boss of this place?” I snapped. “You’re clearly drunk. Who do you even think you are?” I glanced around. A crowd of passersby had already gathered. I could see the people following the stranger—they looked absolutely frozen, shock written all over their faces. “You want to know who I am?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. “Yes, of course! Who are you?” “You really want to know?” “Nonsense,” I scoffed. “You’re nobody. Read my lips: YOU ARE NOBODY. Get that through your thick skull, you arrogant jerk!” I wanted to keep going, but the sudden realization of my interview hit me like a cold bucket of water. I came back to my senses. I didn't have time for this. To make my point, I purposely bumped into his shoulder as I pushed past him toward the entrance. How did I just do that? I didn't even know the man. For some reason, I’ve always found it easier to challenge men than women. I lose every fight with a girl, but put me up against a guy and I somehow find my victory. God, please help me. I hurried into the elevator and rode it up to the fifth floor. When the doors opened, I was met with a sea of people waiting in the hallway. I found an empty chair and sat down, checking my phone. I was number forty-five. I almost missed this life-changing opportunity because of that moron. If I ever see him again... I’ll give him a piece of my mind he won't forget. Since the interviews hadn't started yet, I pulled a small snack from my bag. Thanks to that stranger, I hadn’t even been able to enjoy my coffee. “Do you know the mysterious Mr. Sterling has arrived?” a girl sitting nearby whispered. She was wearing a sleeveless, skin-tight gown. If I hadn't known better, I’d think she was heading to a club, not a corporate office. “Wow, that’s fast,” another lady added. “I heard he’s gorgeous. That’s what the shareholders say, anyway. I hope it’s true.” “I heard he’s a literal demi-god.” “Since he’s just arriving, he’ll definitely need a personal assistant,” the first girl squealed. “I hope it’s me. Think of the office romance potential!” “How do you know he’s even single?” “If he weren't, the shareholders would have leaked it. Trust me, he’s available.” I rolled my eyes. How could they be so desperate to assist a man they’d never even seen? God, please just give me a decent position so I can take care of my mom. “If you want to be his assistant, you have to be an elite,” one of them said, looking pointedly at the others. “I graduated from Highlight University.”I gasped. Highlight University was a school for the 1%. If you didn't have a massive trust fund or a powerful last name, you didn't get through the front gates. I wondered why someone from that background was even here competing for a job instead of running their own empire. “Wow, that’s impressive,” I muttered before I could stop myself. “I’ve finished my Master’s and I’m starting my PhD soon,” another candidate added proudly. My stomach dropped. I only had my Bachelor’s degree. I needed this job to save up for my Master’s and to support my mother. She had been my rock ever since my father walked out on us; she’d sacrificed everything for me, and now it was my turn to provide. “What about you? What degree do you have?” I snapped out of my thoughts to find every pair of eyes in the row fixed on me. A girl in a floral mini-dress leaned forward, tapping my knee. “Sorry to disturb your daydreaming, but we were curious. Where did you go to school? Your outfit is so... moderate.” Moderate? I looked down at my crisp white shirt and professional knee-length skirt. Compared to the "abnormal" club-wear surrounding me, I thought I looked like a professional. The air felt thick. My throat went dry. “I... I went to... ahem...” Please, someone change the subject. How could I tell them I had a degree from a local, no-name college? They would make me a laughingstock. “Don’t be shy,” one of them encouraged, though her smile didn't reach her eyes. “Go on, we don’t bite.” “I have a Bachelor’s degree and—” The laughter started before I could even finish. I felt my face heat up. I wished the floor would just open up and swallow me whole. I hated being the center of attention, especially when it came with a side of disgrace.
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