CHAPTER 2: ARROGANT JERK
1553 Words
CHAPTER 2: JERK
(Ayla’s POV)
My consciousness returned slowly, like I was swimming up through thick, dark water toward the light.
The first thing I noticed was the sharp sterile smell.
Hospital.
I forced my eyelids open, wincing against the harsh fluorescent light above.
Everything was blurry at first, but then it cleared, and I found myself staring into the most arresting pair of eyes I’d ever seen.
Deep amber, flecked with gold. They shimmered like sunlight caught in warm honey.
They belonged to a man sitting just beside my bed.
He looked… unreal. Like he’d stepped right out of a Renaissance painting.
“Hey,” he said, his voice deep and rich, with a faint accent I couldn’t place. “You’re awake.”
I blinked, disoriented. “Who… who are you?”
He tilted his head. “You don’t remember?”
I shook my head slightly and instantly regretted it as a dull ache pulsed at my temples.
Then like a jolt of lightning, the memories came rushing back.
The presentation. Hillcrest. The accident.
My eyes darted to the clock behind him.
4:30 PM.
No. No, no, no!
I tried to sit up, the sharp, searing pain in my ankle made me cry out, and I collapsed back onto the pillows.
“Careful,” he said, brow furrowed. “You sprained your ankle. Maybe cracked a rib. You need to rest.”
“You don’t understand!” I snapped. “I had somewhere important to be!”
Tears of frustration stung my eyes. This job was supposed to be my salvation, the answer to all my problems.
And now it was gone.
“Please calm down. You need to—”
“I had an interview,” I cut him off, my voice shaking. “The only chance I had to join the Hillcrest archaeology team. And now I’ve missed it. Because some i***t doesn’t know how to drive!”
“Excuse me?” His eyebrows shot up. “I wasn’t the one darting into traffic like a headless chicken.”
I glared at him. “So it’s my fault now?”
“I’m just saying, maybe if you weren’t chattering on your phone while stepping into traffic—”
“Chattering?” I repeated, heat rising to my cheeks. “I was sharing life-changing news with my best friend! Not that it’s any of your business.”
“You’re lucky my driver was going slow.” He shrugged.
I gasped. “You're such an arrogant jerk.”
His jaw clenched. “I brought you here. Stayed in that uncomfortable chair for hours just to make sure you're alright? And this is the thanks I get?”
“How noble,” I shot back sarcastically, swinging my legs over the bed. “Should I throw you a parade?”
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded, standing up as I limped toward the door.
“To fix what you ruined,” I said, grabbing my coat.
But as I reached for the handle, his hand shot out and landed over mine.
The moment our skin touched, something happened.
There was an electric pulse that ran through my body .
It was like touching lightning but instead of pain, a wild, powerful jolt of recognition surged through me.
We both froze.
His eyes locked with mine, wide and stunned.
Then I jerked my hand back, breathless. My heart pounded against my ribs like a drum.
I turned, flung the door open, and limped into the hallway ignoring the nurse’s protests.
I hailed a cab and rode down to Hillcrest hoping that some miracle would happen.
By the time I stumbled into the building it was nearly 5 o’clock.
The receptionist from earlier was gone replaced by a security guard who eyed me with concen.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Margaret Hart,” I said, trying to smooth down my hair. “I know I’m late, but—”
“Sorry, miss. It’s past working hours.”
My heart sank. “Please, you don’t understand. I had an interview today. I got the job. But I was in an accident—”
“You’ll have to come back tomorrow ma'am.”
I was about to beg when a familiar voice echoed behind me.
“Miss Marco?”
I turned. Mrs. Hart was just stepping around the corner, ready to leave.
“Mrs. Hart!” I rushed toward her, still limping. “I’m so sorry I didn’t show up. I was in an accident and—”
She took one look at me the hospital bracelet still on my wrist, my limping, disheveled state and her expression softened.
“Oh, dear..Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” I lied. “But please, tell me I haven’t completely ruined my chances. I know I missed the interview, but—”
Margaret’s face fell. “Oh, Ayla. I’m so sorry. We had to make other arrangements. When we couldn’t reach you, we assumed you’d changed your mind. The position’s been taken.”
Her words hit like a blow. “No, please. You don’t understand. I need this job. My father is sick, and without the salary—”
“I truly am sorry,” she said gently. “I wish there was something I could do.”
I fought back tears. This was all my fault. If I’d just been more careful...
“Miss Marco?” a voice called from behind.
I turned. One of the men from the earlier interview stepped forward, eyes widening as he saw me.
“We’ve been trying to reach you—Oh my God, what happened to you?”
“I was in a minor accident, but I’m okay now. Please. I really need this job. I’ll do anything.”
He hesitated, then smiled. “The antique you explained earlier belongs to Mr. Ethan Drayes. He’d love to meet you in person.”
He reached into his suit and handed me an elegant invitation.
“We’re hosting a special exhibition tonight as part of the gala. Some rare pieces will be showcased. If you can make it to the gala and impress Mr. Drayes, you might still have a shot.”
I took the invitation with trembling hands.
“Yes—of course! I’ll definitely be there. Thank you so much!” I squealed.
Margaret smiled. “Today is your lucky day, Miss Marco.” She looked me over critically. “Though... you might want to freshen up.”
I glanced down, my clothes were a mess, and my hair tangled.
“Thank you for this chance,” I whispered, clutching the invitation like a lifeline.
“I’ll see you at the gala,” He said before driving off.
---
I burst through the door of my tiny apartment to find Hailey pacing, phone to her ear.
“—been calling her for hours, Mom. I’m about to report—” She turned and froze. “Oh my God, Ayla! What happened?!”
I collapsed onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline was gone, leaving me hollow and shaking.
“I got hit by a car,” I said simply.
“You WHAT?” Hailey dropped the phone and rushed over. “Are you okay?! Why didn’t you call me?!”
“I’m fine. Sprained ankle. Mild concussion.” I held up the invitation. “But I might still have a chance at the Hillcrest job.”
Hailey sat beside me, stunned. “Start from the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”
So I did.
When I finished, she blinked. “Let me get this straight—you got a job offer, missed the meeting because of an accident, and now have less than two hours to get ready for a gala?”
I winced. “Basically.”
“What are we waiting for?! We have a gala to prepare!” she squealed.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I protested. “I’m a mess.”
“Lucky for you, your best friend is a fashion student with a closet full of magic.”
She grabbed my arm. “Come on, Cinderella. Time to get ready for the ball.”
The next thirty minutes flew by.
Hailey worked miracles.
She applied concealer over the bruises and gave me an elegant updo.
She then selected a midnight-blue gown that brought out my eyes.
It fit perfectly, hiding my bandaged ankle and the arms were elegant but not overexposing.
“I can’t wear this. It probably costs more than my rent.”
“It’s a loan,” Hailey said, applying my lipstick. “And you can’t put a price on your dreams.”
I turned to her, teary-eyed. “What if I can’t do this? What if I mess it up?”
“Hey.” She gripped my shoulders. “You’re the most talented antiquities expert I know. You’ve got heart, Ayla. If he doesn’t see it, then he’s blind.”
I nodded. “You’re right. I can do this.”
“Damn right you can.”
As I stepped into the cab, watching the golden city blur around me, one thought refused to leave my mind:
Those deep amber eyes.
Who was that man?
And why does he feel so damn familiar?
- Writer
