The Promotion

Chapter Four

The next few days passed uneventfully. Somehow, Calum and I slipped back into talking as though the fighting had never happened. The cycle was exhausting and familiar—we argue, I storm out, someone apologises, we return to normal, and then it starts all over again.

I also made the decision to stop job hunting for Calum. My constant pressure felt like it was doing more harm than good. Instead, I clung to the hope that he would find something on his own—eventually. All I could do was wait.

Friday morning, I woke up alone. Calum was gone, and I hadn't even noticed him leaving. I had no idea where he'd gone.

I reached for my phone to check the time, but an email notification caught my eye. It was from work.

My heart skipped.

I shot upright, my thumbs fumbling as I unlocked my phone. The email was brief—telling me to check my portal. Instantly, my thoughts jumped to the job.

Without a second thought, I jumped out of bed and got ready. I rushed around the apartment, throwing clothes on, grabbing my bag, my nerves pushing my legs to move faster as I headed for the car.

I swerved into a parking space, slammed on the brakes, and hurried inside, making a beeline for my desk. My heart pounded hard in my chest, though I wasn't entirely sure why. I stared at my computer screen, hesitating.

Should I open it now... or wait for Sarah?

My thoughts bounced around my head like a ping-pong ball until a familiar, chirpy voice pulled me back.

"Louisa? How are you here before me?" Sarah asked, settling into her chair.

"I got an email telling me to check my portal," I said, my leg bouncing restlessly beneath the desk.

Her eyes widened. "No way. What does it say?"

"I haven't checked yet. I've just been staring at the screen."

"What are you waiting for? Check it—now."

I took a breath and clicked onto the portal. The loading screen felt painfully slow. Finally, the message appeared.

Dear Miss Watts...

I glanced at Sarah—she was watching me like her life depended on it. With a deep sigh, I opened the message fully, my eyes scanning the words. For a moment, I struggled to process what I was reading.

Sarah nudged me. "Well?"

"I..." My voice faltered. "I've been invited for an interview."

She squealed like an excited schoolgirl. "Yes! I knew it! When is it?"

"That's the thing," I said, rereading the email. "It's today. At twelve. I haven't had any time to prepare."

"Today?" Sarah gasped. "That's ridiculous. But you're going, right? Where is it?"

"Of course I'm going." I checked again. "It says the Undercroft. I've never even heard of it."

"The Undercroft?" She frowned. "Neither have I."

"I'll ask at reception." I checked the time again—ten minutes had already gone. "Let's just try and focus on work for now."

I pushed the thought aside, but everything about this felt strange—rushed, intense. Still, I knew I had to give it everything.

⸻

Fifteen minutes before my interview, I stood from my desk. My stomach twisted with nerves. Sarah wished me luck, waving as though I were heading into battle.