The Betrayed Billionaire

Interview

"Every sunrise is an invitation for us to arise and brighten someone's day."

I couldn't remember where I read that, but I expect things to be good when I wake up. If they were not, then I'd try to set about trying to make them as good as I could cause I know I'd have to live that day anyway. So why not try to make the most of it if you could? 

Some days turn out better than others, but you always have to keep trying.

Sitting beside my window while the sun embraced me in its warmth, keeping me alive and enthusiastic for the whole day. I loved the feeling of the fresh air on my face and the wind blowing through my hair.

"Eve. Eve. Evelyn!"

My chain of thoughts broke when Kat's voice pierced through my ears as she lightly patted my arm. Coming out of the trance, and taking in the surroundings, I realized we had already reached the Walker Industries. Panic whirled inside my mind as I looked at my face in the mirror.

Completely lost in my thoughts, I hadn't even closed the window, and now I ended up having the bird's nest on my head. The tangled mess look didn't sit well with my strawberry blonde locks.

Oh, what a joy, running my fingers through the knots in my hair, like trying to untangle spaghetti with chopsticks!

"Kat, I-I can't appear in the interview looking like this," I exclaimed nervously, while subconsciously my hands were searching for the hairbrush inside my sling-bag, and I failed miserably. "I don't think I should go inside."

Kat slammed her forehead into the steering, her messy blond bun loosened as she groaned, "Really, Eve? This is how you want to make your grand entrance into the corporate world? With a hairstyle that screams 'I just wrestled with a blender and lost'? "

"What-"

"Shush... don't worry, I'm sure they'll appreciate the avant-garde look," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she flicked away my flustered attempts to fix my hair, replacing with her expert fingers.

I winced at her words, feeling the knots in my stomach grow tighter alongside the knots in my hair.

"But... it's my first job interview. I can't afford to mess this up," I protested, desperation seeping into my tone.

She rolled her silver eyes, her caffeine-deprived wit fully awakened.

"Ah, yes, because we all know that your future employers will be far more interested in your hair styling skills than your qualifications and experience," she quipped.

I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that arguing with her before she had her morning coffee was like trying to reason with a caffeinated hurricane.

"Fine, let's just go. But if I don't get this job, I'm blaming you and your sarcastic hairdressing skills," I grumbled, finally managing to untangle the knots in my hair.

"OH! For the love of caffeine, stop panicking, woman. You've got this, Eve, trust me. You're not the first person to have a bad hair day before an interview. Besides, messy hair is in fashion these days. You'll rock that 'effortlessly chic' look."

I sighed, trying to calm my nerves. 

"I hope the interviewers are more focused on my qualifications than my hair."

"They will be," she assured me. "And if not, you'll distract them with your dazzling personality."

I couldn't help but smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. 

"Thanks, Kat. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She winked at me. "Probably have a few more bird's nests on your head. But seriously, you've got this. Just be yourself, and they'll love you."

Pulling up to the interview location, she turned to me with a serious expression. "Now, take a deep breath, fix that posture, and remember, you're not just interviewing for a job; you're showcasing the amazing person you are."

"Easy for you to say," I mumbled, but I followed her advice, taking a deep breath and straightening up.

She grinned. "That's the spirit! Now go in there and show them why they need you at Walker Industries. And, of course, fix that frown of yours its giving me a headache already."

I chuckled, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Kat. You're a lifesaver."

"Just doing my job, helping damsels in distress," she said with a wink. "Now go ace that interview, and remember, messy hair or not, you're fantastic."

I stepped out of the car, feeling a newfound confidence. As I walked towards the entrance of Walker Industries, I couldn't help but be thankful for friends like Kat, who knew exactly how to turn a potential disaster into a moment of strength.

Walking in heels was working like an extra salt in my already miserable life, I entered inside. It has been years since I last wore heels and I've been out of practice since then.

I asked the receptionist about the interview, and she guided me to the elevator, another fear to go through. Pushing the button to the thirtieth floor, I was hoping for someone to enter, and as if God himself was on my side today, a girl entered the elevator and from the looks of it, she was here for the interview too.

But, unlike me, she looked really intelligent, elegant, and sharp in her black well-tailored business suit and her brunette locks pulled up in a small bun, while I wore Kat's green business suit which was really tight around my chest and behind, making it look like I intentionally did it.

I froze, when the door of the elevator slid away from one another, almost fifteen women and ten men were gathered here for the interview, half of them looked like they had graduated from a well-known institution.

Sitting beside the same brunette girl, I peeked inside her CV that she had been checking for the last ten minutes. My nervousness heightened as I saw several certificates attached to her file, and I lowered my gaze.

Well, guess who was getting the job?

One by one, a woman in her late thirties called each candidate by their name, and each interview took hardly five to ten minutes and not most of the candidates came out with a smile but a frown.

"Evelyn Williams!" 

Lost in my thoughts, I heard when the announcing lady called my name. Picking up my file, and taking in a deep breath, I stood up and trudged toward the room.

The doorman opened the door for me, and I walked inside before saying a small thank you, trying my best to keep my face straight. The chair of the C.E.O. was showing its back, looking around and contemplating what to do before sitting on the chair. So, I stood beside it waiting for the approval.

"Please, be seated." 

A masculine voice said. The voice was vaguely familiar and not to mention- very deep, hot, and husky.

I was still biting my bottom lip when the chair rotated, revealing the C.E.O. to me and I was beyond shocked.

No way!

He hadn't seen me yet, and when he finally looked at me, both of us froze for a moment.

I couldn't believe my eyes for a minute. 

He was there, sitting in front of me, as my interviewer, after five freaking years. I spent years hiding from him and yet destiny has brought us in front of each other again.

Xavier Blake Knight!

He definitely changed a lot, but I still remember the most alluring and innocent forest green eyes, which were fuming with anger, and the way his jaw clenched told me that he remembered me too. Worse, he remembered every ounce of pain I've given him and everything I did to him.

He remembered how I betrayed him, how I left him for someone who wasn't worth it... but he was. And he is supposed to be my interviewer when I'm in dire need of it.

Why?! 

Just WHY!

But I wouldn't lose hope, not today, not ever, because sometimes against all odds, against all logic, we should still hope.

Right?