Anything For You

|The Hiring Drama|

Hello guys!! I am really excited to write this book as this one is very close to my heart.😌

I hope you all will love it and appreciate the efforts that I have put in.❤️

Your support matters to me, so please do share the book with others if you find the story interesting.🌹

Let's get started!!

▪️▪️▪️

She sat on the edge of the office bench, her posture straight and poised. Dressed in beige pants and a crisp white shirt, neatly tucked in, she exuded a sense of understated elegance. Her hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail, framing her face like a polished portrait.

Her eyes, a deep shade of brown, were windows to a soul filled with determination and nervousness. Her nose, delicate and perfectly sculpted, complemented her features, and her lips, pressed together in a mix of anxiety and hope, had a natural rose hue. Her beauty was a quiet symphony, a blend of grace and refinement that could captivate anyone without effort.

In her lap, she held a file, her fingers tapping rhythmically on her knee like a metronome. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings with keen interest. The office was modern and chic, with sleek, minimalist furniture. The reception desk stood at one corner, a stylish fusion of glass and metal. Beside it, an elevator gleamed, its doors reflecting the room's soft lighting. Potted plants added a touch of greenery, breaking the monotony of the neutral tones. Abstract art pieces adorned the walls, lending a contemporary vibe to the space.

She was in the waiting room of 'Regal Weaves', one of the country's biggest fashion houses. The air was buzzing with anticipation and energy, filled with people around her age who had come from God knows where to interview for a coveted job opening. Conversations hummed in the background, mingling with the sound of tapping heels and rustling papers.

"Sabko isi job ke liye apply karna tha kya?" (Did everyone have to apply for this job?) she huffed, continuing to tap her fingers on her knee. Her eyes darted upwards as she whispered, "Please, aap mujhe ye job dila dijiye." (Please get me this job.)

Her face softened into a pleading expression, her brows knitted together, and her eyes shimmered with desperation and hope—a silent prayer, her usual way of talking to God.

"Attention, everyone," the receptionist's voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. The room fell silent, every head turning towards the source of the announcement.

"We want to inform you all that unfortunately, we won't be going ahead with this interview for any more employees," the receptionist said, her tone regretful but firm.

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the room as everyone rose from their seats. "But why?" a man demanded, his voice tinged with frustration.

The receptionist maintained her composure. "Our managers have already found a suitable candidate from the employees they interviewed earlier."

"But how can you all do this? How can you know who is the best candidate without interviewing everyone?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Mahnoor," the receptionist addressed her directly, "but that's what has been told to me by my seniors. I'm really sorry, but you'll have to abide by it."

Mahnoor's face scrunched in frustration. She clutched her file tightly, the edges crumpling under her grip. With a huff of indignation, she straightened up and stormed out of the office. Her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor as she made her way to the elevator. Inside, she jabbed at the button for the ground floor, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts.