"VALENTINA PALERMO, Mrs. Belluci is ready to see you now." The secretary says, a fake smile plastered onto her face. She is dressed in a tight sleeveless top despite the brisk cold of the Seattle weather.
I stand up and take a deep breath, dusting off my black pencil skirt before grabbing my handbag.
The secretary hands me a sticky name tag labeled 'Palermo 18' and I quickly place it on my skirt, not wanting to ruin the nice silk top that I bought for this interview. I take a deep breath, a quick wave of nervousness coursing through me. I hadn't had a job in months, and this was my best shot at improving my resumeé.
A tall, elegant brunette walks out of the office, her top reading 'Lopez 17'. She eyes me warily. "Good luck with that puta." She says before storming out of the building.
Confused and slightly annoyed, I slowly open the door and enter the interview room. The walls are intricate wood pieces combined to create an atmosphere of seriousness; the floor is a brilliant blue hue, adorned with a white faux rug underneath Mrs. Belluci's desk. The room smells wonderful, an ode to the earthy and citrus fruits that are present during Christmas time.
Right behind her desk is a tall, floor to ceiling length window that boasts the beauty of Seattle. People of all ages bustle about below us, rushing to carry out their daily duties.
Mrs. Belluci sits at the very center of the room on a plush turquoise sofa, her toned legs crossed over one another. Her long blonde hair falls in perfect waves down her back and her expensive blue lace top fits her perfectly.
"Well, are you going to stand there all day?" She raises a perfect eyebrow and I quickly take a seat across from her.
"Good morning Mrs. Belluci. It's so nice to see you." I flash a smile and hold out my hand to shake hers but her nose crinkles in disgust.
"Call me Gianni," She swiftly evades my outstretched hands, clearing her throat as I settle in a chair. An awkward silence descends over us, my uneasiness evident in my posture. I shift in my seat and the leather squeaks. "What is your name and how old are you?"
"I am Valentina Palermo, and I am twenty-three years old." I try to smile again, failing effortlessly according to the disinterest on Gianni's face.
She nods and jots something down on her clipboard. "Please give me an overview of your experience in the childcare area and list names as well."
I dive into the extent of my field, mentioning my long term work assisting children with disabilities. I had been a caretaker for as long as I could remember. She nods vaguely, jotting randomly as I speak.
"Thank you for your time, Valentine." She smiles and it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"No problem." I stand up and make my way to the door but pause and spin around. I clear my throat and she looks up from the clipboard. "By the way Mrs. Belluci, my name is Valentina."
She stares at me deadpan. "And so? That's what I said, isn't it?"
"Ah-" I stopped. There's no point. With a small bow in her direction, I spin around cringing in embarrassment.
A bow?!
Who bows to their prospective boss? I always become painstakingly awkward when around people I am unfamiliar with.
My feet slap the floor as I thunder towards the door. Suddenly - smack- I collide into someone. I fall backward, my bag flying into the air as my elbow hits the ground in an effort to stop falling. A bolt of pain lances through my arms, destabilizing me.
Wincing in pain, I open my eyes to see an undisturbed man standing in front of me.
He bends down to reach for me, his hand brushing against my waist as he pulls me up. I stand up to my full height, a few inches shorter than his as I take a quick peek at him.
Dressed in an expensive dark blue suit, this man stands steadily, his broad shoulders encasing his blazer perfectly. With a quick smile at me, his chocolate brown eyes wink in curiosity.
Mortified, I bend down to pick up my things, in a hurry to leave before I cause further embarrassment. The man calls out in a deep baritone, "I'm so sorry ma'am. Are you all right?"
Ma'am?! Did I look eighty? Ma'am was a specific word designated for mothers who could bake and eighty-year-old grandmas.
Apparently, this stranger accounts me for both.
"Let her be, Roman," Gianni gripes in annoyance. She sashays to him, running her thin fingers over his shoulders as he leans in for a kiss.
With an unconcerned wave of the hand, she ushers me out.
I mutter a few incoherent words and stumble out of the room in a flushed mess.
Back in the reception room, I pick up my phone and dial Jake's number.
"How did it go?" Jake picks up on the first ring, a tone of unease in his voice.
He knows how hard it has been these past months to feed ourselves and pay bills.
A small tear finds its way into my eyes, slipping out as I answer, "Of course it went well Jake, I am a master when it comes to interviews."
I berate myself silently for lying to him. I just can't disappoint him again, despite already knowing that there is no way in hell Gianni would hire me.
I give Jake the directions to the building, making my way outside to wait for him. I take my sweater off, allowing the crisp cold air to touch my skin. It feels liberating, a breath of fresh air, as I crunch through the fallen bits of ice that accumulated through the night.
"Valentina!" Someone shouts.
I look towards the direction of the noise, a huge smile of relief blooming on my face. I run to the Toyota that Jake prides himself in, something he finally bought a few days ago.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I give Jake a kiss, reveling the sweet taste of his lips. He pulls away, grinning, "I guess the interview went very well, huh?"
With a strangled laugh, we head back home.
❉❉❉
Author's Note-
Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of Valentina! Trust me, there will me more mystique, heartbreak, and drama coming in the next chapters!
I don't know why but writing this chapter was so incredibly difficult. Please leave comments on how you think I did, and don't forget to vote and share!
What do you think will happen next?
Xoxo,
Aanu 💋
YOU ARE READING
Valentina
Roman d'amour"What do you think love is, Roman?" I ask him, listening to him as he speaks. He takes a deep breath, his unease evident in his face. His hand plays with the tablecloth mindlessly as he answers. "Love is an all consuming need to be with someone, whe...
