At six a.m. I received a call back for an event planning interview at ten a.m. Even though it was a last-minute interview, and on a Sunday, I couldn’t help but feel excited and relieved. Over the past three months, I’d tirelessly applied to so many jobs I could barely remember the names of the companies I sent my resumes to. So far, I’ve received only four callbacks and worked on just two events.
The lady, who introduced herself as Caite, was apologetic about the early call. After providing the directions to the building, she hung up. She didn’t give the name of the person who’d be interviewing me, which I found weird, but I brushed it off; her brain might still be just as foggy as mine at this hour.
I crawled out of bed and began to get ready for the interview. After having a much-needed cup of coffee to calm my nerves and a hot shower, I chose a steel-gray tailored blouse with a slight shimmer, pairing it with sleek black pants. The silver necklace Dean gifted me for my twenty-first birthday adorned my neck, paired with matching earrings and a pair of black pumps. I pulled my hair into a low bun and styled a few loose curls at the front. After applying subtle makeup, I was geared up and ready to bag the interview. First impressions lasted, and God knows I needed to make this one count.
After giving myself one last satisfied look in the mirror, I grabbed the keys to my beat-up Honda Civic, my handbag and my portfolio before heading out the door at eight forty-five. It would take me at least an hour to get to the interview, but what I didn’t account for was an accident occurring on my route and the traffic that brought my car to a complete stop.
Thirty minutes later, my car still hadn’t moved an inch. I removed a candy bar from my handbag and nibbled on it. Something I had always done when I was a kid and anxious. Food always made everything seem better.
Yup, everything except those fifteen inches that refuse to remove themselves from your waistline.
Money had been tight since I accumulated Dean’s debts after he was admitted to rehab. I had missed the last three payments and needed every job I could get.
When the traffic finally started to move, I had eaten three candy bars, was thirty minutes away and the time was already nine forty-five.
“It’s not your fault, Delilah. Just explain there was an accident, and they’ll understand,” I murmured, trying to soothe myself.
Thirty-five minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot. I hated being late. I inhaled deeply, grabbed my belongings from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. I clicked the key fob to lock it as I walked toward the building, before slipping it into my handbag. There were a few cars scattered across the parking lot, including a black Porsche and a work van. The three-story building was painted indigo with white trimmings. Close to the entrance, workmen were dismantling scaffolding.
“Good morning,” I greeted politely as I approached the men. Not a single man returned the greeting. They just continued with their chatter among themselves.
It was fine, I told myself as the automatic door slid open and I stepped inside the air-conditioned building. Inside was a hallway leading to the washroom area, a flight of stairs and an elevator. I opted to use the stairs since I hated elevators.
As I climbed the stairs, I couldn’t help but think about how girls like me just faded into the background. Yeah, I was a five-foot-seven thickie, my breasts being my best asset, but I hated the pouch around my tummy. I tried a few diets but never stuck with any of them long enough to see results.
I had been chunky ever since I could remember, and high school? The worst period of my life. I wore my insecurities on my sleeve, and the kids used that to their advantage. With every fat joke, my self-esteem took a fatal blow.
But I wasn’t that teen anymore.
After graduation, I made a life-changing decision. There was no way I was going to allow what happened in high school to repeat itself. I put on a mask, hid my insecurities, wore a bright smile, had snarky comments ready when needed, and kept the bullies at bay.
I shoved my memories aside as I reached the top of the staircase and walked through the glass doors, my eyes scanning the open space. The walls were painted midnight blue with silver accents. To the side, a flight of stairs led to a balcony area with black-leathered booths and tables. To the right stood an impressive bar. Its counter was crafted from oak, matching its back wall. The countertop was a polished black granite with silver accents running along the edges. The bar stools that lined the counter were upholstered in fine brown leather, and I could still faintly smell its faint newness from where I stood. Whoever owned this space spared no expense in creating it.
I had been so engrossed in checking out the space that I didn’t notice the six-foot-one, lean yet muscular man stepping out of the door marked “Management Only” on the farthest side of the room. His green eyes were narrowed, his tone sharp as he spoke.
“Ms. Malone. You’re twenty minutes late.”
My breath caught in my throat. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Spinning around, I came face to face with Sebastien Quantum.
Good God! What is he doing here?
I cleared my throat, but my voice still cracked a bit as I spoke. “S-Sebastien, what are you doing here?”
Sebastien crossed the room, his hands casually tucked into his pants pockets, his eyes never leaving mine. “Here, I’m known as Mr. Quantum, and you will address me as such.” His tone was clipped. “To answer your question.” He raised his hand and gestured around the room before returning it to his pocket. “This is my club. And you’re late for the interview.”
My initial shock at seeing Sebastien quickly shifted to another emotion: rage. Of all the people that my applications could’ve gone to, it was this self-absorbed prick standing in front of me. He hadn’t changed one bit. A thousand years could pass. and it still wouldn’t be enough to erase the things he’d done and said to me, all in the name of teasing his best friend’s little sister. His now-cocky attitude made me feel like the shy, insecure girl he bullied all those years ago. But I refused to let him see the effect he had on me.
Mask on, baby girl.
I smiled and put on my best customer service voice.
“ Mr. Quantum. I deeply apologize for being late. There was an accident on the highway, and traffic was backed up for miles.”
Surely, you have a television or a radio in this very sophisticated establishment that keeps you updated on the news?
I bit back the last line, not wanting to jeopardize the interview. Because as much as I hated to be in the same room as him, I needed him to hire me.
Sebastian gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable.
“Follow me to my office.”
He turned, heading to the door marked “Management Only.” I followed, releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. He motioned for me to go ahead of him. As I climbed the stairs, I felt self-conscious as I sensed his eyes boring into me from behind.
Girl, chill, it’s not like he’s watching your ass.
But, still, I hoped I wouldn’t do anything dorky like slip and fall back into him. I can see the front of the newspapers now: Overweight Woman Crushes Interviewer at His Own Establishment.
I sighed with relief as we made it to the top of the stairs without any fatal accidents. Once there, he took the lead. Down the hallway, we passed a few doors before he opened the last one. He stepped inside and waited for me to enter before closing the door behind us.
The walls of the room were painted a soft cream, and at the center of the room stood a luxurious light gay three-piece sofa set consisting of a plush three-seater, a cozy loveseat, and an armchair.
“Have a seat, Ms. Malone.”
I took a seat on the three-seater, placing my handbag and portfolio beside me. I expected him to sit in one of the other chairs, but instead, Sebastien sat next to me. He positioned himself so close that when we turned to face each other, our knees almost touched. As his rich, musky cologne settled between us, I noticed the compass tattoo on his left hand. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any other tattoos hidden under his shirt, which tightened at the biceps when he moved.
Girl! He’s a pig. A bully. Stop checking him out!
Sebastien cleared his throat, and my eyes snapped to his intense green ones. “Ms. Malone. I hope your tardiness today doesn’t reflect the quality of work you provide to high-class clients like myself.”
My jaw tightened and my lips contorted into what I hoped was one of my professional smiles. If Sebastien noticed the flash of anger in my eyes, he didn’t show it.
“I can assure you, Mr. Quantum, that I am very efficient at my job, having successfully completed projects for clients of higher rank than a club owner.” I paused for a bit to let my words sink in. His brow lifted slightly, and I smirked inwardly. Had I ever had any high-end clients? Yes. Did it have anything to do with my event planning business? No. But he didn’t have to know that.
He leaned forward, his eyes pinning me into place.
“Let me make this very clear, I don’t need your services . I chose you out of the numerous qualified applications that were on my desk. If you can’t give me the results that I want, you will be fired on the spot, no questions asked.”
The way he said “chose” made goosebumps appear along my arms. Did Sebastien purposefully choose me to continue with the torture that had stopped when he and Dean left for college? I’d never mentioned to Dean how cruel Sebastien had been when we were kids because I didn’t know if he’d take me seriously, and ruining their friendship wasn’t something I wanted to be responsible for. But Sebastien wouldn’t be that petty, would he?
Petty or not, you need this job.
I forced my voice to remain steady despite the emotional turmoil that rose in my chest. “And what results are you looking for Mr. Quantum?”
Sebastien inched closer, and this time our knees brushed. An unexpected rush of heat shot through me, one I tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress.
Are you reacting to him like this because a man as handsome as Sebastien Quantum has never spoken more than two words to you?
I fought to stay composed and professional as Sebastien spoke.
“This will be my tenth branch of Club Lunaire. The grand opening will be in a month, with members of the general public invited as well as exclusive elite guests. The total number of persons allowed in the building without it being a fire hazard is two hundred. Caite, my secretary, has already emailed you the logistics. My job today is to make it clear that the success of this event is non-negotiable. Do you think this is a job you can handle, Ms. Malone?”
The job wasn’t the problem. The person offering it was.
“Mr. Quantum, I can assure you that you chose the right person for the job. Executing events flawlessly is what I’m known for. However, the budget for an elaborate event such as this makes a world of difference. Do you have a budget in mind?"
Sebastien’s lips curled into a slow smile and a rich, sexy chuckle escaped his lips, making my heart skip a beat.
“Ms. Malone, there is no strict budget. Quality is the priority. Your salary for this event will be thirty thousand dollars, with a bonus of ten thousand if the event gets rave reviews. Meet all my expectations and there will be a permanent position for you within my company as our planner, with a salary of fifty thousand per month, perks notwithstanding.”
This is just the type of job I’ve been waiting for. But why does it have to be handed to me on a silver platter that Sebastien’s holding?
I smiled, adding as much enthusiasm in my voice as I could muster. “When do you want me to start?”
“Tomorrow. Quantum Enterprises Head Office at eight a.m. sharp. Caite will send the information. You’ll sign the contract and begin immediately.”
A look of confusion crossed my face. Quantum Enterprises?
Sebastien must have seen it. “Ms. Malone, is something the matter?”
If the name of Sebastien’s company is Quantum Enterprises, there was no way I would’ve sent my resume. Or maybe I did, out of desperation. Either way, I got the job. Yay me?
“No. Mr. Quantum. I’ll be there at eight a.m.”
“If you’re one minute late, Ms. Malone, don’t bother showing up.”
I nodded and rose to my feet. “Thank you for the opportunity. I’ll see you tomorrow at 8 a.m. Mr. Quantum.”
As I made my way out of his office, I hoped against all hopes that I’d be able to survive the upcoming month with Sebastien Quantum.