4. Marina
CHAPTER 4
MARINA
" I 'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" I stammer.
One of the women gives me a pitying look, then slowly asks again. "I asked if you could think of a time that you had to correct a mistake that you made. What did you do to put it right?"
"Um…" I say, my mind blanking again.
I'd been so confident coming into this, and then seeing Ellis himself ruined everything.
Everyone thinks he's attractive, and I guess seeing him in person, he is — his chiseled jaw and piercing blue eyes aren't photoshopped. And even though he's sitting down, it's easy to see that, underneath his shirt that probably costs more than my hospital bills, he's well built, with handsome, broad shoulders and a strong chest.
But he has a reputation, and no matter how well he fits into his no doubt custom-tailored suit, the thought of him judging me has shaken me.
Now my nerves are shot, and all I can think about is Lila all by herself with a stranger. The thought makes me sick to my stomach. My baby, even if she's in good hands, isn't with me . How am I supposed to think of anything except her?
The interviewing panel all look at me expectantly. I open my mouth, willing anything to come out. But it doesn't.
And then the silence is broken by the beeping of my phone.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," I say, fumbling in every single pocket to try and find my phone.
I go to cancel the call and silence my phone, but then I spot the caller ID. It's Lila's daycare. Oh, my God, what if something's happened? What if there's something wrong with my baby? Maybe this is why I was worrying, because I was having a premonition of something terrible happening. All the worst cases flash through my mind, and my stomach flips over.
I'll never forgive myself if something happened because I wasn't there to look after her.
This interview has already gone the worst it could possibly go, and my baby is more important than any of these people, so I take a wobbly breath, stand up and say, "I'm so sorry. It's the daycare. I have to take this."
I flash them a weak smile then scurry over to the corner of the room. As I do, I notice Ellis shaking his head. Unsurprisingly, I don't think I've won him over.
That's okay. I don't think I would enjoy being turned into one of his emotionless robots anyway.
No doubt they're about to start whispering about me under their breaths, calling me disorganized and uncommitted. Whatever. I'm committed to one thing, and it isn't the whims of a billionaire. There will be other jobs. It's not time to worry just yet.
I turn my back to the panel and pick up, answering as quietly as I can. "What's happened? Is Lila okay? Do I need to come and get her?"
Susan chuckles heartily. "Don't worry, she's absolutely fine. I just thought you'd appreciate a quick update about how she's doing today. She's being very well behaved, getting on with all the other kids just fine and being a delight to my staff."
"Great," I say weakly. I can't exactly be angry — after all, this was just the final nail in the coffin for this interview. Even without the interruption, I don't think my chances would have improved.
Not from the way Ellis has been staring at me, anyway. His ice-blue eyes have been utterly piercing, staring at me like he's trying to see directly into my very core. The intensity is off-putting, and I can't imagine that doing all his menial tasks would be any fun.
I sigh. "Thanks for letting me know. I was worried about her."
"Well, you didn't need to be," says Susan. "She's a lovely baby."
"Thank you," I say, then add, "anyway, I've got to go." I can just sense that Susan is about to start launching into the kind of conversation you have with old friends, not with the kind you have with someone who is basically a glorified nanny looking after your child while you're supposed to be having a very important business interview.
Not that she could have known that because I didn't tell her, but the point still stands; she definitely is the kind of person who could keep you on the phone for an hour telling you cute little anecdotes about kids she knew once, or how this reminded her of that, or how Lila is ever so sweet, just like little so-and-so from twenty years ago when her own kids were small. Much as I find that endearing, now isn't the time.
"Oh, right. Goodbye," says Susan, almost flustered. I feel kind of bad, but I hang up before she can make any other attempts at a conversation.
I replace my phone in my pocket, turn back to Ellis and the team, and give them the best smile I can muster. It's maybe a three out of ten on the quality scale.
"Sorry about that," I say, walking back to the table with my head held as high as I can hold it. If I'm going down, which I definitely am, I'm at least going to pretend to have some dignity.
"Well, we don't have any more questions for you," says Ellis, barely even bothering to look up. "I think you've made it quite clear where your priorities lie, and I think you'll find it's quite clear where ours do, too. Priscilla, will you escort Miss Finch from the building?"
I suppose I should be glad that he was least polite enough to use my name, but the rejection still stings. As I leave the room, I hear him talking about lunch. It's like I never even existed to him. I suppose I didn't, really.
Oh, well. I'm not going to let some billionaire's opinion of who I am get to me. I'm never going to see him again. He made it perfectly clear that I didn't get the job, so I have nothing else to worry about.
The lady in the tight bun — Priscilla — escorts me all the way down to the ground floor, ushering me to the exit like she thinks I might be about to start making a scene. I'm not. I don't care that much.
Well, obviously I care. It's not like I wanted to shame myself in front of them. But I'm never going to see any of them again, so causing trouble seems utterly pointless now. I'd rather get back to Lila, who's waiting for me.
I can't wait to hold her again.
"Thank you for your time," Priscilla says with a tight smile. She gestures towards the door, and I take the hint. "Unfortunately, you won't be hearing from us again."
"I know," I say, shrugging. "Thank you."
She gives me a sympathetic shrug back, then turns on her heel and walks back to the elevator, pressing one perfectly manicured finger to the call button. I linger for just long enough to see her step inside and vanish.
I probably should feel ashamed to be walking out of here in disgrace. I am embarrassed about how badly it went, but I guess it just means I have to practice for the next one.
I can call this one the test run — and now I know that Lila will be okay without me, at least for a little while, I can breathe out while I do other stuff.
And, at least, now I know what not to do again. At least I've got the most embarrassing interview out of the way first. Things can only go up from here. I'm sure of it.
As I get back on the road, all I can think about is my baby. I will have to get a job eventually, but for right now, it's still okay, just me and her. And as she gets older, she'll understand why I had to leave her. She'll have everything she could ever want or need in the world. I'll be there for every joy and every heartbreak, and she will always, always be able to rely on me.
I swear it.