MEREDITH:
"You can’t keep wallowing in the past," I mentally scolded myself. Today was one of those days that reminded me how unlucky I was. I just needed a shoulder to lean on. Someone to cuddle while I cried my heart out. Well, no one had that time. Everyone was busy with their lives. At the end of the day, what you have is yourself.
I didn’t even notice that I had been crying all along until I felt my blouse become wet against my skin. Great! Now my makeup is ruined. A great way to describe my life was boyfriendless, jobless, visionless, and soon-to-be homeless, since I couldn’t afford the rent.
More than anything, I needed to hear that everything was going to be alright. That this was temporary. I just needed some sort of comfort from any source. I couldn’t care less. I guess we don’t always get what we wish for.
Don’t you dare show your weakness, Meredith Tate? Pull yourself together and figure out what to do next. You’ve fought tougher things than getting rejected in different offices. Shit! I’m going to keep on crying.
My lip wobbled as I kept sobbing, not caring if it drew the attention of people. I was so frustrated. Every firm I stepped into today had told me no to my face. Some cared to go through my CV and others didn’t even take a look at it. They just turned me down upfront without giving me a chance. Was it my destiny to get rejected, abandoned, and denied? Or, something was wrong with my face.
When I was convinced that I could cry no more, I reached for the piece of scrappy paper I had jotted down a number I saw during an advertisement.
Dialing the number, I made sure to clear my throat to make my vocals sound confident and readjusted myself. Hopefully, this works out. I don’t mind taking up any offer in this state. I just needed a means of income. Not including anything illegal, of course.
The phone rang twice and no one answered. “Another dead end,” I mumbled to myself in disappointment. Settling to put the phone back in my purse, I got the encouragement to give it another shot. “One more time,” I said as I dialed. Fortunately, someone picked up.
“Hello, this is Pierce Enterprise. Who is on the line and how may I help you?” A female voice asked. Her voice was overwhelming.
“My name is Meredith Tate. I’m calling concerning the opening in your enterprise for the position of a Personal Assistant?” I began biting my nails due to anxiety, hoping that it wasn’t another negative answer shoved into my face. Or, as the case may be, shoved into my ears.
“Okay? Can I address you as Miss or Mrs.?”
“Miss,” I hurriedly responded.
“Well, Miss Tate, you’re in luck depending on your capacity to get here as soon as possible.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Today is the final day for the interviewing, screening, and clearing of candidates for the position.”
“I didn’t know that.” Maybe it was a sign that I was finally about to get something. I think it was too soon to be excited. I felt jittery, and my palms became sweaty. A positive answer shouldn't feel this way.
“Miss Tate, do you have a pen and paper close to you so that I can give you the address to where you’re meant to go for the interview.”
I fumbled with my purse and got out a pen. Turning the blank part of the piece of paper I had in my hands so that I could get a space to write, “please go ahead," I said.
“Pierce Avenue, Sunnyvale, Santa Clara, California. If you can make it there within the next hour, that would be to your advantage.”
“Oh, thank you so much for the information.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy the rest of your day. And, good luck, Miss Tate.” She hung up the call before I could say anything else.
Okay. All I had to do was to get my ass to that address.
Shooting to my feet, I grabbed my purse and quickly walked into a nearby Café, heading straight to the ladies. I needed to fix myself. Going to an interview looking shitty can never be a good idea. The bad thing was that I didn’t bring my makeup kit or extra clothes. I’ve to make this work.
As soon as I hit the first unit with a large mirror, I put my purse on top of the bathroom sink. Looking into the mirror, my face looked horrible — puffy from crying and smeared with makeup. I looked as if I had just survived a horrific experience. Come to think of it, I just survived one anyway.
I took a piece of face wipe and cleaned off the makeup, keeping it as light as possible. I took a second one to clean the few stains on my blouse, making sure to keep it neat. Thank goodness I had chosen a gray-long-sleeved-satin blouse, pairing it with a black pencil skirt that stopped slightly below my knee and matched them with a gray pump and bucket purse that held my credentials.
Patiently, I began to blow on the wet area on my blouse to get it to dry quickly. Satisfied with the outcome, I re-styled my hair into a messy bun. One more glance at the mirror and I was good to go.
Gathering my things, I tossed the used wipes into the trash and headed out. Thankfully, as soon as I made it to the walkway, maneuvering my body through the booming street of California, I was able to locate my scrappy 190 Mercedes-Benz in a deserted corner where I parked it.
I climbed in, shut the door behind me, and tossed my bag on the passenger seat. Jabbing the keys in the ignition, my car came to life, letting out choked sounds that stood as a reminder to me that it was nearly the end of its life span before it died down.
“Not now, the universe. Let this go well.”
Another attempt and it started, sounding better than before. That should work. If I could, I would fly to that address. I shouldn't miss this opportunity for any reason.
MEREDITH: Stepping on the gas, I drove as carefully as I could, trying to beat the time. After a few red lights, a traffic jam, and listening to “Don’t Let Me Down” by The Chainsmokers ft Daya, I approached my destination. Still couldn’t believe that I was a terrific driver. I guess one's hidden talents come to light in times of distress. As I approached the driveway, my mouth fell open. The place looked like a fortress. What kind of office needed such a location, and what work did they do? I stepped out of the vehicle and buzzed the bell on the gate. “Hello,” a male voice answered. “My name is Meredith Tate, and I’m here for the interview.” To my surprise, the gate opened. I went back into my car and drove in. When I least expected it, I hit the second gate. This time, armed men were lurking around the perimeter, all alert like they were expecting a third world-war. To say that I was terrified was an understatement. The last time I saw this was in a movie. I wonder if the Pre
MILES: “We have a donor. We found one that matches your heart,” Grenada’s squealing voice boomed loudly over the phone. It was so loud that I almost lost my hearing. She was more excited than I was. “Good,” I casually said. I mean, wasn’t I paying ridiculously well to move Heaven and Hell to get me one? “When is the procedure?” “Oh, come on, Miles. You should be grateful. It wasn’t easy, but I guess the universe wants to give you a second chance.” True. But, I couldn’t come off as weak by showing my emotions. As a matter of fact, I don’t have any emotions to show. All the same, this only proved that my way of life was pure, and I had unfinished business with a lot of people. “We will need you to come in as soon as possible. I must warn you, this is a fifty-fifty percent procedure. We’ll do our best to take care of you. The rest is up to God." “The best is what I pay for. Make sure you do everything necessary to make things go well. I wouldn’t want to end up with improper stitches
MEREDITH: Things didn't end well for me as I got home. Already the day had been annoying and overwhelming, coupled with the fact that I had to deal with that homeless-robe-wearing guy. My goodness! I wish a bottle of wine would take away the discomfort. Before I even found my keys, trying to reach the source of joy, which was the wine, an envelope caught my eye. The caption didn't fascinate me. It reminded me of the reason I had almost drowned myself in tears today. It read, 'Eviction Notice!!!' boldly written in red. There was no point reading the rest of the content because it wouldn't change a thing. So, I shredded it into pieces and dumped it. I took a deep breath and prepared my mind to get all the sleep I could for tonight because soon, I would be losing a roof over my head. It felt like the alarm started blaring as soon as my aching body found comfort on the bed, but it turned out that I had slept for a long time. I turned the noise off and wrapped a robe around my body to go
MILES:"Mr. Pierce, you need to take it easy on yourself. Stressing out will only weaken your immune system. Take a rest and take your medication later. And consider hiring the assistant we recommended; it will be beneficial in the long run," Grenada advised as I settled down.The dizziness was fading, and I was regaining my composure. "Fire the HR and everyone who gave that girl access. Every single one of them!" I commanded."Yes, sir," Brandon replied promptly.I wasn't upset about being undermined, but rather by the audacity of the girl who dared to challenge me. She was not the type of person I would ever allow to be part of my team. I had specific preferences when it came to my employees, with Grenada being the exception. For women, I preferred tall, slim, model-like figures, blonde or brunettes, not someone with dark hair and curves, lacking in fear."Get me, Michael. Now!" I demanded. He was my lawyer, and with his help, I would make sure that girl regretted crossing me. He had
MEREDITH:My new boss was a constant source of irritation, a thorn in my side that I couldn't wait to be rid of once my debt was settled. Who would have thought that, instead of finding a job, I would end up paying off a debt? It was disheartening.He was impossible to deal with—laying down ridiculous rules, exuding pride, and always cutting me off mid-sentence, which was infuriating. But what could I do? I was stuck with him for the time being. Brandon reappeared to show me around the mansion.The mansion was undeniably beautiful, but it came with a multitude of restrictions. There were numerous areas I wasn't allowed to access. My routine became a familiar pattern: knock but don't enter Mr. Pierce's room, wait in the sitting room, and if, by some chance, I needed to spend the night, it had to be in a tiny room opposite his. And while there, I was to remain out of his sight. Did the man despise my presence that much?He treated me like I was a plague, but I held no ill feelings towar
MILES: The last business meeting ended in Waterloo, and I was forced to reschedule another. Although not pleasant for Grenada to hear, we didn't have much of a choice. Today, she had to come in and administer those tubes that ensured I didn't crash along the line. My strength level has been low recently, and I couldn't even manage a proper ten-minute walk without panting. Good health and a strong heart are underrated, my friend. We kept the knowledge of my condition as private as possible. Only important people knew about it; Brandon, the head of my security team, Isabel, the head maid, my nutritionist, and, of course, Grenada. My business partners and the press only knew that I was taking a break from work, nothing more. That was the key to success. Keep secrets and information at bay, or they will use that information against you later on. If they don't need to know, there's no need to tell. Meanwhile, having free time gave me the opportunity to learn more about how annoying and i
MEREDITH: My heart raced as Isabel prodded about the incident with Mr. Pierce. "You called him a cleaner?" Isabel asked incredulously, setting the scene for the juicy gossip. The girls, except for Britney, were interested in knowing what happened between me and Miles. They said that he came back ranting and so angry that he fired an entire team. While she made the food, I thought of keeping them entertained. The house was so boring and deserted for crying out loud. They were lovely and we rapidly became friends. At least now I have a place to hide and pass the time whenever I am in the house. “I didn't mean to, though. I mean, he came out wearing a robe and looking like a cleaner instead of like Miles Pierce.” Lowering my voice, “and, he was rude,” I whispered. Isabel burst into a belly laugh. “No wonder you've been on his bad side.” Cutting in, “he is always on his bad side. Grumpy and moody all the time,” Lucinda added, smiling. By the time the food was ready, I was salivating
MILES: Why the hell were business functions and meetings invented? It was just an avenue to show off and run into people you despise. Anyway, I got settled in my seat as the function began while I had a mini-meeting with my partner and his wife. We were looking into investing in an agricultural company, which seemed more sensible before they switched and brought up the hydro-electrical project idea. It wasn't a bad one. But, I wasn't looking at expanding my company considering my current state. Starting a new business was like giving birth. The procedures you go through in nurturing a newborn are what you apply to make a new business successful: groom, care, nurture, love, fight for, protect, and believe in it. And, it was best if you oversaw everything. That way, you could guide the path it took. Entrusting it to someone might not give you the satisfaction you crave when you see the result. I bent over the table, the din of the busy restaurant fading into the background as I strugg