CHAPTER 3

I groaned to the piercing ringtone and stretched my sore limbs, still very much half-asleep. I groped across the bed for the phone, answering on the second ring.

“Robin, I have great news for you! Dad secured you an interview for a position at McCullen Confectionery. You’ll have the interview at McCullen Heights.” Lana screamed with a shrill voice, making me snap my eyes open, my heart stuttering as the words gradually sank in. The silence lingering before Lana’s voice thudded in my ears.

“Hey,” she snapped. “Did you hear me?”

“Well… I…I just can’t believe it. How?” I said, my brows knitting in surprise, my jaw dropping slightly, wide eyed.

“Uh, duh,” she teased flippantly. “My dad holds the keys to a lot of high places, darling, the interview is at eleven. Best of luck, Rob.”

I tapped the end button and stared at my phone, stunned.

Was I dreaming?

An interview?

After countless unsuccessful interviews over the preceding weeks, I had begun to admit to failure. The outcome remained unchanged, and there weren’t any grounds to expect otherwise in the foreseeable future. I wasn’t one to give up easily, but after the relentless grind of the job hunt, I finally called in a favour from Lana and her dad, Mr. Betton.

I had wanted to navigate the job search on my own, to earn my own way without leaning on Lana. But pride had its limits, and I had to admit, I needed help if only to expedite what felt like an endless process. However, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. I hadn’t expected a call for an interview so soon.

I called her back immediately, she picked up on the first ring.

“What’s up? Need directions?” she said teasingly.

“I know my way around. I just wanted to thank you for…”

“Robin,” she interrupted, “We’re practically sisters. I’m glad you came to me, this is nothing. Now, stop with the formalities and ace the interview that’ll be enough. Good?”

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me.

“Hello?” she called out. “You there, Rob?”

“Yes. I’m here,” I said after a moment. “Thank you. I won’t disappoint you. I love you.”

“That’s more like it,” she said. “I’ve got a mountain of papers to grade. Catch you at home later?”

“You bet.”

I hit end, and dropped the phone onto the bed, my pulse still racing. McCullen Confectionery? The biggest confectionery in the world? My inner goddess squealed.

It was only eight in the morning, plenty of time if I didn’t waste it. I launched into my morning ritual with full military focus; a quick workout to shake off the nerves, scrambled eggs, a fruit bowl, and coffee—strong… Always strong. Especially on days like today when the stakes were high.

After my shower, I slipped into a silhouette, blue dress that fell just below my knees—soft and professional. I booted on my laptop, ran through some mock interview questions, as I paced around the room between answers.

I couldn’t fuck this up.

Two hours and a full mug of coffee later, I was ready –an achievement in itself, considering timelines were never my strong suit. I smiled at my reflection, twirled in front of the mirror, then grabbed my purse and Lana’s car key. She had lent me her Audi A3 after mine was dashed.

Fingers crossed London traffic wouldn’t test my patience, or sanity today.

******

Getting to McCullen Heights was quite a gruelling journey, thank goodness for breakfast. I exhaled nervously, exited the car to the reception, and signed their books. I was handed a security pass. The brunette receptionist led me through a flight of stairs and endless trips in and out of elevators before finally pointing me to a colossal lobby, with wide glass panes everywhere. I was confronted by an imposing desk. A young woman with the name tag Anne stood up and smiled warmly at me, before directing me to a door.

I took tentative steps towards it, a slight tremor running through my hand as I reached for the door knob. The door expansively displayed a brass nameplate bearing the name, Jack McCullen. CEO.

I drew in a deep breath, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Freezing on the spot.

I stood dead in the doorway, utterly paralysed.

He was watching me, his gaze intense, his lips pursed as he quietly assessed me. He stood up, a towering behemoth of a man traipsing from behind his massive desk and moving towards me with long, unhurried strides, clearly registering my inability to move.

God, he is so beautiful.

“I’m Jack.”

His low, raspy voice further rooting me to the spot, my cheeks burning bright red. Jesus, I was an obvious hussy.

My heart slammed against my rib cage, my breath catching painfully in my throat, my thoughts reeling uncontrollably in all direction sexual, my mouth doing a terrible job forming words. Say something—anything! I just stood still, staring at him, while he gazed back, his piercing blue eyes holding me in place, immobilizing me. My Goodness.

I felt the blazing heat of his stare coursing through my body, making me languid.

What was happening to me?

 He was imposingly tall, burly figure and broad at the shoulders. I swallowed hard.

He wore a tailored, lush suit with a sharp, pristine jacket over a crisp charcoal shirt, complemented by a finely knotted black tie hanging loosely down the front of his broad chest, completing an impeccable ensemble.

When I still hadn’t responded after forever, he gently nudged at my shoulder.

I gulped.

God, what was up with me?

This man was… more than perfect.

His dirty blonde hair was immaculately styled and well-kept, his jaw square beneath a neatly groomed beard that did nothing to hide the handsome features beneath. His eyes were a deep, sapphire blue – intense, bright and far too consuming. He was lightly tanned and infuriatingly composed.

Oh God.

Owner of McCullen Heights?