CHAPTER III: Job Hunting in a Gilded Cage

I leaned back against the headboard of my monstrously large bed and peeked out the bedroom window. The pavement outside was covered in thick layers of snow, a cold, silent blanket over Manhattan. I quickly sat back upright, adjusting the massive pillows on my lap with my laptop placed on top of it.

It had been barely two hours since I’d arrived at the apartment. It was a large-sized house, of course, chosen and paid for by Dad, despite my desperate request for something small and anonymous. It was designed by some famous Taiwanese firm that showcased an ability to play with texture, light, and minimalism. The focal point and most dramatic feature was the high ceiling, representing itself with only a smidgen of light and a solitary roof fan. The eye was instantly drawn up by the vertical lines and natural light.

The room utilized an uneasy balance of natural tones, wood, and stone, making it feel suffocatingly modern. It was a cutting-edge take on what one might feel while sitting in a protected backwoods. The fan, a cool wind. The enormous windows, the daylight. The wood surrounding the space and dotting the furnishings? The expensive cage that still surrounded me.

The view from the living area out into the hallway was dramatic, almost theatrical. It felt as if you were looking toward the sun, even though it was only a uniquely placed lighting sconce. In the bedroom, the same wood tones carried through in the floor and the room divider, which doubled as both part of the wardrobe and the headboard. A built-in vanity stood across the room next to the terrace windows. The closet space was ample—a shrine to designer goods I hadn't unpacked.

Dad insisted that I choose a big and cozy place to stay despite my clear, desperate desire to have a small, unnoticed one.

I sighed and closed my eyes. I had been staring at the laptop screen for half an hour, scrolling through job listings that only confirmed my hopelessness. I’d carefully scrubbed my digital presence. My resume only contained the absolute minimum required information; I did not include anything that stood out, as I was terrified of anyone knowing I came from the Mcfeller family.

I doubted anyone would hire me based on my capabilities alone, not when most people only wanted a transaction, an investment opportunity. People hired Khloe Mcfeller to become their business partner, giving me offers that talked more about their profits and making contracts that ensured they had more benefits than they shared fairly. I needed to be Audrey.

I stopped scrolling abruptly. My breath hitched.

Direct Hiring for Secretary.

The listing was glaringly simple, yet it felt like a beacon in the chaotic sea of the internet.

1. Must be a bachelor's degree holder.

2. With good verbal and written communication skills and has language facility.

3. Computer literate and technology savvy.

4. Must have good interpersonal relations.

5. Meticulous with details and has organizational, as well as time management skills.

6. Willing to do other jobs that may be assigned.

If you have these qualifications please email us your resume to cazenterprise@g***l.com

“Ahhh!!” I squealed, startling myself. This was it. Finally, a decent job! I had been having trouble finding one, as it was the middle of the year and it was rare to see a major company with a vacancy for an executive secretary, especially one that paid a decent starting salary. The salary rate was good, the requirements were standard, and it felt too coincidental—too perfect. I was in dire need of a job, and a suitable one appeared mere hours after my arrival.

A prickle of unease ran down my spine. Too easy, Khloe. But I pushed the paranoia down. I had to take the risk. I immediately attached my carefully crafted ‘Audrey’ resume and hit send.

I stretched my legs and arms. They had been aching due to not moving for so long; I hadn't even finished unpacking. I had immediately engrossed myself in job hunting, hoping to outrun the silence of the empty house. I paced the polished wooden floor, my eyes constantly flicking back to the screen. Five hours passed. Still no response. My hope wavered, anxiety taking its place. I really needed this opportunity.

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Knock! Knock! Knock!

The sharp sound startled me so badly I nearly dropped my phone. Before I could even ask who it was, the door swung open.

“You pig!”

I smiled instantly, knowing already who it was, but I quickly replaced the smile with a deep frown, putting one hand dramatically on my chest. I faked a pained expression. “Ouch, you have wounded my heart. What did I do to you to say such a thing?” I looked at the trio standing in my foyer.

“Why did you not tell us that you are in Manhattan!?” Haines—ever the dramatic one—yelled. “Hell, you could have told us that you are planning to come here so that we could have fetched you at the airport!”

“You deserved to be called a pig ’cause you eat like one,” Claude finished, his expression deadpan.

The twins, Haines and Claude, had been my best friends since daycare. We were inseparable. They saved me when someone bullied me in elementary school, and they had been having my back ever since. They were my other halves, and I wouldn't trade them for the world. Emmaline stood behind them, arms crossed, trying to look severe but failing miserably as a grin stretched her lips.

“Well, I wanted to surprise you guys, and seeing that you are all here, I’m guessing my parents told you about me being in Manhattan,” I said, shrugging. “I’m sure my sister, Illyria, didn't tell you, as she’s busy with her career and barely knew about my plans.”

“Bummer. You should have told us anyway, or else your face will not be covered with pies.” Before I could react and ask what Emmaline was saying, my vision exploded in white and red. Something cold and creamy hit me hard. My face was instantly covered in pies.

“What the cow!” I screamed, spluttering as they continued to throw pies at my face. I hadn’t seen them bringing anything! Where did it come from?

“Serves you right!” Haines laughed.

“I did not see you guys bringing something! Hell, when did you even have the tendency to plan something so cruel!?” I yelled, rubbing my eyes fiercely to clear the cream so I could see their maniacal faces.

“Well, you do realize that you are in the kitchen, right? And we are not called devil trio for nothing, and you already know that,” Claude explained with a sassy wave of his hand toward the countertop, which was indeed covered in multiple disposable pie tins.

Realizing that I was, indeed, in the kitchen, I sighed in defeat. I had been so lost in the anxiety of waiting for the company’s response that I had forgotten my location. It had been nearly six hours, and still no word from CazoS Enterprise. The thought tightened my chest again.

“Anyways, care to give us an explanation about your sudden departure?” Emmaline said, the fun over, her tone turning serious.

“And no, you cannot make us wait for tomorrow for you to tell us. We do not care that you just arrived hours ago, and we all know that you were lost in your thoughts before we arrived here,” Haines added, his sharp perceptiveness cutting off my intended excuse.

Sighing loudly and raking a hand through my pie-covered hair, I knew there was no escape from their interrogation.

“I just thought that living in a wealthy life and receiving luxurious things doesn't make me happy anymore. I mean, it makes me happy, but I just think that I don’t deserve it.” I paused, the laughter gone, the raw emotion returning. “You know what had happened years ago, diba? Plus, I am not doing something to earn that luxurious things, and I definitely didn't sweat myself to get those. My parents just spoiled me with it, but I know they put an effort to buy me something expensive, and I don’t want that. Maybe this is the chance to find myself. I need to earn my own life and move forward.”

Just as Emmaline started to speak, my laptop pinged, the notification sound cutting through the air. My heart stopped. It was an email. cazenterprise@g***l.com.

The subject line was short, sharp, and entirely professional. Interview Confirmed.

My fingers trembled as I clicked it open. The weight of the world lifted, only to be replaced by the sheer, dizzying terror of the unknown. I had my job. I was walking straight into the fire.