The Interview

Adrian Vale's office was larger than Sophia's entire apartment.

She tried not to stare.

She failed.

Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an uninterrupted view of London.

The furniture was simple.

Elegant.

Expensive.

Everything looked as though it had been chosen by someone who believed clutter was a personal insult.

Sophia sat carefully in the chair opposite Adrian's desk.

Very carefully.

She didn't trust herself anymore.

Not after the wall.

Adrian remained standing.

He picked up her résumé.

Sophia watched him.

He read silently.

Too silently.

She shifted in her chair.

He continued reading.

She shifted again.

His eyes remained on the page.

Sophia cleared her throat.

Nothing.

She cleared it again.

Adrian finally looked up.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're staring at my résumé like you've discovered evidence of a murder."

His expression didn't change.

Sophia immediately looked down.

"I'll stop talking."

"Please do."

She nodded.

Silence.

Thirty seconds passed.

Sophia lasted twelve.

"So..."

Adrian looked at her.

"Sorry."

He sighed.

"You graduated in economics."

"Yes."

"Top ten percent."

"Yes."

"You've worked three jobs in four years."

"Four."

His eyes lifted.

"Your résumé says three."

"The fourth was cash."

"Why?"

"Because I needed money."

"Why do you need money?"

Sophia stared at him.

She knew she should give a polished answer.

Something about career development.

Professional growth.

Long-term goals.

Instead—

"My landlord is threatening to throw me out."

Adrian paused.

Sophia closed her eyes.

"That sounded desperate."

"Are you desperate?"

"Extremely."

He studied her.

"How much do you need?"

She blinked.

"What?"

"How much money?"

Sophia stared at him suspiciously.

"Is this a trick?"

"No."

"Because if I say a number, I feel like I'm negotiating with a hostage-taker."

His expression remained completely blank.

Sophia sighed.

"I should probably stop talking."

"Probably."

She nodded.

"Right."

Adrian returned to her résumé.

"Why did you apply for this position?"

"Because Vale Corporation is one of the largest privately controlled companies in Europe."

He said nothing.

Sophia continued.

"Your international operations have expanded by nineteen percent over the last three years."

His eyes lifted.

"Go on."

"The company has strong revenue growth, but your European operations have a significant employee turnover problem."

His expression sharpened.

"How significant?"

"Twenty-three percent higher than the industry average."

"Where did you get that?"

"Annual reports. Industry publications. Public filings."

"You researched us."

"I researched you."

"Why?"

Sophia shrugged.

"If I'm going to beg a billionaire for a job, I want to know exactly which billionaire I'm begging."

Silence.

Sophia's eyes widened.

She had said it again.

Out loud.

Adrian leaned back.

"You're very direct."

"Yes."

"Is that usually an advantage?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't think before I speak."

"I noticed."

"My mouth is usually faster than my brain."

Adrian looked at her for several seconds.

Then he glanced back at her résumé.

"Why should I hire you?"

Sophia sat straighter.

Finally.

A question she could answer.

"Because I'm good at solving problems."

"Give me an example."

She thought.

"My previous employer had a supply-chain issue that cost the company nearly two hundred thousand pounds."

"What did you do?"

"I found the problem."

"And?"

"I fixed it."

"How?"

Sophia hesitated.

"I don't think you'd like the answer."

"Try me."

"I discovered the warehouse manager was stealing."

Adrian's eyebrows rose.

"You accused him?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have proof."

"What did you do?"

"I followed him."

"You followed him?"

"For three weeks."

"Why?"

"Because I was broke and angry."

Adrian stared at her.

Sophia smiled apologetically.

"I told you. I don't think before I speak."

"How did you prove it?"

"I compared inventory records with delivery schedules."

"And?"

"He was creating fake delivery orders."

Adrian nodded slowly.

"How much did the company recover?"

"One hundred and eighty-six thousand pounds."

"Your employer rewarded you?"

Sophia laughed.

"No."

"Why?"

"They fired him."

"That's not what I asked."

"Oh."

She looked down.

"No."

"Why?"

"They said I had acted outside my position."

"And you stayed?"

"I needed the money."

"You've mentioned that."

"Because it's true."

Adrian studied her.

There was something unusual about her.

She wasn't polished.

She wasn't graceful.

She wasn't particularly good at hiding her desperation.

But she was intelligent.

And she was honest in a way most people weren't.

At least when it came to everything except the things she didn't want to discuss.

He closed the résumé.

"You start Monday."

Sophia froze.

"What?"

"Eight a.m."

She stared at him.

"You mean..."

"You're hired."

Her mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

For once.

Absolutely nothing.

Adrian waited.

Sophia suddenly stood.

"Thank you."

She reached for her folder.

Then her knee hit the edge of the desk.

"Ow."

Adrian watched her rub it.

Sophia looked embarrassed.

"That was the desk's fault."

He almost smiled.

Almost.

She gathered her things.

"I won't disappoint you."

"I hope not."

She reached the door.

Then stopped.

"One more thing."

Adrian looked up.

"Yes?"

She hesitated.

"You don't have to tell me."

"Tell you what?"

Sophia looked uncomfortable.

"About your wife."

The room changed.

Adrian's expression went cold.

Sophia didn't notice immediately.

"Everyone knows what happened."

He said nothing.

She continued anyway.

"She cheated on you, right?"

Silence.

Sophia realized too late that she had stepped into something she shouldn't have.

"Oh."

She swallowed.

"Sorry."

Adrian's eyes remained fixed on her.

"I don't know why I said that."

"You seem to have that problem."

"I do."

She smiled awkwardly.

"Quite badly."

Adrian said nothing.

Sophia nodded.

"Well."

She opened the door.

"Congratulations on the divorce."

Adrian's expression hardened.

Sophia froze.

"I mean..."

She winced.

"Not congratulations."

A pause.

"I don't know what I mean."

She looked genuinely horrified.

"Please forget I said anything."

Then she disappeared through the door.

Adrian remained alone.

For several seconds, he stared at the closed door.

Then his eyes fell to the résumé still lying on his desk.

At the bottom of the final page was a handwritten note.

He picked it up.

In small, hurried handwriting, it read:

"I really, really need this job. Please don't fire me."

Adrian stared at it.

And for the first time in six months—

he smiled.