Silver Crest Holdings

~Ivy Pov~

“Mom! The bus!”

“Oh no—”

I grabbed my bag from the kitchen chair while nearly tripping over a half-open moving box, the digital clock on the microwave flashed 8:17 AM. My interview was at nine and across town and I still looked like stress in human form.

“Noah!” I shouted while rushing toward the hallway. “Did you feed Luna before school?”

Our newly adopted cat stared at me from the couch like she paid rent here.

Noah paused near the door guiltily. “...Maybe.”

“Oh my God.”

Emma burst into laughter. “That means no.”

I pointed dramatically toward the kitchen. “Food. Cat. Now.”

The twins ran in opposite directions while I struggled to put on my heels one-handed, this was exactly why people needed second parents Or clones or even personal assistants.

Five minutes later, with the school bus driving off with twins I was sprinting toward the bus stop with my folder pressed tightly against my chest while cold morning air whipped through my dark hair.

Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. Please, the bus pulled away right in front of me, I stopped on the sidewalk breathing heavily in horror.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A few people nearby glanced at me sympathetically, one older man actually laughed.

Rude.

I checked the time again and nearly cried, the next bus wouldn’t arrive for another fifteen minutes, I paced anxiously near the stop while trying not to spiral into panic, this interview mattered too much.

Silver Crest Holdings wasn’t just another company, It was opportunity. Security. A future and I desperately needed all three, when the next bus finally arrived, I practically climbed inside, the entire ride felt endless.

Every red light personally offended me, every slow driver became my enemy, by the time I jumped off near Silver Crest’s towering building downtown, I was already running late.

“Sorry— excuse me—”

I hurried through the crowded sidewalk while fixing my blouse nervously, then disaster struck again, my folder slipped from my hands completely, papers exploded everywhere.

“Oh no!”

People walked around me while sheets scattered across the pavement, wonderful and humiliating, exactly what I needed before an interview, a woman suddenly crouched beside me, quickly gathering papers before the wind carried them farther away.

“I’ve got this one,” she said warmly.

“Thank you so much,” I breathed out.

She handed me several pages with a soft smile, she looked elegant in a fitted cream suit with gold earrings and sleek dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. Probably late twenties or early thirties, definitely rich and composed, everything I wasn’t right now.

“Interview?” she guessed while glancing toward the Silver Crest building.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” she laughed.

I smiled nervously while collecting the remaining papers.

“First impressions are going terribly.”

“You’re fine.” She stood smoothly. “Trust me, people have shown up worse.”

I blinked. “Really?”

“One guy vomited in the lobby last year.

My eyes widened in horror.

She laughed again. “Nerves.”

Honestly, that almost made me feel better.

“You interviewing for communications?” she asked.

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

Something about her smile seemed knowing somehow.

I adjusted my folder carefully. “Do you work there?"

“Yes.”

That explained the confidence.

I glanced toward Silver Crest’s massive glass building nervously. “What’s it like?”

“Fast-paced. Exhausting. Competitive.” She tilted her head slightly. “But worth it.”

I swallowed, that sounded terrifying.

The woman studied me briefly before asking casually, “You know much about the CEO?”

“Not really.”

Which was true, I only knew rumors online, youngest billionaire CEO, impossible standards, emotionally unavailable, terrifying in meetings. Basically every rich fictional man ever.

The woman smirked faintly. “That’s probably for the best.”

Now I was curious.

“That bad?”

“Depends who you ask.”

I frowned slightly.

“He’s very private,” she continued. “Most employees barely interact with him unless necessary.”

“That sounds intimidating.”

“It is.”

Great. Exactly what I needed.

She checked her watch suddenly. “You should hurry. Silver Crest hates lateness.”

Panic returned immediately.

“Oh no.”

I quickly grabbed my folder completely this time. “Thank you again.”

“Good luck,” she said softly.

Then she walked toward the building entrance confidently while I hurried after her.

Inside, Silver Crest looked even more intimidating than outside, massive marble floors. Towering glass walls. Elegant reception desks, everyone moved with purpose while carrying expensive laptops and coffees that probably cost more than my groceries, I suddenly felt very aware that I came here by bus, the receptionist smiled professionally.

“Name?”

“Ivy Hart. Nine AM interview.”

She typed something quickly before nodding. “Thirty-second floor.”

I thanked her and stepped into the elevator alongside several employees discussing stock numbers I didn’t understand, my heart pounded harder with every passing floor, you need this job, don’t mess this up.

The interview waiting area overlooked the city skyline beautifully, but I barely noticed because anxiety had officially consumed me.

A blonde assistant approached. “Miss Hart?”

“Yes.”

“They’re ready for you.”

I followed her into a sleek conference room where three people already sat waiting, a silver-haired man. A younger brunette woman. And another older executive with glasses. All intimidating.

“Good morning,” the silver-haired man greeted warmly. “I’m Richard Bennett.”

The others introduced themselves quickly afterward, then the interview started immediately, at first the questions came gently.

“Tell us about your previous editing experience.”

“How do you handle deadlines?”

“Describe your work style.”

Then things became harder.

“What would you do if senior management rejected your campaign proposal publicly?” the woman asked.

I straightened slightly. “Listen first before reacting emotionally.”

Richard nodded thoughtfully. “And after?”

“Figure out why it failed.”

Something approving flashed across his expression, the interview lasted nearly an hour, by the end, my nerves finally settled enough for my actual personality to appear, which apparently helped.

Because Richard smiled near the end and said, “You’re very composed under pressure.”

If only he saw me chasing buses this morning.

“Thank you.”

The woman beside him looked through my file. “You completed college while working multiple jobs?”

I hesitated briefly. “Yes.”

“That’s difficult.”

You have no idea, but I only smiled politely, nobody here needed my tragic backstory, eventually the interview ended with promises of follow-up emails soon, no guarantees or certainty, but as I left the building later that afternoon, hope still fluttered quietly inside my chest, maybe I actually had a chance.

By evening, exhaustion dragged through my entire body, the twins sat across from me at our tiny dining table eating spaghetti while talking over each other loudly.

“Mom, Noah said aliens probably exist.”

“They do probably exist.”

Emma gasped dramatically. “See?!”

I laughed softly while opening my email on my phone absentmindedly, then froze, Silver Crest Holdings, my heart stopped.

“What?” Noah asked immediately.

With shaking fingers, I opened the email.

Congratulations, Miss Hart… I screamed, actually screamed, the twins jumped violently.

“What happened?!” Emma yelled.

“I GOT THE JOB!”

Silence, then absolute chaos exploded, the twins screamed louder than me, Noah nearly knocked over his chair. Emma tackled me into a hug. I started crying and laughing at the same time.

“You got the rich people job?!” Noah shouted excitedly.

“Yes!”

Emma looked ready to explode with happiness. “Does this mean we’re staying here forever?!”

I laughed through tears. “Probably!”

The twins cheered so loudly our cat ran under the couch in fear, for the first time in years, real hope filled our tiny home completely, not survival, not barely managing, but hope.

I held my children tightly while their excited voices filled the room, and for one beautiful moment, everything finally felt like it might be okay.