Alice's POV
The moving day came faster than I expected. I woke up early, packed the remaining things, and met the movers at the old house. They loaded everything into the truck while I stood outside, watching.
I didn't feel sad leaving. I just felt relieved.
The house was small but clean. It had big windows that let in a lot of light. The kitchen was tiny but functional, and the bedroom was just big enough for my bed and a small dresser.
It was really perfect.
The movers helped me bring everything inside. I tipped them, and they left. Then I stood in the middle of my new living room, looking around.
I spent the rest of the day unpacking, and by evening, I was exhausted but satisfied.
I sat on the couch with a cup of tea. My body ached from all the moving.
I should have felt peaceful, but I didn't. Because I couldn't stop thinking about the interview at Hale Global Enterprises. About whether this was really a fresh start or just another trap. Big companies might have uniform acts of doing illegal activities.
I pulled out my phone and searched for the company online.
I scrolled through their "About Us" page. And then I saw something that made my eyes widen.
It was the photo of the CEO. He was the same man from the hotel whom I had had a one-night stand with. My jaw dropped.
He was Bryan Hale. I stared at the photo, my hands shaking. It was definitely him. I couldn't go wrong with the face.
"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."
I dropped my phone on the couch and stood, pacing the room. My mind was racing.
How was this possible? How could the man I'd slept with be the CEO of the company I was interviewing at?
Was this a coincidence? Or was it something else?
I picked up my phone again and kept reading. Bryan Hale. He is thirty-two years old. He took over Hale Global Enterprises five years ago and also expanded the company into one of the most successful real estate firms in the country.
There was more. Articles about business deals, photos from charity events, and interviews where he talked about his vision for the company.
He looked different in these photos. More formal and not like the man who'd kissed me that night. He didn't even look like someone who would fuck someone he barely knew.
I closed my phone and sat back down.
"What do I do?" I whispered.
I could cancel the interview, but I was tired of running, and I really needed this job and this fresh start.
Maybe he wouldn't remember me, since he was drunk too. Maybe that night meant nothing to him.
I tried to convince myself of that. But deep down, I knew it wasn't true, because he looked at me when he kissed me. It didn't feel like nothing; it felt like everything.
I spent the next two days preparing for the interview. I practiced my answers, ironed my clothes, and printed out extra copies of my resume.
But no matter how much I prepared, I couldn't shake the nervousness.
On Thursday night, I barely slept as I kept tossing and turning, thinking about what I would say if he recognized me. If he brought it up that night.
Friday morning came. I had to give my best look. I tied my hair in a ponytail and put on light makeup.
"You can do this, Alice," I said. "It's just an interview. Just be professional. Just get through it." I murmured while looking at myself in the mirror.
I grabbed my bag and left the house. The bus ride downtown felt longer than usual. I kept checking the time, making sure I wasn't late.
The company building looked luxurious. One could tell how rich a person must be to own something like that. I took a deep breath and walked inside.
The receptionist smiled at me.
"Good morning. How can I help you?"
"I'm here for an interview," I said. "Alice Reynolds."
She checked her computer.
"Ah, yes. Fifth floor. Take the elevator on your right." She said calmly.
"Thank you."
There was a coffee shop in the lobby. I bought a cup to calm my nerves.
I walked to the elevator. My hands were even shaking as I pressed the button.
I stepped inside the moment it opened. On the fifth floor, the door opened, and I stepped out carefully into a busy hallway. People were walking everywhere, some talking on phones, carrying files, and moving around.
I looked around, trying to find the interview room. The receptionist had said it was down the hall to the left.
I started walking, looking at the door numbers. Then all of a sudden, when my mind was all focused on finding the room, I bumped into someone hard.