Page 8 of My Unexpected Surprise

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“Oh my God…”

My words die.

The man steadying me is tall. Really tall. Dark hair threaded through with silver at the temples. Dark charcoal suit. Crisp white shirt open at the throat. Expensive watch glinting beneath the lobby lights.

And sharp gray eyes fixed on me with calm, unnerving focus.

I clear my throat. “Uh, sorry, I—”

“You okay?” He asks in the smoothest baritone I've ever heard. Like pure honey to my ears.

My eyes snap up and I look at him more carefully. That voice…

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he glances down at it. He looks back at me and lets go. “Go on.”

The man has already stepped back, walking briskly as he takes his call.

I stare after him for a second, wondering why something about him tickles at a memory.

As I speed-walk to the elevator, I pinch my cheeks for color and whisper the same mantra I have repeated since Nico was born.You got this, Liv. You've faced worse.

The hiring panel waits in a sleek conference room on the twenty-third floor. Three serious faces. One intimidatingly polished woman.

I launch into my presentation before my butt fully hits the chair, rattling off my experience at Calloway & Voss, my certifications, my fresh ideas for their family-office compliance division.

I lay it all out the way I rehearsed it at eleven o'clock last night with Nico finally asleep and a cup of tea forgotten beside me.

My mouth moves at double speed, the way it always does when I’m terrified. But the more I speak, the more impressed they seem.

I even catch a few slight nods. One smile.

Today's not all ruined after all.

The woman at the center of the table glances down at my résumé again.

“Your background is mostly legal communications,” she says. “Why transition into compliance strategy?”

Because legal communications stopped paying enough to keep my lights on.

Because my former boss decided downsizing sounded kinder than firing.

Because my son needs to eat at least three times every single day.

I don't say all that aloud. Instead, I fold my hands neatly in my lap and offer the corporate version.

“Compliance is really about trust, you know? Most people think it’s only regulations and policy, but–and this is backed with data–the companies that survive crises are usually the ones communicating clearly before things go wrong. Compliance is conscious storytelling.”

A beat of silence follows.

The man on the left nods slowly and the polished woman writes something down.

Please let this be a good sign.

Another interviewer flips through my portfolio. “You handled crisis response for Calloway & Voss during the HarborTech breach?”

“Yes.”

“That was messy.”