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And with that, he gracefully exits the café.
I pocket the cash and stare at the business card. I should throw it away, but I safely place it in my apron instead.
2
XRSecuritiesLtdmatches the stature of the neighbouring corporate buildings. I expected the building to be blacked out and mysterious, but the glass exterior surprises me.
Seconds after I arranged this meeting, I regretted it. I don’t know the first thing about pregnancy or hiswife.
I didn’t think it was possible, but the thought of his wife makes me more nervous than sitting in a negotiation with him. My imagination has run wild – imagining a dark-haired evil woman who is envious that I have been asked to carry her child. I see her narrow features judging me, the low-level barista and stripper, being asked to carry their child. I prepare myself for hostility and a firing line of questions.
I check my reflection to ensure I look as professional as the people bustling around me. My black hair is slicked back into a ponytail that will give me a headache. My beige trousers make my legs look longer than usual. I regret not wearing a layer underneath my blouse because the sheer material does little to hide my bra. Regardless, I like the way the neutral tones complement my skin tone. With one final nod of encouragement to my reflection, I enter the building.
As expected, the security is tight. I confirm my identity twice before being shown to the elevator. Per the email I received, I take the lift to the top floor.
The theme of glass continues with offices being separated with ceiling-to-floor length glass. The open-floor space gives no indication of where to go. The offices around the perimeter are all occupied with people too busy to notice the woman lost in an open maze.
After some aimless walking, I spot a receptionist and smile at her. “Hi,” I breathe. “I have a meeting with Mr Rivers at noon.”
The brunette has a warm smile and kind eyes. She taps away at her computer before asking for my ID. “Mr Rivers is in conference room one. He is expecting you.”
Once again, I look around, unsure which way to go. Thankfully, this time, the receptionist notices and offers to walk me there. She stops in front of a door that readsCR 1.
Through the glass, I see Xavier reading over paperwork, unaware of my presence on the other side. Today, he is wearing a charcoal grey suit and a matching tie. I try to imagine him in regular clothing, but the thought makes me chuckle.
Next to him, a woman sits, lost in a daydream. Her fingers tap against the wooden table. The giant diamond ring catches the sunlight and momentarily blinds me. My eyes move away from the hand to her face. Her perfectly curled hair frames her heart-shaped face. Her eyes aren’t narrowed and sharp as I imagined. They are round and have a dark-coloured iris reflecting my nerves. Her fuller cheeks are blown out as she takes several deep breaths. She catches me through the glass, and her pouty lips curl into a smile.
“Should I knock?”
Instead of answering me, she knocks on my behalf. His head snaps up, and he gestures for us to enter.
“Miss Hayes is here.”
“Thank you, Francesca. Can you hold any incoming calls until the end of this meeting unless absolutely necessary?”
She nods at him and excuses herself.
The long room has a table running from one end to another and can seat roughly thirty people. The furnishing emphasises howexpensiveeverything is. I choose the seat directly opposite them and gather my wits.
“It’s nice to see you again, Savannah. How are you today?”
“A little intimidated by this office,” I chuckle. “It’s a beautiful space.”
“Thank you. This is our headquarters. We opened this new building roughly six months ago.” He neatly stacks his paperwork before pushing it aside. “Let me introduce you to my wife.” He places his hand over hers. “This is Emery.”
She reaches across the table and offers a handshake. “It’s so nice to meet you, Savannah.”
I shake her hand and smile. “The pleasure is mine.” My heart is pounding in my chest as the couple watches me. I feel like a zoo animal.
“Xavier didn’t mention how beautiful you are.” Her smile and tone are sincere, but I don’t know how to respond.
Xavier clears his throat. “I thought it would be easier to look at today as a job interview. We interview you and vice versa. How do you feel about that?”
I feel like I don’t have a choice.
Xavier starts strong. “Are you currently in a relationship? Sexual or otherwise?”
I’m grateful for the mask of makeup covering my warm cheeks. I am a twenty-six-year-old woman who isn’t ashamed of my choices, but I still feel mortified at the abrupt question.
