“Hurry, Auntie Sassa. We gotta go,” Tabi shouts from the doorway, clutching her favourite Disney princess doll, Belle.
“In five years, you’ll remember today as the first day of the rest of your life,” Sasha says as she leaves my room.
Five years until I can save enough money to pay for my master’s and work towards the career I’ve dreamt of. I grit my teeth. Maybe my mum was right and I should wait until Tabi is older and settled before I follow my dreams.
Everything in the reception area is glass with curved edges. I lean forwards on the turquoise sofa, which matches the knickers I gave to the hot guy in Greece, tapping my feet against the floor until another interviewee glares at me. Big circular lights resembling tyres highlight my pale, tired skin. I run my fingers over the bracelet I made with Tabi to replace the one I gave to my fake husband.
Another person is called into the office. He doesn’t look as uncomfortable as I feel. His tailored designer charcoal grey suit is perfect. I pull at the hem of my charity shop skirt.
I wish I were wearing my yoga pants and hoodie right now, but they don’t scream “top five racing team.”
Jimmy, the man with an iPad and a cheeky smile who signed me in, glances at me. I blush and check my phone before switching it to silent.
The well-dressed interviewee stomps out of the room, grumbling, “What the hell is wrong with him? He said hewanted all of us to apply for this role, but within two questions, he kicked me out.”
Jimmy shrugs. “You lasted longer than the one before you. He asked her to leave after she said he was her dream boss.”
I reach for my water glass, which nearly slips out of my shaking hand. I won’t get this job. The lift is five strides away. I could be in my car before anyone catches me.
“One second.” Jimmy sends in a statuesque brunette in, leaving me as the last candidate.
The door’s barely closed before Mr. Suit continues his rant. “I know everything about racing. Senna sat there with tight lips as he tossed me out after I asked him if he was excited about getting in a car again. He’s the reserve driver this season and might race. It was a valid question.”
I flick through a Coulter magazine while tilting my head as Jimmy lowers his voice. “One of yesterday’s interviewees insisted on shaking Niki’s hand, and she was kicked straight out. They won’t find whatever they want.”
The door opens, and the interviewee runs. A blond woman in a fitted dress leans out. Senna Coulter. She’s on the cover of the magazine I’m clasping increasingly tightly. Why is the head of the company interviewing for a general office assistant role?
I study her under my eyelashes as she snaps, “Jimmy, what have I told you about gossiping?”
I sink into my seat. I should go now. Right now.
Jimmy’s face creases. “Sorry, boss.”
“I need to pause the interviews for a while?—”
“But there’s only one left.” Jimmy nods in my direction.
Senna raises her eyebrows until Jimmy presses his lips together.
“I’ll interview her myself shortly. Please take…” She stares at me. She wants me to speak!
“Rosabella. Rosie for short,” I stutter.
“Could you take Rosie to our coffee shop downstairs and buy her whatever she wants? Bring her back in twenty minutes.”
“Yes, boss.”
She smiles at me, her hands wide. “Sorry about this, Rosie. I need to kick my brother’s arse.”
I raise my eyebrows and play with the chain under my blouse as Jimmy beckons me to the lift.
CHAPTER 9
Niki
Senna paces her office. “What’s wrong with you, Niki?”
She’s come a long way from our days karting together. Once, she was the woman to beat in Formula Three, and now, she’s the big boss of our family racing team. I couldn’t be prouder of her. I need to tell her that after years of her thinking I wasn’t.
