Holding the ice to my forehead, I look at Kiara. She’s around my age, very attractive, her platinum blonde hair and big blue eyes reminding me of Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde.
She taps her hot pink nails on the phone. “Ah, thank you. I’ll let her know,” she sets the phone down.
“All set. Why don’t you use the lady’s, get yourself together, and then you can go on up to the tenth floor?” She reaches into the mini fridge behind the reception desk and hands me a bottle of water.
“Thank you so much, Kiara, this hasn’t been my morning, but I am so grateful for your help.” I stand slowly.
“Oh, don’t mention it, sweetheart. I’d keep that pack on a bit longer. The bathrooms are around the corner.” she tells me.
Offering her a grateful smile, I make my way in the direction she indicated, feeling like such a fool. I have never been so clumsy. How am I going to face the interview panel in this state?
Maybe this is a bad omen, a sign that I shouldn’t do this. My parents always told me that I’d never make it out in the world alone, that a Hernandez has to stay true to family and tradition. My father’s warnings that I’d make a fool of myself, echo in my mind.
When I get to the bathroom, I splash some water on my face and dry my face off with the paper towels. I let my hair out of the twist then run a brush through it, using my long bangs to try to cover the glaring, red irritation on my forehead with some of the layers. In a few hours, the knot on my forehead will be a purple bruise, but thankfully the ice will ensure it doesn’t swell too much. I hold onto the basin and bow my head, catching my breath.
When I finally enter the interview room, Catherine Cole sits at the head of a large boardroom table, another woman sitting to her right. They both stand when I enter, and Catherine meets me halfway, extending a hand.
“Welcome, Eliana. I heard you had a bit of an accident downstairs. I hope you’re all right?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, Mrs. Cole. Just a bit of nerves, I think.” I smile, hopefully sounding more confident than I feel. This woman is every bit the professional I thought she’d be, commanding attention and respect. Her warm brown eyes consider me, and her smile is sincere. Her hair is in a twist at the back of her head, and she’s at least an inch taller than me.
“Catherine will do. And boy, do I know what that feels like. Please, come have a seat,” she motions to a seat opposite the other woman.
“I’m Petra Bailey. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eliana,” the tall blonde woman extends her hand, a tight smile on her face. Her handshake is firm, almost intimidating.
“The pleasure is mine, Ms. Bailey,” I reply as we both take our seats.
Catherine pours me a glass of water, pushing it to me.
“Thank you, Catherine.” I say, feeling awkward calling a woman of her stature by her first name.
“So, firstly, we’d like you to be comfortable. This is not an interrogation, it’s a pitch.” Catherine’s words make me feel more at ease. Looking toward Petra, she continues, “Petra is looking for an assistant, a young woman with drive and authenticity.”
“My client is a handful, so I need someone who is great with people yet also professional and focused.” Petra adds.
“We want to hear what you have to say, so you can proceed whenever you’re ready.” Catherine tells me.
“I’m ready to proceed,” I nod, standing and removing my USB drive from my handbag. I insert it into the laptop that is already plugged in and breathe a sigh, letting all my nervous energy subside.
I spent the next half hour pitching like my life depends on it. Catherine seems impressed, but Petra on the other hand is rather aloof. The fact that this position reports to her makes me feel absolutely despondent.
“You’re located a good three hours away. Would you be willing to relocate if necessary?” Catherine asks.
“Of course,” I answer.
“Your father is Diego Hernandez, right?” Petra asks. I have no idea why she asks this or where her question is going, but I don’t have to wonder long. “He’s been in the media a lot, speaking about you taking over his business when he retires.”
“My father is a long way from retirement, and my family is aware that I have no interest in the business,” I answer simply.
A small smile plays on Catherine’s lips.
Petra nods, paging through my resume. “This would be your first permanent job? But you do come highly recommended by Compass Consulting in San Diego. We’ve done some work with them over the years. Their CEO is a very good friend of mine.”
“Correct. I interned at Compass until I graduated a few months ago. I’ve been following CJJ, and Mrs. Cole for years, though. Public relations is something I’ve always seen myself doing.”
“It’s no walk in the park.” Catherine says, not unkindly.
“With all due respect, Catherine, I have grown up surrounded by the people you represent. I think I’ve picked up a thing or two.”
