kept perfectly, clean and prim and proper. I gazed up at it in shock, leaning forward so I could see the top of the building, the solar-paneled rooftop and the picturesque, darkening sky above it.
To think all it took to get here was one night... I stopped thinking, again telling my mind to shut up, leaning back in my seat.
I looked in the rearview mirror for one final check of my makeup and touched up my lipstick. No matter the reason, I had been given a chance, although I knew it was likely because of the intimate moment I shared with Chase. But I had to make the most of the opportunity, right now.
I stared at the card again, clutching it in my fist along with my portfolio and bag before stepping out of my car, heels echoing on the clean, smooth pavement. Two large double doors loomed in the distance, lit up from within. With each step I rehearsed what I wanted to say to my new mentor. I want this , I said, as I willed myself forward. I want this, I want this, I want this . I ran through my history, my credentials. This was the moment I had prepared for all these years in college.
I reached the doors, closing my eyes as I rang the doorbell. I had repeated my elevator pitch a million times in my head, and now it was time to see if I could actually deliver it. My only job tonight was to convince my new mentor that I deserved this position.
My eyes opened as I heard the door swing inward. A short, young-looking, attractive man in an expensive-looking suit answered the door. I took in his features quickly. Short brown hair meticulously combed and in place. Steely blue-grey eyes and a bright smile that exuded friendliness. Lips pulled back in a smile as he welcomed me to his home.
I smiled back, immediately thinking about how lucky—not to mention intelligent—he must have been in order to be able to afford such an estate at what I thought was a young age.
“Miss Farris.” He extended his arm, stepping aside to let me in. “Do come in. I’m Jake Widler.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Widler.” I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my body as I realized my interview had just begun. I hoped that Jake Widler would really be as kind as he appeared as I slipped passed him, waiting in the enormous foyer for his next move.
The room was bigger and taller than the auditorium where the business class was held. Deep, rich mahogany wood paneling covered the walls, elegantly lit by the gigantic chandelier that hung in the center of the room. Everything I saw was breathtaking, and it was obvious that no expense had been spared for the décor of the home.
“You can call me Jake,” he said with a slight nod of his head. “If you’ll just follow the hallway to the living room you’ll get started in just a few minutes. Is there anything you’d like to drink? I can get that for you while you’re waiting.”
I kindly declined his offer and made my way down the long hallway, which opened to a large living area. The room was covered in exquisite stone and dark woods, and an enormous fireplace sprawled toward the two-story ceiling was built into one of the walls. The burning fire provided a warm glow throughout the room and I made my way to one of the large couches and took a seat, waiting for Jake to return.
Paintings adorned the walls throughout the room. I recognized a few of the artists from my art history class I had taken a few semesters ago. All of those paintings had hung in museums, protected by security and alarms—not hanging in the elaborate living room of a mansion.
I noticed that there weren’t any personal pictures of Jake in the room at all. The room was impersonal like the exterior of the house, but still incredibly beautiful. It looked like something from one of the fancy home magazines decorated for tours. I could hear a faint conversation from the adjoining room, but I couldn’t make out what was being said or who Jake was speaking with.
A moment later I heard his footsteps as he
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