The next day, I didn't wait for my alarm clock to ring before jolting out of bed. Sandra was already up, making a breakfast of pancakes. I hurried dressing up and stood in the mirror, trying to see if I had lost any weight from last night's jogging.

"Goodmorning," I greeted Sandra as I picked out a few pancakes from the tray. No matter how excited I was about the job, it could not stop me from going out without eating.

"Good luck. I pray you get the job." Sandra said cheerfully as she watched me walk out the door as soon as I was done eating.

I clutched my leather bag that was hung over my shoulder. The 8am morning breeze was chilly, making me shiver a little as I walked to the bus stop. In less than 30 minutes, I arrived at Vixen Couture. The environment was even more magnificent than I had seen on their website.

It was a white tall building with glass windows and doors that reflected bright light. From the entrance, red flowers were planted, and a tree was trimmed in a shape that resembled a heart. I showed the security guard my invite and he allowed me inside. Inside was a wide stretch of space. There were green shrubs which were carved to give the word 'V-I-X-E-N-C-O-U-T-U-R-E'.

I couldn't help but stare. It was a modelling company and their environment looked like it could model as well.

I followed the directions given to me by the secretary. I was a bit shocked that she wasn't rude like the one at my father's office. From the experience I had with that bitch, I was forced to believe that all secretaries were rude.

"You're number 50 for the interview."

"Alright. Thank you." I responded, taking the number tag which she offered me. After hearing my number, I began to wonder if it would be possible to secure the job when lots of people were applying. From what the girl seated by my side told me, there were sixty people who applied for the position.

Then, I saw a man from afar, stepping out of the car. He looked like the man that helped me last night. The only difference was that he wore a suit and dark sunglasses as well. Could he be working as a model? If he was, I wouldn't be surprised because his features were perfect.

"Number 50, please come inside."

"Yes ma'am." I responded and headed into the room where the interview was conducted.

"Ruby Philips?" The woman asked, lifting her gaze from the paper in her hand and focusing on me.

"I'm the one."

"You may have a seat."

I sat down, watching her flip through papers, and wondering what questions she had for me.

"We plan to employ just five cleaners, and I'm not sure if you'd make it."

I swallowed hard, this was the statement I dreaded the most.

"We have picked four people already, and I have to interview numbers 51 to 60, before I can make a final decision."

"Ma'am, I assure you I'm the best for this job,"

She smiled briefly at me and was about to say something before the phone rang and she picked it.

I couldn't hear what the other person was saying, but I heard her say 'okay sir' repeatedly.

"You wouldn't be given the cleaning job anymore."

I took a deep breath, feeling all my hopes shattered. How exactly would I help Sandra around the house without a job? Hunting for another job wouldn't be easy.

"A man called, saying that he knows you, and I should give you a better offer."

My face lit up in an instant as I was taken aback by her statement.

"Does anyone here know me?" I questioned, because I didn't know anyone except Sandra and my family.

Roselyn nodded her head. I had read the name on her desk, and even though she didn't tell me her name, I knew it.

"I would fill you in for the position of a receptionist instead. It also has better pay."

My jaw slacked a bit as I processed Roselyn's words.

"Would you accept the offer or..."

"I accept it." I said, cutting her short without noticing. I felt like if I delayed a bit, the offer would be taken back.

"Okay. I would just fill your file so you can begin work soon,"

I tried hard to resist the urge to shout and throw both hands in the air. While she was still writing on the paper, a thought came into my mind. I didn't know who this person was.

"Do you mind if I know who the friend is? I mean the person who said he knew me."

She handed over the file to me. "It contains everything you need."

I nodded my head and thanked her, still expecting a reply to my question.

"The Mr. chooses to be anonymous. You know how philanthropists are. Just don't bother about him. Your job is secured."

After I filled in the day I would resume, which is in two days, I left her office with my file in my hand.

I came across the man who wore the dark sunglasses earlier. He was walking in the opposite direction. His sunglasses were off and I could see those emerald eyes. He was the same man who scared the rogues away.

He passed me without uttering a single word. A thought crossed my mind and I wondered if he was the one who told the interviewer that he knew me. I brushed the thought away, he couldn't possibly be the one. After all, he didn't know me.

First day of the job

My alarm hadn't rung yet when my eyes snapped open. My heart raced like I'd been running in my sleep. My stomach fluttered with nervous sensations. I sat up in bed, hugging my pillow against me and whispered to myself, 'Today is the day. Don't mess it up, Ruby.'

Sandra was still snoring softly on the couch, her night shift uniform tossed carelessly over a chair. She worked herself hard, yet she always smiled. I wished I had that kind of strength. Instead, I was trembling just thinking about answering phones. Phones! How pathetic.

"Goodmorning." Sandra muttered as she lifted herself from the couch. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

After showering, I forced myself to the mirror. The blouse I had ironed three times last night looked fine until I put it on. The pale blue fabric clung in all the wrong places. My belly pressed against the buttons, daring to pop them open. My thighs looked like they could break out of the skirt.

"You'll embarrass yourself before you even get there." Joey sneered in my head. My wolf's voice dripped with disgust. "If only you had Sandra's slim waist or your sister's slim figure, maybe you'd be different."

I clenched my fists against the vanity table. "Shut up!"

Sandra was in the kitchen making coffee and toast. "You look nervous." She teased, sliding a mug towards me.

"Nervous?" I laughed weakly. "I'm about to faint."

"Just breathe Ruby, you'd do fine. And who knows, maybe you'll meet one of those hotshot bosses today." Sandra said with a smirk.

I didn't tell her my mind had already replayed the stranger with emerald eyes a hundred times last night.

After forcing two bites of toast down my throat and nearly choking on it, I thanked her and slung my bag over my shoulder. The city seemed brighter than usual. The morning breeze was cool, but not enough to stop the sweat gathering at the back of my neck.

Vixen Couture looked even more intimidating than the last time. The glass doors reflected my anxious face back at me, a constant reminder that I didn't belong.

Roselyn was waiting at the front desk, as poised as ever in a navy blue blazer. She gave me a quick scan, then nodded approvingly. "Right on time, Ruby. Good."

"Goodmorning." I managed to say, trying hard to keep my voice steady.

"Let's get you settled." She said, leading me behind the reception counter. "This would be your station. Phones, appointment schedules, basic enquiries from clients and models, this desk handles all of it."

I nodded nervously, trying to absorb every word.

Roselyn placed a neatly typed manual in front of me. "Here is your weekly schedule. Get familiar with it. Calls should always be answered on time. Greet with: Welcome to Vixen Couture, how may I assist you? Nothing more, nothing less."

My throat went dry. "Yes ma'am."

"You'll also be responsible for signing visitors. Maintain discretion at all times, and make sure the lobby stays presentable. That means noticing everything, who comes in, who lingers too long, who doesn't belong." Her eyes narrowed slightly as if warning me. "This company runs on reputation. One mistake at the front desk could cost us dearly."

"Noted ma'am."

Roselyn handed me a slim electronic tablet. "Your login information is inside. Do not lose it."

I clutched it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"Now, if you have any questions, just ask me. I'll be nearby. Remember, you're here to represent Vixen Couture."

I nodded again, my heart pounding with something that felt like excitement. Represent Vixen Couture. Me? Ruby Philips. The girl whose mother had thrown her out, now sitting at the front desk of one of the glamorous companies in the city.

Before I could gather myself, the glass door slid open, and he walked in. The emerald eyed man who saved me from the rogues.

He wore a tailored grey suit that seemed designed for his body alone, too exquisite to be found in regular stores. Staff glanced up from their conversations. Whoever he was, everyone here knew him. Everyone except me.

I took a deep breath and forced my eyes down to the tablet Roselyn had given me. My hands trembled as I pretended to study the screen. I couldn't afford to be caught gawking.

"Mr. Smith." Roselyn greeted, in a voice that sounded softer than the one she used in addressing me. "Welcome."

Smith. So that was his name.

He gave her a faint nod before walking past. He didn't stop at the desk, didn't look at anyone, not even me.

My gaze lingered in his direction and I followed his steps.

Roselyn's eyes flicked to me. "Focus, Ruby."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "Yes ma'am."

For the next hour, she drilled me on the desk routine, how to welcome visitors, how to answer calls, and how to check appointments. My mind fumbled like a clumsy child's and I repeated her instructions until my throat was dry.

The first call came in at 9:15. My fingers hovered nervously over the screen, before I finally swiped to answer.

"Uh- Vixen Couture, how...how can I help you?"

Roselyn tapped against the desk. "Try again." She whispered.

I cleared my throat gently. "Welcome to Vixen Couture, how may I assist you?" My voice was steadier this time.

"Much better." Roselyn applauded.

By mid morning, my nerves were frayed. At least I hadn't dropped the tablet and I hadn't called anyone by the wrong name yet. That felt like victory.

At 11:00, two models swept in, both tall with perfume trailing along with them. One of them whipped her hair to the side and gave me a look from head to toe, the kind that stripped me bare.

"Welcome ma." I managed to say.

"New receptionist?" She asked Roselyn, ignoring me entirely.

"Yes." Roselyn answered.

The model smirked. "She doesn't look like she belongs."

I gave her a hard glare as she walked away. Roselyn didn't defend me. She didn't scold them. She simply returned to her paperwork. Maybe that was a test, seeing if I could survive here.

The clock crawled towards noon. My stomach growled, begging for lunch.

Then, he returned. "Roselyn. I want to see you at my office."