Chapter 2— The Interview

Ace Rhodes.

I collected the scattered documents that had slipped onto the floor, my fingers sifting through the drawer in pursuit of the essential file. In the midst of my concentration, a knock at the door disrupted my focus.

"Enter," I responded absentmindedly, my gaze still affixed to the drawer's contents.

"Excuse me, Mr. Rhodes, but the candidates have been awaiting your attention for nearly half an hour. Should we proceed with the interviews?" Gwen, Alex's secretary, informed me with a composed and professional tone.

Leaning back in my chair, hands interlaced behind my head, I emitted a sigh. "Well, what options do I have now? Send them in, Miss Drew."

"Alright, Mr. Rhodes," Gwen responded, her tone unwavering, before exiting the office.

Couldn’t I just steal Gwen?

Gwen had been Alex's secretary for almost two years now, and she had managed to strike a balance between professionalism and handling Alex's erratic nature. While the company policy explicitly prohibited relationships among employees, I suspected that Alex hadn't paid much attention to that rule, considering his reputation of engaging with multiple female colleagues.

"May I come in, sir?" a timid male voice sounded from the other side of the door after a knock.

"Yes, come inside," I half-shouted, still preoccupied with locating the necessary documents on my desk. The door opened, revealing a man in his early forties, clutching a file in his hand.

Too young for a secretary job, aren't we?

"Please take a seat, Mr...?" I began, searching for his documents on my desk, only to be interrupted.

"Arthur. Chad Arthur," he answered in a quiet voice, settling into the seat opposite me.

Here goes nothing.

*****

After conducting interviews for nearly an hour, I was relieved to know that the woman who had just left my office was the final candidate. However, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment that none of them had impressed me enough to be considered as my secretary.

I was convinced that the women who came for the interview were either here to seduce me with their 'dresses' or rape me with their eyes. I mean, who the hell wears a goddamn mini skirt for professional interviews. The men… oh, don't even get me started on that.

They were utterly useless.

I had wasted a precious hour and a half on an utterly fruitless task. Frustrated, I contemplated seeking help from Alex when my office door swung open abruptly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm late." My office door burst open and a woman holding a file of papers tumbled inside.

"Whoa, easy there, Princess." The words slipped out of my mouth instinctively, and I inwardly cursed my lack of filter.

Damnit.

She appeared as though she had sprinted a marathon, her hair—likely intended for a neat bun—splayed in disarray. And yet, the disheveled appearance wasn't unflattering. Quite the opposite. Despite her evident agitation, she maintained a semblance of put-togetherness, with a peach-hued blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt.

I did not just compliment her.

Gwen hurried in after the woman, clearly attempting to rectify the situation. Observing their interaction, I could sense the frustration radiating from Gwen.

"I apologize, Mr. Rhodes. I informed her that the interview time had ended, but instead of leaving, she insisted on running to your office. I sincerely apologize," Gwen explained, moving closer to the flustered woman, presumably attempting to escort her out of my office.

"It's alright, Gwen. I'll handle it. You may go," I instructed Gwen, who glanced at me with a look I couldn't quite decipher.

"Alright, Mr. Rhodes," Gwen huffed and exited my office, leaving me alone with the woman who had interrupted the proceedings.

"So...?" I began, my tone skeptical as I searched for her file on my desk.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'm Isabelle Reinhart. Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Rhodes," she introduced herself, stepping closer to my desk.

"You're welcome, Miss Reinhart. Please take a seat so we can start the interview."

"Of course, thank you," she replied, settling into the seat opposite me as I continued my search for her file.

"So, Miss Reinhart, why were you late?" I inquired, finally locating her documents and college degrees.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Mr. Rhodes. I encountered an urgent matter concerning my father's health. Rest assured, it won't happen again," she explained, her tone sincere.

"Very well, then. Do you possess any prior work experience, Miss Reinhart?"

"Um, I'm afraid I don't. However, I did work at McDonald's for a year," she responded, flashing a sheepish smile, and I resisted the urge to smile in return.

"Why do you want this job?"

She held my gaze for a moment longer than necessary, as if deliberating whether or not to disclose something. Eventually, she seemed to make a decision, giving me an expression that screamed, 'Oh, screw it.'

"I'm broke," she stated bluntly, her words clear and bold. I couldn't help but smile at her humor.

She was refreshingly honest.

In response, she shrugged, offering a cute smile that caused me to relax in my seat, loosening my tie ever so slightly.

"Well, that was straightforward," I cleared my throat, regaining my composure.

"At least I was honest," she shrugged again, her nonchalant demeanor endearing.

I proceeded to ask her a few more questions, and she answered each one with poise and professionalism. Despite her young age of twenty-two, her maturity far surpassed her years. Visually, however, she appeared much younger, perhaps closer to eighteen.

I was impressed to learn that she had completed her entire college education on a scholarship, excelling as a straight-A student.

"Alright, Miss Reinhart, that concludes your interview. You will be notified of the results by tomorrow evening," I stated in a firm tone, turning my laptop back on to attend to the pending work, attempting to compensate for the lost time.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Rhodes. I hope I exceeded your expectations. Have a good day," she smiled, preparing to leave my office.

"Likewise, Miss Reinhart."

There was something about her smile, something indescribable that lingered in my mind.

Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.