Chapter 3— The Results
Isabelle Reinhart.
I tripped on my own shoelace, almost falling down the stairs and dying What a great start.
Determined to find something delicious to eat, I tied my hair up in a bun and hopped onto the kitchen island. My eyes scanned the kitchen because I was looking for two things. One: something sinfully tasty to eat; two: a Fairy Godmother who would make me something sinfully tasty to eat.
I found neither.
Sighing, I climbed down from the kitchen island and opened the fridge, hoping to find some milk. Thankfully, luck was on my side as I discovered a carton of milk inside. Cereal is, I thought, my excitement level at an all-time low. Cereal may not have been the most thrilling breakfast, but it would have to do.
Leaving the kitchen behind, I flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV to pass the time. I was scheduled to visit my papa at 3pm today, and I eagerly awaited the passing of each minute so that I could finally go to the hospital and have a conversation with him.
Just two days ago, papa had suffered another cardiac arrest, right before my interview with Mr. Rhodes. The hospital staff insisted that he required medical assistance and would need to stay in the hospital for a few weeks. It was hard to fathom being separated from him for so long. How did they expect me to live without him? They explained that, given it was his third cardiac arrest, his heart had become increasingly sensitive and required close monitoring. I reluctantly agreed to their decision, all while hoping and praying that papa would be fine and that he would be with me for many more years to come.
Relaxing on the couch, I found comfort in the familiar TV show, 'Brooklyn Nine-Nine,' which started playing. Before I knew it, exhaustion took over and I dozed off, oblivious to the world around me.
*****
I opened the door to papa's room and found him lying down, engrossed in reading a Vogue magazine. Seriously? I couldn't help but shake my head in amusement as he set the magazine aside upon spotting me.
"Hey, sweetie," papa greeted me with a warm smile.
"Hi, papa. What's up?" I responded, placing a bowl of soup on the nightstand and casually tossing my bag on the floor before taking a seat on his bed.
"My blood pressure," he quipped, bursting into laughter as if I had just told him that I breathed water.
"That was horrible. Try another one," I playfully teased, smiling and shaking my head as I retrieved a spoon from the soup bowl.
"The least you could've done is laugh at your sick old man's joke," papa pouted, taking the spoon from my hand and indulging in a spoonful of soup.
"Did they give you the afternoon dose of medicines yet?" I inquired, flipping through the pages of the magazine.
"Yeah, they give me those damn medicines all the time," papa replied, rolling his eyes and savoring another spoonful of soup.
"Good for you," I chimed, unable to hide my amusement.
Eight years ago, papa was diagnosed with paraplegia after a car accident that claimed my mother's life. Thankfully, I wasn't in the car that day. Since then, he had been unable to walk, but we had managed to navigate life together, making the most of what we had. Papa had to leave his job, but his savings provided us with a few years of stability. I obtained a scholarship and worked part-time at various cafes to contribute to our expenses. Despite the challenges, we had managed to hold our own.
However, as time went on, it became increasingly evident that our savings wouldn't last forever. I realized the importance of finding a well-paying job to secure our future. So here I was, playing the role of the responsible and devoted daughter.
*****
Emerging from the bathroom, I heard my phone ringing, my heart racing with anticipation. Could it be? Could it be the news I had been anxiously waiting for? The results of my interview had yet to be announced, and the uncertainty was driving me crazy.
Glancing at my phone, I noticed an unfamiliar landline number displayed on the screen. Though I couldn't help but speculate on the caller's identity, I took a deep breath and answered the call with a clear throat.
"Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Miss Isabelle Reinhart?" a high-pitched female voice inquired from the other end.
"Yes, this is Isabelle Reinhart speaking," I responded, adopting my most professional tone.
"I'm calling from Flawless Inbounds. I'm pleased to inform you that you have been offered the secretary job. We expect you to be here tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp. Congratulations, Miss Reinhart. Have a good day," the voice continued, and before I could utter a word, the call ended abruptly.
Overjoyed, I couldn't contain my excitement. I danced around my room in my bathrobe, relishing the thought of finally landing a suitable and well-paying job. It was a chance to live the life of luxury I had always dreamed of.
Settling onto my bed, I smiled and pondered the new job that awaited me. My mind buzzed with thoughts of the people I would meet and work with, the experiences that lay ahead, and the opportunities for personal and professional growth that awaited me in this exciting new chapter of my life. All the people I would meet…