Chapter Four
In the morning, Ollivia wakes up experiencing a serious migraine. She holds her head, wincing in pain. "Aww," she moans.
Her ivory toned laps are revealed outside the sheets. She looks around only to find out she's in an expensive hotel room.
"Shit! What have I done?" Memories of yesterday night run through her mind. The man she was with yesterday isn't here with her now. 'Who was he?'
She observes her environment discovering the room is soo classy only a billionaire could afford. The room is so large one could mistake it for an entire house. The room is decorated with costly ornaments made of gold and silver.
Her heart skips, she doesn't know if it's from fear, excitement or surprise. Perhaps all.
"I need to get out of here." Her feet make contact with the pink slippers on the ground, like he made sure she doesn't feel the cold ground, arranging them carefully for her.
She doesn't know how to feel but she sure feels something. She heads to the bathroom, it's flawlessly white. Her eyes are ajar, mind confused. She takes her bath and rushes out after wearing the available clothes in the wardrobe.
Her mind goes to the only place she knows she can stay for the time being, Damon's house.
She can't go home, there's a lot of drama going on there. She has to provide without her family knowing what she does for a living.
Her boyfriend has apparently chased her out of that house, so her only trustworthy caring friend she can rely on is Damon.
Damon lets her in when she gets to his house. She fills him in on the details.
"Wow! I can't believe this," Damon says, seated next to Ollivia in his kitchen. "Jace did that to you? This is so much to take in. Ollie, what happened yesterday with the client? Everywhere was in a frenzy when you left later that night. There were even cops." Ollivia's busy drinking tea.
Olivia becomes curious and confused. Her heart races instantly. She remembers what happened yesterday in the VIP room. The horrible scene flashes through her mind and she doesn't want to recall. She can't tell Damon what she did to him.
"What do you think happened? I danced and satisfied him…" she flounders, acting clueless. "Why do you think the cops came?"
"I dunno but they had to chase everyone out, I swear there were rumours about a dead body."
Ollivia remained calm. Despite the nerve-wracking sentence, she continues to drink her tea like it's nothing. "We didn't kill anybody, so why bother?"
Damon exhales a breath. "We weren't allowed to see what was going on. They chased us out. There was an ambulance and all. Really hope nothing really dire happened." After some time, he asks, "So, how about the pay? Didn't he give you the watch?" He seems excited.
"Watch?" Ollie places the cup near her mouth. "Didn't who give me a watch? I don't know what you're talking—" she realizes mid sentence. She remembers taking it but does not remember where she kept it. Her mind is still fuzzy from yesterday's drinks so she waves it off. "Oh, that. It's a scam. I'll give you your cut, just give me some time."
"Pack up, I wanna go to work."
"I don't have a house."
"What am I supposed to do about that…?"
She continues to sip her tea. "I was hoping I could stay —"
"No!"
"Please, Damon…"
He stands up about storming out. "No. You know how my girlfriend is."
"I don't have any other place to stay."
He heads out the kitchen towards his room. He bangs the door, groaning aggressively. "Fine."
Ollivia smiles, knowing how her friend is. Her phone rings and there's a notification on it. She remembers today is a very important day.
She goes to the front of the mirror, gazing at her reflection. She sees a tired raven haired girl with slight freckles she usually covers with makeup. Her hair is all mussy but confidence in tact.
Today is the day she applies for a job at a company she's always dreamt of working at.
Still staring at her reflection she says, "You got this." She asks Damon, who's already angry at her for staying here, "Your girlfriend's got any clothes I could borrow!?" then giggles when she hears him groan again.
Ollivia now stands in front of the big building owned by the company. She's so neat, dressed in corporate clothes.
"I'm a tough girl and can do this." She breathes to herself, proceeding to walk in. The position she applied for requires her to be a direct advisor to the company's CEO on creative matters that can skyrocket the company. The position fortunately doesn't require her to go to college first.
She walks in, seeing a pleasing face. It is a woman in dreadlocks, fine brown toned skin, with neat clothes so neat it is as though dirt doesn't even exist. The brightest thing about her is her smile.
"Welcome," she greets. Olivia's eyes lower to her chestal region and on top this neat lady's navy blue suit is a name tag, written Nena. "You must be here for the interview. I recognize your face from the photograph you uploaded online."
She gives off a smart aura.
And somewhat low-key intimidating to Ollivia.
"Yes. My name is Edmond Ollivia."
"Okay, I want you to just fill up the form for me then go on and wait at the lounge, you'll be attended to." Her smile. Her smile just calms Olivia like 'there's nothing to be afraid of.'
Ollivia really wishes she passes so she can get to see this smile everyday. It's so warm.
"Thank you," Ollivia says to Nena, handing over the form to her, giving her back her pen. She proceeds to the lounge, directed by another worker in the office.
Olivia is stepping towards the lounge, and the atmosphere hits her like a cold slap.
The air is thick — not just with perfume or cologne, but with panic. People suddenly start rushing past her in stiff suits and fast heels, eyes darting like hunted animals. Phones are ringing, files are dropping, and not a single smile is in sight.
Olivia swallows hard and walks toward the lounge. The hallway is too quiet, like the calm before something dreadful. When she opens the door, the tension waiting inside wraps itself around her throat.
The room is full of young women like her — all dressed to impress, all silent… until she enters.
Where she goes to wait for her turn, she meets other people waiting there as well. She gifts a demure grin with her mouth closed in greeting but only few return pleasing faces.
"Have you heard about the CEO?" A girl gossips next to her. "I heard he's the devil."
Another low whisper breaks out like wildfire. "They say he fired someone for blinking too much."
"No, it was because her handshake was weak."
"I heard he's got cameras in the interview room. Watches everything before even speaking."
A girl near the corner leans in and says in a hushed voice, "Some say he's charming. Handsome. That's how he gets you. Then—bam! He destroys you."
Olivia raises a brow. "Is that true?"
Another girl, pale and shaking slightly, nods. "He smiled at my friend last week… then shredded her résumé in front of her. No one's heard from her since."
The walls seem to close in. Every breath feels heavier.
Everyone is seated. No one is relaxed.
And Olivia knows — this isn't just an interview. It's survival.
"Ollivia, it's your turn to be interviewed."