Chapter 47 – Amelia
“You’re a badass.” I keep replaying Brent’s words over and over in my head as I walk down the hall toward Styles’ office. I try not to clutch my application folder too tightly, since my hands are sweating and leaving wet handprints on the thing wouldn’t be considered particularly professional.
Deep breath, I remind myself, stopping just outside the door. You can do this. I raise my hand to knock. The door opens, and I hear: “-looking forward to your decision.”
I know the voice before I see him. Jason. He sees me standing there, and fixes his smug look on me before adding, “I’m sure it will be an easy choice.”
Jason walks past me and down the hall without another word or glance. All the energy has somehow been knocked out of me. The door in front of me is still ajar, but I don’t move forward. I’m frozen, and I hate the feeling.
“Ms. Hope?” I hear Mr. Styles’ voice from beyond the door. “Ms. Hope. I thought that was you. Please, come in.”
Shaking my head, trying desperately to get rid of the jangling fear and nerves that are suddenly rattling all throughout me, I step through his door.
Behind his desk, Styles regards me with a measured gaze. “What can I do for you?”
I imagine myself saying “Nothing, I’m so sorry”, and retreating down the hall. That’s what a big part of me wants to do. But then I hear Brent’s kind, comforting voice in my head: “Who cares what they think, Amil? You can do anything.”
I close the door behind me, smile at him, and say, “Mr. Styles. I’m here to turn in my application for the Junior Partner position.” I try not to let the anxiety I’m feeling show on my face as I stand there.
Styles extends his hand, and I realize he wants my file. I hand it to him, focusing on controlling my breathing.
“Thank you, Ms.Hope. Playing a bit close to the final deadline, aren’t we?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I thought it was the end of the day today?”
“It is. Better to be close to the deadline and better prepared, though, hmm?”
I nod furiously, agreeing with him. “Yes sir. Thank you.”
I turn to go. “Ms. Hope.”
“Yes, Mr. Styles?”
“I’m very glad to see this application on my desk.”
I keep my expression neutral until I get back into the hallway, with the office door closed behind me. Then, I burst into a smile so big that my face hurts.
Back in my office, my first thought is, I have to call Brent! It almost surprises me - but why should it? His encouragement really helped me get up the guts to apply…it only makes sense that I want to let him know now that something has gone well.
I pull out my phone and tap Brent’s number, waiting anxiously as it rings.
“Hey, you.” Brent answers, sounding relaxed as usual. “What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“I am!” I laugh, remembering our conversation about skipping out. “I just, I have something I want to tell you, that’s all! And it couldn’t wait.”
“In that case, spill!” He actually sounds excited to hear from me. I know it’s because of the way Jason treated me that I’m not used to hearing that kind of tone in a guy’s voice, but I decide that right now isn’t the time to wallow in that particular pit of misery and annoyance.
“Amil? You fall asleep over there?”
“Sorry, sorry! Just got distracted. But you remember that junior partner position I told you about over the weekend?”
“That’s not the only thing I remember from this weekend, but yes.” I can practically see his teasing grin, even over the phone.
“Stop that.” My voice is jokingly stern. “This is serious.”
“Okay, sure. Yes, I remember.” Brent’s voice settles, and I can tell he’s really listening to me now.
“The application window closes today…and I applied!” I burst out.
“That’s amazing! I told you it was a great idea!” Brent sounds almost as excited as I feel. “You know what this means, right?”
“No….what?” I ask, playing along.
“We have to celebrate, that’s what!” Brent says. “Come over tonight. I’ll cook for you.”
“Wait a minute, you can cook?”
“Ha ha, very funny. Just for that, you don’t get any of my world-famous ramen recipe.”
“Oh no, I love ramen!”
“I think everyone who was ever a college student does.” Brent agrees. “I’m serious, though. Come over tonight, I’ll cook, which honestly I don’t do often at all, but I want to do it for you. And we can celebrate. Unless you don’t want to?”
The question makes me realize that we’ve never actually spent time alone together outside of our ‘fake’ wedding events - and that I really, really want to. “Don’t be silly! Of course I’d love to celebrate with you. I’ll even bring a bottle of wine.”
“Great.” he says, the smile and relief plain in his voice. “Say eight?”
“Sounds perfect. See you then.”
I hang up, and if it’s possible, I’m somehow even more giddy now than I was leaving Styles’ office.