"You got this, girl. Walk in there like you own the company. Hold your head up high and rock it."

"Ugh. Okay. Okay. I can do this."

She stands at the vanity, getting ready for work, as I have a mini panic attack at her side. I can’t stop my hands from shaking, and I’ve changed shirts three times. Sweat marks aren’t cute, and I don’t want to make a bad impression my first day at work.

Aimee turns and places her hands on my shoulders. “Breathe.”

I do.

“Okay, good. You can do this, Reagan. Positive thoughts equal positive results.”

“Are you Gandhi now?” I laugh, and she does, too.

“I’m serious, babe. Don’t let your nerves get the best of you. You’re so smart.”

“I haven’t been in the corporate world. I’m not used to being around important people. What if I mess up? What if I break something or send out the wrong response to an email?”

“I know, babe. Everything will work out. And, if you need anything, I’m a text message away.”

“Aren’t you going to be in court today?” I ask.

She waves me off. “Yeah, but the judge loves me. Plus, I’m only assisting on this case.”

I let out a sigh. “Thanks, girl.”

“Anytime, my love.”

After I finish touching up my hair and makeup, I grab my purse and coffee mug. I’m still a nervous wreck. My stomach is in knots, and my hands are sweating so badly. If I drop my coffee, I'm going to take that as a sign it'll be a bad day. My usual tactics aren’t doing a thing for my current state. No amount of counting or deep breathing will eliminate the nervous energy I currently feel inside me.

I’m a hot mess.

The door attendant, Henry, opens the door for me and wishes me a good day. I smile and walk to the curb to wait for my Uber. I'm only waiting for a few minutes when the driver pulls over and I get in the car, letting her know the address of where I need to go.

My phone rings and I excuse myself, pulling out my phone, and seeing it's my mom.

“Hi honey. Isn't today your first day?” my mom asks.

"Yes. I feel so sick. I have no idea why I'm so nervous. I mean, ugh, this is what I've been waiting for."

“You are going to be great, sweetheart. This woman hired you because she believes you are right for the job. She is a successful, savvy businesswoman who knows how to flawlessly run a multibillion-dollar corporation. Hiring you was an easy choice because you are equally smart and savvy yourself. You’ve got this.”

“You’re biased,” I tell her.

But her pep talk does give me a little boost of confidence.

“Biased yet truthful. You are resilient, Reagan. A strong, independent woman who I am very proud to call my daughter.”

If only she knew how weak I truly was.

“You go in there with your head held high, and knock her socks off.”

My mother is and always will be my biggest cheerleader. That in itself makes it that much harder to hide the truth from her day after day. Only I can’t lay that burden on her. She’d somehow twist things around and blame herself. That is something I will never let happen. That night and the events that took place are on my shoulders alone. Now, looking back, I know all the signs were there. I was just too dense and blind to see them for what they were.

“I need to get out of my head,” I reply, doing my best to shake off that night. “I had this crazy dream that I arrived on my first day to find I knew absolutely nothing about what I should, and each time I made an attempt at any task, I screwed it up. Not just screwed it up, but completely tanked. And I didn’t make it through to lunch before Mrs. Powers took me in her office and proceeded to tell me that hiring me was the worst mistake she’d made.”

“Now, you are just being dramatic,” my mother says with a laugh. “Yes, this is a new experience, and this job will take time for you to get the hang of. All new jobs are that way. But you, my sweet daughter, have nothing to worry about.”

* * *

I stand outside the front entrance of Powers Financial. My head tilts back as I take in the expanding structure of the large building before me. The glass building looks pristine and powerful. It’s not just any building, but one of exquisite beauty. It stands out from the others on the busy streets of Chicago. The sleek contours and the mirrored appearance of the outer perimeter make it look dominant over the neighboring buildings.

Even those who have exited and entered the office space seem to give off that same powerful vibe.

I look down at my Cartier watch and nearly launch forward in a sprint. All of my hesitation and admiration of the building now leaves me with only a few minutes to spare. I hate being late. It’s rude and unprofessional. Those are two things I don’t want to appear to be in front of Miranda Powers. I hurriedly approach the doors and rush inside, stumbling a bit over the threshold as my gaze wanders.

The outside has nothing on the absolute beauty of the inside. The marble floors are so clean and shiny, you can see your reflection in them, and the same sleek feel of the outside expands in through the doors to the inside. It’s breathtaking.

Smoothing my skirt with my hands, I do my best to give off the same confident feel I’m surrounded with. Stern looks on the faces of those who move around with purpose have me standing a little taller as I move forward.

The elevator door opens, and I follow the group of people inside and notice someone's going on the same floor as I am so I wait in the back and watch the numbers on the screen. Once I get off on the top floor, I walk to the reception desk and ask for Miranda Powers.

“Good morning,” the perky brunette with pearly white teeth says. “Do you have an appointment with Mrs. Powers?”

“Today’s my first day. My name’s Reagan Halloway.”

“Oh! Reagan. Yes.” She looks on her computer screen and types on the keyboard before looking back at me. “I just pinged her, so she’ll be here soon. I love your outfit. Very chic and stylish. You and Mrs. Powers are going get along super well. She’s all about the fashion.”

“Thank you. I’m a little nervous.”

“Couldn’t even tell.”

“Thanks,” I say again. “Should I wait over there?” I point toward the seating area.

“Yeah, go ahead. She’s going to be a few minutes.”

"Thank you." I turn around and notice the beautiful abstract pieces lining across the wall. Each painting is perfectly aligned and the contemporary concept fits the appearance of the business. My phone vibrates in my purse and I reach to get it, not paying attention or hear anyone walking in my direction, when I turn around and slam into a hard wall. I try to rebalance myself and grab onto anything so I don't fall on my ass. Only I don’t grab the wall. Instead, my hands are gripping strong arms. Very strong and sexy arms. I slowly peel my face from his chest and study his upper body up to his chiseled jaw and piercing blue-gray eyes. The tailored suit fits him perfectly well, showing off his toned body and broad shoulders.

Sweet baby Jesus.

“What the—” he starts to say as I scramble to bring myself upright.

“I’m so sorry,” I say in a hurried tone.

“You need to watch where you’re going,” the man says in a gruff tone. “What the hell is the rush for anyway?”

I’m about to give this arrogant asshole a piece of my mind when I stop. His attention isn’t on me anymore. He’s on his phone. Texting.

So rude.

“I don’t have time for this,” he tells me without looking up from his phone. “Watch where you’re going next time.”

Before I’m able to say something back, he rushes off, and I turn to see him walking away.

The receptionist looks at me and then turns to him, only to turn to me again. “Whoa.”

I roll my eyes.

He’s obviously someone with money, from his attitude and his custom tailored three-piece suit, which makes me wonder who the important man that I just pissed off was.