Bonds

Chapter 16

-Maya’s POV-

I sat on the plush chair, hating how distracted I felt knowing that Natalia must have put in a lot to get me this interview. My father’s words echoed in my head, each syllable tumbling through my mind. He’d shoved the papers at me, anger burning in his eyes, and demanded I sign them. My mother followed him out, a silent apology in her eyes that did nothing to soothe the storm raging inside me.

“Amaya Stone? Is Amaya Stone here?”

The voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I jumped to my feet, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. The other candidates watched me, probably judging me for not being focused.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I mumbled, shoving the stray hair from my face.

The woman who called my name gave me a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She looked about my age, but carried herself with a confidence I envied. Her tailored black suit hugged her curves perfectly, her dark hair sleek and polished.

“No worries,” she said kindly, her voice like honey. “Nerves got the best of everyone sometimes. Follow me, Ms. Stone.”

I opened my mouth to correct her- it was Mrs. Stone technically, and McCall anyway – but the words wouldn’t come out. We stopped in front of a heavy wooden door with a brass nameplate that read “Ms. Edwards.” My guide took a deep breath, smoothing her already flawless outfit.

“Just a heads up,” she murmured, her voice losing a bit of its earlier cheer. “Ms. Edwards can be a bit… direct. But she’s fair, and she appreciates

honesty.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Direct?” 1 echoed, already picturing a stern woman in a power suit grilling me like a criminal.

She offered a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

The woman gave the door a gentle knock,

its usual

in her late fifties, with silver streaked hair pulled back in a tight

“Thank you.

said, her voice a low tone that commanded attention. “Please, close the

in my stomach tightened, and the questions about my father swirled around my mind but I knew for now, I had to focus on this interview. I took a deep

smile.

I said, extending a hand. “It’s

my hand for a beat before reaching out and giving it a firm, no-nonsense

said, her gaze

an interview anymore. It felt like a test, an

as Ms. Edwards flipped through my portfolio. “Interesting,” she finally said, “Bold use of color,

8421

Chapter 16

push

translates to happy clients? Not everyone wants the unexpected

blank. All the practiced answers, the slick comebacks I’d prepared- vanished, “Well,

a rhythm against the desk. “Interior design isn’t just about expressing yourself, Ms. Stone,” she began, a hint

echoed in my head, “Because they took everything from me.” Taking a deep. breath, I sat up straighter. “You’re absolutely right, Ms. Edwards,” I said, my voice surprisingly firm. “Understanding the client is key. But sometimes, a designer can help them see beyond limitations,

narrowed, then softened a fraction. A flicker of something, maybe

time, Ms. Edwards,” I said, extending

my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. Thank you, Ms. Stone,” she replied, her voice lacking its earlier edge.

but something had shifted in the room. Maybe it was the way my voice gained strength, the unexpected fire in my eyes. Maybe it was the connection I unknowingly made between my father’s

the sudden glare of the afternoon sun. Car horns blared, pedestrians hurried past in a blur of colors and faces, and the air thrummed with a chaotic