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.”

I nodded, trying to muster some confidence. The

Edwards,” she announced, her voice back to its usual

She was older than I expected, maybe in her late fifties, with silver streaked hair

“Thank you.

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

swirled around my mind but I knew for now, I had to focus on this interview. I took a deep

smile.

Edwards,” I said, extending a hand. “It’s nice

stared at my hand for a beat before reaching out

gaze

just an interview anymore. It felt like a test, an interrogation. And I wasn’t sure if I was

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

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Chapter 16

cheeks burned. “I like to push boundaries,” I stamntered, “to

happy clients? Not everyone wants the unexpected in their living

practiced answers, the slick comebacks I’d prepared- vanished, “Well, …” I trailed off, feeling like

tapping a rhythm against the desk. “Interior design isn’t just about expressing yourself, Ms. Stone,” she began, a hint of condescension in her voice. “It’s about understanding your client’s needs,

took everything from me.” Taking a deep. breath, I sat up straighter. “You’re absolutely right, Ms. Edwards,” I said, my voice

something, maybe even interest,

for your time, Ms. Edwards,” I said,

took my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. Thank you, Ms. Stone,” she replied, her voice lacking its earlier edge. “We’ll be in

voice gained strength, the unexpected fire in my eyes. Maybe it was the connection I unknowingly made

of the imposing office building, I squinted against the sudden glare of the afternoon sun. Car horns blared, pedestrians hurried past in a blur of colors and faces, and the