Casey
I got home hoping that my mom wouldn't see me, but I was just three flights up the stairs when I heard her voice coming from the living room.
"Casey, is that you?"
I sighed, turned around, and walked down the stairs. "Yes, Mom, it's me."
She came toward me. "You're back? I thought you were going to work... Please don't tell me you didn't go. That would break me and Leonard's heart. I already told you how Leonard was so excited that you and Cesar would be working for his company, his legacy—"
I knew what she was going on to say, so I interrupted her.
"I know, Mom. I get it, and I understand. I did go to work."
"Then if you went to work, why are you home so early?" she asked, a frown on her face.
I took a deep breath before I told her.
"Actually, I went to work for an interview."
"An interview?" She was surprised, which told me Cesar hadn't told her about this either.
"Yes," I told her. "I went because they needed me to do an interview. My first round, actually. I think after they've sat down and decided who gets the job—because I think a lot of people were applying—they'll call me to go for a second round."
Her frown deepened. "But Cesar…" And then she stopped herself. "I don't get it. If you were going in for an interview, why didn't Cesar just tell me?"
I didn't tell her anything. I mean, what was there to say?
But then, after pondering for a while, she put on a smile. Even though I knew that smile… she didn't mean it.
"It's fine. You're smart. You're gorgeous. I'm sure you left a great impression, and they're going to call you..." She patted my chick, "I was just talking to a wedding planner. Do you want to come in? Participate in the making of the wedding?"
"I would love to," I said, "but I'm kind of tired. I wasn't expecting this interview, and it took a toll on me. Do you mind if I just go to sleep, and maybe when I wake up later we can do it together?"
She smiled. "Of course, honey. You go and lay down."
I didn't get out of my room until Victor came back from school.
Then I went downstairs with him. He had his snack, I had lunch. Afterwards, I helped him with his homework. We played a little game, just something simple, and then we sat outside as the sun began to set—talking about school, his teachers, and his friends.
I really loved these moments with him.
And every time—the first time I see him after being away—it always killed me a little. The guilt, the regret. I'd question my choices, and wonder if I had done the right thing by stepping away. But then I'd look at him. Happy. Laughing. Full of energy. He had a family. He had people who loved him, really loved him. He was living a normal life. A good life.
Maybe I did make the right decision.
I swallow those thoughts down again just as my mom comes out to get us—time to take a bath before dinner.
I help Victor with his bath. We talk some more, and Then we get ready and head down for dinner.
Leonard is already home. The dinner table is buzzing with talk about the wedding. I can see how happy my mom is, glowing in a way I don't think I've seen in years. Every time I glance at Leonard, I see it too—how enriched he looks, how full he is just by being next to her. He watches her the whole time, smiling to himself like he's the luckiest man in the world.
And maybe he is.
My mom deserves this. She deserves to be this happy. And seeing how they both treat Victor—with so much love like he's truly their son—it fills me with so much warmth.
But there's also something else. A small, painful feeling I can't quite name. A pang of sadness, maybe. Loneliness? I don't know what it is. But I feel it.
~~~~~
The next morning, I woke up From the ringing of my phone. I didn't even check the screen. It was just numbers—no contact name, no hint. I picked it up and put it to my ear, still halfway in sleep.
"Good morning, Ms. Moon. Am I speaking to Casey Moon?"
Nothing wakes you up faster than someone saying your full name right after you've picked up a call. I shot upright, clearing my throat.
"Yes. Yes, it's me. I'm Casey Moon." My voice was groggy, and dry, like it didn't belong to me yet.
"All right, Ms. Casey Moon. My name is Jasper. We haven't officially met, but you passed your first round of interviews. We need you at the company grounds at 7 sharp. Be there. Mr. Blackwell is a very busy man, and that's the only time he has to spare for your interview."
"My interview?" I asked, confused and still trying to process what was happening. "Cesar wants to—"
But he'd already hung up.
I stared at the phone like it had betrayed me. That's when I checked the time.
5:04 AM.
Who in their right mind is awake this early to call someone about a job interview? What kind of corporate-level crack is this shit?
Nobody called me yesterday, so I figured it might take a few days—or maybe they wouldn't call me at all. And now here we were, not even dawn, and I was being summoned.
I looked at the time again. If I wanted to be there at 7 sharp, I had to start moving. Now.
Goddamn it.
I can't even remember how I got to Blackwell Group. It's all a blur of panic and nervousness.
What I do remember is this: me, totally hysterical, ripping clothes out of my wardrobe like a madwoman—no coordination whatsoever. Just chaos. I threw on the first decent thing I could find, slapped on some makeup, grabbed my shoes, my bag, my phone, and bolted up the stairs to my mom's room.
She was still in bed, barely blinking when I knocked on the golden double doors, asking her to help me arrange a driver to get to the office.
And instead of helping immediately, she stared at me and said,
"You're not going out looking like that."
Next thing, I was being ushered back to my room, while she dug through my closet herself. She picked out something "more appropriate," fixed my hair, and made sure I didn't look like I just escaped from a fight.
Then I was running—again—down the stairs, into the car, giving directions to a driver who looked just as sleepy as I felt.
And even though traffic was light because it was so damn early, I still managed to get there late.
7:15.
Fifteen minutes late for a "7 sharp" appointment. There was just one receptionist today, the same one from the day before.
"Hi. I'm Casey Moon," I said. "I'm here for a second interview. Jasper called me this morning?"
She nodded with that expressionless face people who work reception wear like armour. "Please have a seat," she said, already reaching for the phone.
I sat. And sat.
Thirty full minutes passed before a man I'd never seen before approached me. Tall, sharp suit, dead-serious face.
"Miss Casey Moon?"
"Yes," I said, standing. "Hello. You must be Jasper."
"Yes, I am." He didn't smile. "I told you to be here by 7 sharp." He looked at his watch pointedly. "This is not 7 sharp."
By now, people were getting into the building, and walking past us, some of them glancing my way like I was a kid about to get scolded in the principal's office. Just great.
"I got here around 7:10-ish," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "You're the one who took thirty minutes to come down."
His mouth curled into something that looked almost like a smile, but it wasn't kind.
"Do you really want this job?"
I looked at him and said, "I.... want this job."
Even though, truthfully, I wanted to say—I didn't.
He looked at me again—really looked. Like he was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or just some girl who lied. Then, without warning, his gaze dropped.
From my face to my shoes. Back up to my hair.
Down again. Up again.
Twice. No, three times.
He was checking me out. Not in a flirty way. In that cold, calculated way that makes your skin crawl. Like he was assessing damage or value. And the worst part? People around us started noticing. Following his eyes. Turning to look at me.
I wanted to disappear.
He sighed like this entire interaction exhausted him.
"Follow me," he said curtly.