I adjusted the collar of my borrowed blouse for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, took one look in the mirror and sighed. The girl in the mirror did not belong in New York City, not to talk of a Manhattan skyscraper.
"You're going to rip the dress apart, Amara", Cassie said with a chuckle, "you're perfect, relax."
"I feel like a fraud, Cass". I retorted. "I feel like I'm pretending to be someone I'm not".
"You are applying for a job, like every other normal person in New York, you need this job, you deserve this." Cassie said sternly. I just know I have to get it together because when Cassie sounds serious, you know it's serious.
I gave her a small, unsure smile.
"Listen," Cassie said, nudging me towards the couch at the corner of the living room where I slept last night to get my bag and coat I had laid on it earlier. "You've got the look. You've got the heart. You just came here from Montana, your dad needs surgery, and you're trying. That already makes you ten times stronger than most people in this city."
I looked down. "It's not just any secretary job, Cass. What if I mess it up?"
"You won't. You'll walk in there, smile, and blow them away with your charm." Cassie grinned. "It's just Knight Group. Not the White House."
I let out a short laugh. "Knight Group is practically the White House."
"Well, then it's time to act presidential."
Cassie walked to the kitchen, to make herself breakfast; corn flakes and some milk with five or six perfectly round shaped ice cubes, just how she liked it.
Eat something," she called out. "You'll faint before you even get to the building if you keep pacing around on an empty stomach."
"I'm too nervous. My stomach's doing backflips," I groaned, though my feet slowly dragged me into the kitchen anyway.
Cassie raised a brow and shoved a slice of buttered toast into my hand. "Three bites, at least. I'm not negotiating."
I sat on the edge of the kitchen stool, nibbling on the toast like it was some kind of foreign object. Every bite turned in my stomach, threatening to come back out. "I think I'm going to throw up," I muttered.
"Better in here than when you get there, or worse, during your interview," Cassie quipped, unfazed. "Sip some hot chocolate. You'll be fine."
I stared at the mug of hot Choco in front of me and blew on it with shaky hands. She made it for me even though she was running late to her own job. That was Cassie, tough love, dry humor, and way more loyalty than I deserved.
I walked toward the door about to step out. Suddenly, Cassie called out.
"Remember to flash your most charming smile when talking to Mr. Knight."
"Mr. Knight!", I cried out, "Cass, The Mr. Knight?"
"Mhm", she responded, "He personally conducts all personal assistant interviews himself."
I felt like my legs were stuck to the floor. I tried to process what I had just heard when the TV in the corner of the living room caught my attention. A news anchor stood outside the gleaming Knight Group building.
"…still no official comment from CEO Elan Knight following the sudden departure of former secretary Nadia Lane, who was reportedly pregnant before leaving for London. Rumors continue to swirl about the paternity of the child…"
Cassie grabbed the remote immediately and turned it off with a click.
"Not again, can these people give it a break?"
She turned to me as I stood by the door, puzzled.
"Don't worry about that, you're not Nadia, you are not there to get pregnant. You're Amara Hart, and you need this job."
I nodded slowly. "Yes, I do."
"Now go," Cassie said, gently shoving me toward the door. "Come by my office immediately after your interview."
I gave her a short laugh and walked out the door, ready to conquer anything life threw at me.
The bus ride was a blur of screeching wheels and bodies packed too close together. I looked outside the window in wonder like a child on her first trip to Disneyland, sure New York was much different than Montana. I sigh again. My nerves were getting the best of me. Every second felt like I was inching closer to something I wasn't ready for.
The Knight Group building was massive. I tilted my head back just to see the top, feeling smaller with every passing second and I was already so small. Glass and steel stretched into the clouds like it didn't even know how to end. People in suits and heels moved around the sidewalks like they had somewhere important to be, like they belonged, I felt like I didn't.
I stepped inside, clutching my bag like it was a lifeline. My shoes squeaking faintly against the floor.
The lobby was quiet, filled with polished marble and the faint scent of something very expensive, like old money and expensive perfume. I walked over to the front desk, where a woman with red lipstick and a perfect bun looked up slowly, like I had interrupted something far more important.
"Name?" the receptionist asked, her tone flat.
"Amara Hart. I have an interview."
The woman clicked a few keys, then gave me a demeaning look. Her eyes lingered on my shoes, cheap and scuffed. Something in her expression told me I was already being judged.
"You're late," she said.
My heart jumped. "I thought I was five minutes early, I…"
"Barely," the receptionist interrupted. "Take a seat. You'll be called."
I sat down on the edge of one of the velvet chairs, trying not to fidget. I felt eyes on me, even if no one was looking. My legs bounced nervously, and I clutched my bag tighter like it could shield me.
The receptionist had not looked at me again since telling me to wait.
What was I even doing here?
I was out of place. I didn't belong in a place like Knight Group. I was not qualified to be here. I was just a girl from Montana with a patched résumé and a borrowed blazer.
"You've got this, you deserve this job, more than anybody I know," Cassie's voice rang in my ears.
I thought about my father. About the bills piling up. About the specialist we needed to see.
I had no choice but to try.
Just then, the receptionist's voice called out, loud and clear.
"Miss Hart?"
I stood quickly, almost tripping over my feet.
The receptionist didn't smile. She simply stood, and nodded toward the hallway of offices.
"Mr. Knight will see you now."