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They grin at each other while I step into my closet to gather my clothes for the trip to London. The second one in three months. We’re not flying there for another few days, but Gabriel, Val, and I have to be in Italy for meetings tomorrow. That means I have to get all my shit ready days in advance.
The image of the mysterious woman slips back into my mind as I look through which clothes to take on my trip. I wonder what she might be up to. What cars she’s photographing right now, or if she’s taking photos of something else. She’s an incredible photographer from what I saw last time. The way she played with angles and lighting was mind-blowing. I could have stared at the pictures all day if she wasn’t so fucking beautiful, it made my chest constrict as I looked at her. Not to mention, there was something fiery about her too. She blushed perfectly when I complimented her, but my charm didn’t make her like me, not like it does with most people. I mean, it helped me win over the grumpiest man in the world of Formula One, Leonard Tick, and he’s one of my best friends now. But with her? Nothing. She didn’t even know who the hell I was, and that was the most refreshing of all.
Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about her.
Maybe that’s why I’m hoping to run into her again.
Maybe I’ve just lost all sense of who the fuck I am because I don’t get emotionally involved with people I want to have sex with.
“I love you,” I hear Gabriel whisper to Val, who giggles a little before telling him she loves him the same.
Something in my chest dislodges as I listen to their conversation, to their declaration of love. I don’t want a relationship, I never have, but I can’t pretend that the idea of loving someone as much as my sister loves her fiancé isn’t a little appealing, after all. Don’t get me wrong. It’s as appealing as jumping out of a crashing plane with a fifty percent chance of having a parachute, but there issomethingI can’t ignore anymore.
I shudder again before going back to packing and ignoring the direction my thoughts have gone for the hundredth time since I came acrossherin England.
Chapter 2
Nevaeh
Mylegisbouncingup and down. My heart is pounding and palpitating in my chest. My breathing is awfully uneven. I had one of my full-body anxiety attacks before I got ready this morning, so I was hoping it would ease a little now, as it usually does.
I’m not that lucky, unfortunately.
The shaking of my legs spreads to my hands too, and I have to take several deep breaths to slow my heart rate again. It works somewhat, giving me enough space to force my thoughts into a better direction instead of letting them spiral into the dark hole of what-ifs, worst-possible outcomes, and other fears I don’t want to identify right now.
After four years of studying sports journalism and interning at various companies the entire time, I finally scored an interview with one of the biggest sports media companies in England:Griffin Sports.
Known for their prestigiousness and sharing reliable information,Griffin Sportsisthemedia company for every type of sport you could think of. It’s a dream for every sports journalist to work here. To either have articles published on their website, or video-recorded interviews shared across all platforms. My dream is to write articles and take photographs of the events I’m reporting on. It’s a dream I may have not had for long but am just as passionate about as the one I lost a few years ago.
People pass by the waiting area where I’ve been sitting for the past twenty minutes, not caring about my presence as they go about their day. I wish I was as calm as them. Instead, my hands are sweating while I wait impatiently for anyone to call my name.
Becoming a sports journalist was my Plan B in life. Plan A was to become a professional tennis player. One rotator cuff tear later, and I haven’t been able to pick up a racket since. Familiar shivers of suppressed sadness run down my spine, and I shake my head to focus on my future.
Looking back isn’t going to help me get this job, and I desperately need it.
“Ms. Fuchs? Mrs. Lu will see you now.” I look up to see a tall, well-dressed man in front of me. He’s giving me an indifferent smile before walking away, clearly expecting me to follow him. I jump out of my seat and rush after him, simultaneously trying to calm my heart by taking deep breaths.
It doesn’t work.
TheGriffin Sportsheadquarters is big and open. There is a lot of natural light coming through the hundreds of windows I walk past. There are also a dozen desks with hardworking people behind them. It’s not a cubicle-type office situation, but I cringe nevertheless. An office job is not where I saw myself, quite the opposite actually, but if that’s all I get for now, I will make it work.
“Right in here,” the man says, and I step through two large wooden doors.
Mrs. Amanda Lu, the CEO of this media company, sits in her office chair while looking over what I assume are potential articles to be published. Another woman is in the chair beside her, staring at her screen. When Mrs. Lu sees me, a genuine smile covers her heart-shaped lips. She tugs her black hair behind her ears before getting up to greet me with a handshake. I quickly wipe my right hand on my skirt, which, luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice.
“Ms. Fuchs, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Mrs. Lu says with a thick Scottish accent and points to the chair she wants me to sit in. I do as I’m directed, glad that my shaking legs don’t have to hold me up anymore. The other woman at the desk smiles kindly at me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Lu. I’m a huge fan of your work,” I reply and hope that flattery will make her like me more.
From the smile on her face, I can tell it does.
“Thank you, I appreciate you saying that.” She points to the woman beside her next. “I’d like to introduce you to my COO, Ms. Cecilia Martin.” I shake her hand as well, smiling at the woman with light eyes and blonde-graying hair. There’s something familiar about her, like I’ve seen her before too. It must have been when I was researching the company and Mrs. Lu. “However, we would like to talk about you.”
The nervous laugh bubbling up in my chest almost escapes me, but I cover it up by clearing my throat. I need to get my nerves under control if I want to ace this interview.
“Your resumé states that you were born in Germany, but completed your primary education in Australia, your secondary in the U.S., and your post-secondary here in England. Would you say you are both fluent in German and English?” she asks first, and I nod before I answer.
“Yes, I had a private tutor for German in Sydney and Austin. I studied English for as long as I can remember.” My facial muscles are starting to cramp from all the smiling. Mrs. Lu leans back in her chair, her eyes fixated on a piece of paper I can only assume has my resumé on it. Ms. Martin smiles reassuringly at me.
