Page 17 of Twist of Fate
But after the month I’ve had orchestrating this move, I’m finally here.
I lean back and start doom-scrolling through my Instagram feed to kill time. Huge mistake. If there’s one thing that can make your somewhat iffy mood plummet like a sinking ship, it’s seeing your college roommate post yet another photo of her and her picture-perfect fiancé on vacation in…where was it this time? Oh yeah, Ibiza. Ugh.
Ten agonizing minutes later, I look up and see the modern-day clone of the Duke of Hastings. And yes, I know a real actor actually plays the character fromBridgerton, but this obviously isn’t him.
But it could be his brother.
Or his very similar cousin.
’Cause, wowza. He’s hot.
Given the way he glances around, looking somewhat dumbfounded and lost, I would bet he’s my counterpart for the day.
Yay for me.
Wearing black slacks, a crisp gray button-down, and dark-rimmed glasses, he’s got the whole nerd-hot vibe going on. I walk up to the desk and arrive just as he does. No surprise here, but the receptionist doesn’t even acknowledge my presence as soon as she sees him.
When he opens his mouth and a posh British accent comes out, I’m pretty sure she melts right on the spot.
“Hello, my name is Damien Kent.” He even sounds like he belongs in Victorian England, sipping tea and complaining about the Ton. “I’m here for?—”
“Yes, yes!” The receptionist practically leaps from her chair to help him. “Come with me,” she insists before noticing me. “Oh, you too, Miss?—”
“Farrell,” I offer, but the name appears to fall on deaf ears since she’s already returned to Damien, her smile beaming from ear to ear.
“I’m Penny, by the way. Can I get you anything?” she asks while batting her eyelashes at him. “Tea? Coffee?” Pretty sure her eyes silently say,me. Shameless, this woman. I’m all for a good age-gap romance, but some of us are trying to work here.
“Um, no,” he replies politely before deliberately shifting his attention to me. “What about you? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your first name.”
I swallow nervously. “Aisling.”
“Aisling,” he repeats as if he’s testing how it sounds.
Spoiler alert: it sounds good.
“First day?” he asks as we all step into the elevator. His elbow brushes against mine, and I take a step back, instantly realizing how cozy the space is.
I nod. “Just moved her from Chicago. You?”
“American?” he muses. “Interesting. I’m from London originally, but I’ve been living in Scotland for the last few years, working for a tour group up in Edinburgh.”
Damn, he sounds legit.
Why the hell did they hire me then? A bachelor’s degree in history and an unkept travel blog. That was the sum total of my résumé, aside from the office job I’d worked right out of college. It hardly seems comparable to Damien’s actual work experience.
“Where are you—” Before Damien has a chance to finish his question, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open.
“Here we are,” Penny announces. “This is where you’ll both be working. The call center is one floor below us. The higher-ups are one floor above.”
I step out of the elevator and look around. The same modern design from the lobby is present here. Light wood floors and bright white walls display larger-than-life photos of Ireland. The floor plan is completely open, with not a cubicle in sight.
The atmosphere on the floor seems laid-back. They are sitting at their desks with cups of coffee and tea. I notice some chatting and laughing, while others remain focused and quiet.
“I’ll quickly show you to your desks, and then I’ll introduce you to Nora.”
Nora is a name I know. We have been exchanging emails for weeks, and she is the person who interviewed me and, ultimately, the woman who hired me.
I take a deep breath as Damien and I quietly follow Penny, side by side, until we reach two empty desks grouped with a few others.
