Mechelle pov
The late spring season always brought drizzly weather after a brief spell of sunshine. Even the air felt damp and heavy.
Early in the morning, after dropping Marc off at kindergarten, I headed straight to my new company. My boss was a divorced woman in her forties, exuding charisma and a strong, businesslike demeanor.
My first day wasn't filled with specific tasks; it was more about familiarizing myself with the new job. Thanks to my achievements in Paris, many colleagues looked up to me, but some secretly mocked me—though I brushed it off. I had already weathered the cutthroat competition of Paris over six years. It's survival of the fittest; otherwise, you're out.
Around noon, Shelly called to invite me for lunch, and I gladly accepted, informing my colleagues before catching a taxi.