CHAPTER 13

"Do have a lovely day." Malthus exited the room. The interview had come to an end and all interviewers were taking their leave. Pamela was the next to exit the door, then, Rita. When Rita was to leave, she stopped at the door and turned back.

"Laura." Upon hearing her name, Laura stood immediately.

"Yes, please."

"Skirts of that length are not allowed in this company. That's too short for a corporate skirt, don't you think so?" Laura was speechless.

"And you have such a bright potential..." Rita said as she shook her head sideways.

"I…I—" Laura tried to speak.

"But do have an awesome day!" With this, Rita exited the room, leaving Laura in the room with the other interviewees, in utter despair.

Laura was distraught. Her walk out of the company to the bus terminal was even more discouraging than when she sat at the beginning of the interview. She let her black shoe furiously kick a little stone, allowing it to aggressively roll forward. She thought that she already aced the interview, she thought that, finally, she was going to be an employee.

But hearing Rita's disappointed words was a huge turnoff. The first time she ever thought that she could do things differently to get a job, was the sole reason for her rejection. She wanted to scream. Laura was no stranger to failures she had failed consistently for 3 years now, but she couldn't help but feel dejected.

Even though she was well acquainted with failures, this one was different, so, she thought. Unlike her past failures, she could now see her limelight in view, only for it to be snatched away from her. The only thing that Laura could think of was how she shouldn't have listened to Anna. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, why did she ever let Anna have a deciding power over her outfit?

"Urgh!" Laura said as she fell uncomposed on the Bus Stop bench. Her back was slouched, lost of every vibrance it once had. She felt bad for blaming Anna, all of this was just a coincidence.

The bus finally came, and Laura went aboard.

****

"Could you pick a good one?" Ralph asked. He was on his reclined seat. Even though he gave himself a 5-minute break, he still couldn't remove his mind from work, and this always astonished Malthus, no matter how often he did it.

"Didn't you imply that it was of no concern to you, since I was the one needing an assistant, sir?" Malthus spoke. "

"Malthus, she's going to eventually work by my side when you're not here…" Ralph spoke with his teeth clenched. "Did you pick well?"

Although Ralph wanted to trust Malthus with the selection, also considering that Malthus had worked with him for over a decade now, he still was a bit concerned about the type of woman he might choose. He wanted her to be perfect.

Malthus, who was aware of the picky nature of his boss, and how serious he took his preferences, immediately answered. "Yes, sir, I did. I picked one that will best suit you." Malthus had already mentally decided who was going to be his Assistant Secretary.

"What is she like?" Malthus asked.

"Hmm." Malthus knew that regardless of whatever his boss said, he was on edge about this Assistant Secretary. "She's not easy to describe, but she'll resume on Monday, then, you'll see her."

With this, Ralph raised both his hands. "Alright, I give up." Saying this, he readjusted the reclined seat and continued working, causing Malthus to mentally heave a sigh of relief.

****

Every Friday, Ralph would usually drive himself to his secretly purchased house he acquired 11 years ago before his father died. He would allow Malthus to leave early so that he could be alone. On this night, he drove at high speed, riding in his designated blue Ferrari, which he would normally use on nights like this. Nights when he would let himself indulge in the vanities of pleasure, after binging on work throughout the week.

The sharp orange streetlights penetrated through the opaque windows, spiralling on his face as he sped on the almost empty highway, in the dark of the evening. Ralph was a 38-year-old billionaire, he knew that if he retired now, he had enough to take care of his children and their children's vainness if he wanted, but he chose to work. Work was all he ever knew.

After pulling up in the garage of his house, he strolled in, his shoes clanking on the marble floors as he walked. Switching on the lights, he stood firmly in front of a large picture on the wall that came into view. There, a man and a woman with smiling faces were captured, a couple who had just gotten married; they were his parents. Hank and Jelena Landers.

Ralph looked intently at the picture. For all he knew, this was the only picture there was, where his parents were smiling together. Ralph grew up in a rather complicated home. His father would be considered a naïve man, and his mother…

His mother was ridiculous.

Jelena was an actress; she was often referred to as the nation's beauty. From her youthful days, even to her later adulthood, one wouldn't notice that she had aged a bit. Maybe this was why she would seduce whomever and whatever. She was always involved in one scandal after the other, for nothing other than promiscuity; an adulteress.

His mother was very popular, but she was infamous. His father, Hank, on the other hand, adored the ground upon which Jelena walked. Whether she was involved in thousands of scandals, was no deep concern of his, all he wanted was for his wife to say, "No darling, that's not true! Don't you trust me?".

Hank would rather live a lie than come to terms with the fact that his wife didn't love him, and even more, to know that she didn't care enough to respect the peace of their marriage; even though she was often careless, letting herself get caught with men younger than her son. Even with his unsettling marriage, Hank still mounted such a huge picture in his bedroom, right in front of his bed.

Ralph looked intently at the picture with spite, his blood boiling. He shut his eyes and clenched his fist tight, opening his mouth, he whispered, "I will never be like you, Dad."