Chapter#3 A new beginning?

Sarah's POV

" I-uhh" I stumbled at my words, for an unknown reason. 

"Hmm?"

"I saw this advertisement about a junior assistant. I was wondering if you are still hiring."

"Oh I see, you are here for that job" he eyed me head to toe.I was not dressed very appropriately for a job interview. I came straight from work, more like fired from the work so I was in my jeans and had worn a very baggy T-shirt. His style of checking me out confirmed to me that I was definitely not getting the job. But somehow he seemed interested.

"Can I ask you, who are you?" I asked to break the awkward silence.

"Oh I am in the hiring team, my name is Clarke" he offered his hand, which I took very hesitantly.

"Is it okay if I interview you" he asked with a very non professional smile, that showed me some red flags. I was fired from that cafe job today because some creepy customer was being too touchy. And no matter how confident I was, physical touch always scared the hell out of me. And I caused a mess by spilling the drink. Due to which He and my boss went crazy. But this was enough, I asked for my paycheck which he gave very reluctantly and fired me. I never had friends so there was no one I was going to miss and there was no one who would be happy that I left that toxic workplace. So , I printed out my CV and came to this place without having any second thoughts.

 I was trying to figure out his intentions but then I remembered that I didn't have that many options to consider and I nodded yes. 

"So, you can sit here" he directed me to the waiting lobby sitting arrangements.I was literally curious, how unprofessional it would be to have an interview in an already busy place. I saw there weren't many people, just some staff on their computers. Some people were walking so casually dressed like celebrities. Whatever this place it had something to do about music in specific. I sat at one of the chairs and he sat beside me at a fairly safe distance, thankfully. I handed him the file. He opened it so casually and after a minute or two he said:

"Oh so you are a student?"

" Yes," I answered.

" What do you study?" he inquired. 

"I am doing bachelors in medicine"

"Oh so you are going to be a doctor?"his eyes suddenly bulged.

Apparently I was just trying to continue living at this point but I didn't say so and nodded my head in answer.

"Wouldn't that be tough, I mean I have heard that doctors have to study so much. How will you manage?".

yes we do need to study a lot if we are not starving, I thought. 

"yeah , we have to but I have some student loans to pay and also I am on my own. Like there is no one who is responsible for my financial needs so I need this job."In other words I just said that I am broke and I have no family so please give me this job. 

"Oh I see," his eyes were shining, and then he stood up. 

"Come with me," he said. 

"Where ?" was my obvious question to him. 

"To the boss. For your final interview".

Wait what?

I didn't expect that but somehow that  made some sense, he did his preliminary investigation before bringing me to his boss. Did that mean I had the chance to be hired? For that I had to follow him. I accompanied him to the elevator and I didn't notice what floor it was taking us to. The door opened and we stepped out. In front of me there was a large hall with glass walls. Everyone in there was in his cabin with a computer. The man named Clarke was still walking by the side of that glass hall, there was a hallway with walls decorated with different pictures. By their look and style they were surely some celebrities, I didn't know if one of them was the boss. As I followed him,  I felt strange stares from the people inside the glass walls. But I ignored them. Clarke stopped in front of a room, with chocolate brown crafts on it. Maybe it was our destination. He turned and said:

"Wait for me, I'll call you."

"Okay," was all I said.

I had waited for like 5 minutes hardly, when Clarke reappeared.

"Please, come in," he said , directing  his hand inside the room. 

When I stepped I found the room, larger than I expected. The studio in the extension of the room caught my attention. Different music devices, computers and things that I had never seen or heard of were there. On the front, brown leather couches were complementing the whole interior. I was fully immersed in praising the room with my eyes when Clarke woke me up;

"Here , have a seat Miss Spencer," I heard him saying. I turned when I realised the purpose of the visit. And I found a man sitting on the rolling chair with a large office table in front of him. He must be the boss,I thought. I was walking towards the chair, when I noticed his eyes were dark brown matching the colour of his hair. His hair was messy and carelessly pushed to the side. And his gaze, his gaze had something that I felt under the layers of my skin. I sat on the chair, on the other side table facing him. He was all dressed in black with a silver chain contrasting his outfit. His gaze didn't shift from me, nor mine. Also his eyes were still and for some reason felt very cold. 

" Will you say something, if you are done eyeing me out," his voice was deep. Also his words were cold but somehow they managed to make me skip a breath. And when I came back to my senses, I saw Clarke giving a scolding look to him. 

"Hi , my name is Sarah Spencer," I managed to speak.

"Which I have read through your CV, anything new?" he asked, arching his eyebrow.

Did he just? I tried hard to make some sense out of his attitude.

"Please, I didn't tell her yet," Clarke stepped in the conversation. 

I looked at him, tell her? What was it? Some  shitty reality TV show?

"The thing is Miss Spencer, we are here for  a proposal," Clarke stated.

"A proposal?" I repeated his words.

"Yes , proposal for a contract," he explained.

But unfortunately, this explanation still didn't calm the chaos rising in my head. I looked at the guy in front of me. I found him amused by this confused look I got. Side of his lips curled. That was enough to put me in deeper confusion. 

"Can you please tell me what's going on?" I asked Clarke. 

"Yes,  but please just hear me out first" he pleaded.

"Ok, go on," I replied. 

"This is Harry Watson," his hands were directed towards the man sitting in front of me. I stole a glance of him and found him with the same cold yet strange gaze locked at me.

" I think you are not very aware of music amd stuff, so I should tell you this first. He is a very famous music producer, and is recently under some criticism." So he is a musician.

"What criticism?"I asked in utter confusion.

"Let me explain please" he pleaded and then continued again:

"He is criticised for being a playboy, so we were thinking about a solution for this. And we figured it out that if he could marry a girl then we would be able to shut their mouths." he paused.

"And I still don't understand why it should be my concern?" I almost shouted.

And then I heard that deep voice again:

" Because you are broke," were his words.

"Harry please-" I heard Clarke.

"Excuse me?" I turned to him and caught an exhausted impression of his perfectly sculpted features.

"I said you are broke, and you have loans. I will take care of your financial matters in return you have to be my contractual wife for public display," he explained shamelessly.

I saw Clarke clenching his jaws.

Pathetic was all I felt. I wanted to laugh at my own situation but instead I advocated myself:

"What do you think I am? A hooker?" I was almost shouting.

"No, Miss Spencer please-,"Clarke tried to control the heat.

"My hookers are far more expensive to be faked, we just want a normal, ordinary girl, who had no public appearances in the past and she is broke enough to rely on us and be loyal," his voice, face both were stern and unaffected by the severity of his own words. 

I really wanted to slap that perfect face of his. But I managed to stand up ,

"You better hire a hooker, because I am not broke enough to devalue myself," I said in the most polite way. I noticed shifting in his facial features, signalling to me that I did hit his ego. I turned and walked out of that shitty place.

I was lying on my bed for the past hour, trying to process what just happened. The thing about rich people is that these crackheads only know about money. Trying to find out price tags of each and everything they want. And here I was thinking of being hired for a better paying job and all my life problems would be sought out. 

I stood up and checked my phone, there were messages from my landlady. My rent was due. I wanted to feel out of these things for just a second, where I won't have to worry about meals or rent or bills. I can focus on what's important. I went straight to the bathroom and took a shower. And got out with  the same unchanged feeling. It felt like his eyes were still looking at me, humiliating me. His dark brown eyes looked into my soul and also hurt that soul deeply. I shouldn't be so hurt about some stranger calling me broke, which I obviously am, and trying to buy me with his money. I wanted to look for logic. But it hurt so bad. And no matter how much I tried to forget his words, my financial conditions were mockingly reminded me of his voice, his gaze, his humiliating remarks and his reckless attitude.

 No crying, no crying  I said to myself, wanting to stop my tears to break the stronger shell of my personality. But they rolled and no matter how much I hated crying, It was the only thing I managed to do while trying to console myself. I covered my face with my hands, letting myself fall on my bed on my back. I was sobbing loudly, I was sure neighbours were going to complain tomorrow. But I was feeling like absolute shit. 

"Please Lord, I want you to be easy on me", I cried, not understanding my own statement. And when I had shed enough tears to feel tired,  sleep prevailed over my body to give me a break from all of the drama. 

It was a full morning when I woke up, I had a long day ahead. So, I didn't have time for a self therapy session to recover from what happened yesterday. I quickly took a two minute shower and went to the cooking portion of my room. I stand there for a full five minutes to figure out what to eat. Not that I had so many options, but I was feeling very nauseous. Of Course stomach is the most affected organ if you are having stress. I sat on my bed, feeling my appetite lost somewhere last night. 

I started organising my small bookshelf, as there was nothing else to do and I still had forty minutes to depart for the bus. My phone rang and I picked it up. It was my landlady. Of course she was pissed that I didn't answer her last night. And she was clearly saying that she will throw my stuff out if I won't pay the rent in two days. I hung it up. Pressing my fingers in my forehead skin, I sighed. I sat at the broken chair, my hands were cupping my head. And all I wanted was a moment to relax. My doorbell rang  and I stood up. Thinking if it's Stacy this time, I am not gonna entertain her. But when I opened the door, suddenly all my sympathetic responses began to get into work. Dark brown eyes staring at mine, radiating a strange kind of energy. And all I managed to say was;

"you?"