A Rough Interview

Matt's POV

The moment the meeting ended, I pushed back my chair and stood, already scanning the office space where I had last seen her. She had been right there, sitting just across the conference room. But now, she was gone. A mixture of frustration and urgency burned in my chest. I needed to find her, I needed to know why the hell she was here after all these years. Was she working here already? Was she a visitor? Did she even realize that this was my company?

I barely made it three steps toward the office doors before someone stepped into my path.

"Mr. Sterling..."

I halted abruptly as my secretary, Evelyn, appeared in front of me, clutching a stack of documents. Of course.

She gave me a polite but expectant look, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. "These need your signature immediately, sir," she said, adjusting her glasses. "And you have an interview scheduled in the next five minutes."

D*mn it.

I clenched my jaw, barely holding back my frustration. The last thing I wanted to do right now was sit through an interview. Not when I had more pressing matters, like figuring out if I had actually seen Racheal or if my mind was playing cruel tricks on me.

Evelyn, however, didn't seem to care about my internal wars. She pushed the documents into my hands and gestured down the hallway. "Your office is ready, and the candidate will be brought in shortly."

I exhaled sharply, knowing there was no escaping this. With a reluctant nod, I took the documents and allowed her to escort me back to my office. My mind was still spinning as I walked, my pulse unsteady.

We reached my office, and I stepped inside, dropping the documents onto my desk. My office felt suffocating, I needed air. I needed to think. But instead, Evelyn handed me a file. The job candidate's file.

"This is the applicant you'll be interviewing," she said, straightening. "She'll be in shortly."

I gave a distracted nod, barely glancing at the file as I sank into my chair.

She turned to leave but then hesitated at the door. "Are you alright, sir? You seem... distracted."

I looked up sharply. "I'm fine."

A pause. Then, a curt nod. "Very well. I'll send her in now."

With that, she disappeared.

I exhaled heavily and leaned forward, rubbing a hand over my face before flipping open the file. And then, everything stopped.

The name on the first page made my heart lurch violently in my chest.

Racheal Evans.

I stared at the page, my brain refusing to process what I was seeing. It couldn't be.

I looked again. Read the name twice. Three times. But it didn't change.

Racheal was the candidate.

The woman I had just seen through the glass, the woman who had once meant everything to me, was applying for a job in my company.

A sharp knock on the door snapped me out of my trance. I barely had time to react before the door swung open, and she stepped in.

Racheal.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

She stood there, back straight, a thin portfolio clutched in her hands. She was wearing a simple, professional outfit. Black slacks, a soft blue blouse, but it did nothing to hide the quiet strength in her posture. She looked different. Older. More refined. But at the same time, she was still the same Racheal I had once known. The girl I had left behind.

Our eyes met, and in that instant, I saw everything. The shock, the recognition. And then, the anger.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her grip tightening on her portfolio. For a fleeting second, I saw a flicker of hesitation in her gaze, like she hadn't expected to see me either. But then, her expression hardened. And just like that, it was like I was a stranger to her.

"Miss Evans," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

She sat down across from me, her posture stiff. "Mr. Sterling."

She called me by my last name, not Matt. Not the name she had once whispered under the stars, in the quiet moments when it was just us against the world.

I clenched my jaw, fighting against the sudden tightness in my chest. Evelyn had no idea what she had just done. She had unknowingly walked into my past, ripped open old wounds, and sat it down right in front of me.

I forced my expression into something neutral, though my pulse still thundered in my ears. "So," I said, flipping open her file as if I hadn't already memorized every word on the first page. "You're applying for the assistant coordinator position."

"Yes," she replied evenly. "Is there a problem?"

A problem?

Yeah. Just a decade's worth of unanswered questions and broken promises. But I didn't say that. Instead, I leaned back, studying her. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting this."

Racheal's jaw tightened, but her voice remained professional. "Neither was I.'

God, she was good. Composed and controlled. But I knew her, I knew how to read her. And beneath that carefully measured tone, she was p*ss*d. She had every right to be. I had left, I had promised to come back, and I never did. But still...

Why was she here? Why now?

I wanted to ask, wanted to demand answers. But this wasn't the time. Not yet.

So, instead, I kept my voice steady. "Tell me, Miss Evans," I said, resting my elbows on the desk, "what makes you qualified for this position?"

She shifted slightly in her seat, straightening her shoulders before speaking. "I have a degree in business administration with a focus on project management," she said evenly. "For the past few years, I've worked in multiple coordination roles, handling scheduling, logistics, and client relations."

Her voice was steady, but I wasn't listening to the words. I was watching her. She had changed, had become sharper, more guarded. The warmth I had once known in her eyes had been replaced with something unreadable.

She continued, her hands clasped neatly on her lap. "I've managed corporate events, assisted in budget planning, and worked closely with executive teams. I believe my experience makes me a strong candidate for this role."

I leaned back in my chair, letting silence stretch between us for a moment.

I wasn't sure what I had expected from her. Hesitation? A slight crack in her voice? A sign that seeing me again had rattled her. But Racheal was composed. She had built walls, unshakable walls, and I hated that I was the reason for them.

Still, I wasn't going to make this easy for her.

"So," I said, my fingers tapping idly against the desk. "You believe your experience is enough to thrive in a company like mine?"

Her jaw tightened, just slightly.

"I believe my experience allows me to thrive in any professional environment," she said, her voice smooth. "I've worked in high-pressure roles before. I'm adaptable, efficient, and committed to excellence."

D*mn. She was good.

But I wasn't done testing her. I studied her for a beat, tilting my head slightly. "And what about loyalty, Miss Evans?"

The question was loaded, we both knew it. Her fingers twitched just the slightest bit against her portfolio. But her expression didn't change.

"I'm a dedicated employee," she replied, her tone measured. "I believe in seeing things through."

I almost laughed. Seeing things through. Was that a jab at me? Reminding me that I had promised to come back for her and hadn't.

I exhaled slowly, keeping my voice neutral. "And why Sterling Enterprises?"

Another small pause. If I didn't know her as well as I did, I wouldn't have noticed it. But I did. She had to know, she had to know this was my company. Had she known before she applied? Or had she walked into this interview expecting someone else to be on the other side of this desk?

Either way, she answered smoothly.

"Sterling Enterprises is one of the most respected corporations in the country. The company's growth speaks for itself. It would be an honor to be part of such an innovative team."

Too formal, too rehearsed.

I drummed my fingers once against the desk, then nodded. "Impressive."

She didn't respond. Just watched me. Her expression unreadable.

D*mn, I wanted to break through that wall she had built around herself. I wanted to know everything. Where she had been. What she had been through, and most importantly, if she had ever missed me the way I had missed her.

But this was not the time for those questions. Not yet.

So instead, I exhaled slowly and closed her file. "We'll be in touch, Miss Evans."

She nodded stiffly and stood. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Sterling."

Then, without a second glance, she turned and walked out of the office. She was gone again. Only this time, I wasn't going to let it stay that way.