Monroe had always been a typist in her small hometown, but when her mom’s health worsened, she had no choice but to move to the city to help her. Her mom owned a little restaurant there, and while Monroe helped run it, she searched for jobs. One day, she finally landed an interview and prepared herself the night before, determined to make a good impression.
The next morning, however, she realized she had set her alarm for PM instead of AM. She rushed out of bed, skipping breakfast, and hurried out the door. After catching a taxi, she quickly realized the driver, an elderly man, was driving painfully slow.
“I’ll get off here, please,” Monroe said politely, hiding her frustration.
“We haven’t reached your stop, dear,” the man said kindly.
“I forgot something. No worries,” she said, with a forced smile.
She got out, waited for him to drive off, and waved down another taxi. This time, it was a younger driver, and she felt a sense of relief.
“Could you go any faster?” she asked nervously, checking her watch.
They were just a few blocks away from her destination when they met a traffic jam.
“Construction,” the driver muttered. “This’ll take at least an hour to clear up.”
Monroe’s heart sank. She checked her purse; she only had enough money left for a single taxi ride home, plus a bit extra to buy some groceries for her mom. Walking seemed like her only option.
“How far is Crystal Demure from here?” she asked.
“About 30 minutes on foot.”
“I can make it,” she said to herself.
After paying the driver, she started walking as fast as she could, cursing the heels she had decided to wear. By the time she finally reached the building, she was out of breath and had sweat dripping down her face. She climbed the stairs to the entrance, but on the last step, her left shoe heel snapped, throwing her off balance.
She regained her footing and entered the building, limping slightly. Approaching the receptionist, she forced a smile.
“I’m here for the interview,” Monroe said.
“I’m sorry, but the interview window has closed,” the receptionist replied, barely looking up. “We’ll let you know if there are any future vacancies.”
Monroe looked down at her watch, confused. She still had time—or so she thought. Upon closer inspection, she realized the second hand wasn’t moving.
Defeated, she left the building, removing her broken shoes as soon as she stepped outside. She felt her heart sink again, one small mistake, and everything started to go wrong. It was like a domino effect.
The long walk home seemed impossible, and to make things worse, it started raining. She rushed to a nearby shelter and waited, her spirits low.
A flashy car pulled up next to her, and the window rolled down. “Need a lift?” the man inside asked.
Monroe hesitated but nodded. “I’m headed that way,” she said, her voice flat.
Once inside, the man noticed the shoes in her hand. “Rough day?” he asked, trying to break the silence.
“Yeah,” she muttered, looking out the window.
“You can tell me about it if you want,” he offered.
For some reason, Monroe did. She spilled everything, from her mom’s illness to the missed interview. The man listened attentively, and when she mentioned the company name, his eyes lit up.
“Can I hear your resume?” he asked.
Monroe blinked. “My resume?”
“Yeah, read it to me.”
Puzzled, she complied. As she read, he began asking more about her background and experience. By the time they reached her house, Monroe felt oddly comforted.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said, smiling genuinely for the first time that day.
Just as she was about to get out, the man handed her an umbrella. “Here, I can’t let you walk in the rain,” he said with a grin. “And here’s my card. I’m Scott, the owner of Crystal Demure. I think you’d be great for the job. Call me, and we’ll set everything up.”
Monroe stared at the card in disbelief. She waved as he drove off, reading the name over and over. Smiling to herself, she walked into the house, greeted her mom, and went to bed with a sense of hope she hadn’t felt in a long time.
