Chapter 2 - The Taste of Defeat
The basement apartment was freezing when Ellie returned.
The radiator hissed and clanked, but it did little to combat the draft coming through the high, narrow windows that looked out onto the concrete alleyway. Ellie hung the borrowed navy blazer carefully on a plastic hanger. She felt a deep, hollow ache in her chest as she looked at it.
"Ellie? Is that you?"
Her younger brother, Leo, poked his head out from the tiny kitchen. He was nineteen, a brilliant kid who had been forced to take a gap year from college to work at a warehouse after their mother passed away. His hands were covered in dry, gray dust from his shift, and his eyes were full of hope.
"How did it go? Did you crush it?" Leo asked, offering her a faint, encouraging smile.
Ellie tried to smile back, but her face crumbled. She walked over and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder as she finally let the tears flow.
"I didn't even get to the interview, Leo," she sobbed, her voice muffled by his worn sweatshirt. "I was late. They wouldn't let me up."
Leo held her tight, his own expression darkening with worry. "Why were you late? You left two hours early."
Through hiccuping breaths, Ellie told him about Walter, the aggressive fruit vendor, and the twelve dollars. She didn't mention Julian Hale. The fact that the billionaire grandson was the CEO of the very company she had tried to interview for felt like a cruel cosmic joke, one she wasn't ready to share.
Leo quieted down, rubbing her back gently. "You did the right thing, El. You always do. Mom would have been proud of you."
"Being good doesn't pay the electric bill, Leo," Ellie whispered, wiping her eyes. "We have twenty-four dollars left in our joint account. I have no transit money left on my card after today. I don't know what we're going to do."
"We'll figure it out," Leo said firmly, though his voice lacked conviction. "I can ask for more overtime at the warehouse. We'll get through this."
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of misery. Ellie sat on their lumpy thrift-store sofa, refreshing job boards on her cracked laptop, applying to anything and everything—receptionist jobs, data entry, night shifts. The rejection emails from previous applications seemed to pile up in her inbox like physical blows.
At 4:00 p.m., her phone rang.
It was an unknown number. Ellie hesitated, then picked it up, expecting a telemarketer or a collections agency.
"Hello? Is this Ellie Carter?" a polished, professional female voice asked.
"Yes, this is Ellie."
"Hello, Ms. Carter. My name is Victoria Vance. I am the Director of Human Resources at Hale Meridian Group."
Ellie's heart stopped. "Ms. Vance? I... I am so sorry about this morning. I know punctuality is—"
"Ms. Carter, please do not apologize," Ms. Vance interrupted, her tone surprisingly warm, almost deferential. "There was a massive administrative oversight on our part this morning. Your interview should never have been canceled. In fact, we would like to invite you back to our offices tomorrow morning at nine o'clock."
Ellie blinked, convinced she was hallucinating from hunger. "Tomorrow? But... I thought the candidate pool was locked."
"The situation has changed," Ms. Vance said smoothly. "We are highly interested in your profile. A private car will be sent to your address at 8:15 a.m. tomorrow to bring you to the office. Will that be acceptable?"
"A... a private car?" Ellie stammered.
"Yes. We look forward to seeing you, Ms. Carter. Have a wonderful evening."
The line went dead.
Ellie stared at her phone in absolute disbelief. She looked up at Leo, who was watching her with his mouth slightly open.
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"What was that?" Leo asked.
"I think..." Ellie whispered, her mind racing back to the dark gray eyes of the billionaire who had knelt on the sidewalk to tend to his grandfather. "I think the grandson didn't forget."
