Blood Ink

Chapter 2: You Got It

Remi's POV

I have been jobless for three days, but I'm hoping that doesn't last much longer as I have an interview for the personal assistant job I applied for. Over the last three days, I have applied for other jobs, but I didn't feel as excited about those as I did for the PA job. I had been hoping I would land an interview and thankfully I got an email back the next day, which had me nervous.

I have never been a PA before, so I'm unsure of what to expect out of the job or what the interviewer will be looking for from me. I'm worried that although it states you don't need any specific type of skills or experience, I'm not going to get the job because they don't think I'm good enough or wouldn't be a good fit.

That thought circles my mind as I let my body soak under the hot water jets splashing against my skin. I close my eyes and tell myself to be confident in my answers and the way I carry myself, otherwise the interviewer is going to see right through me.

I switch the tap off and towel dry myself. My mind is elsewhere as I brush my teeth and get dressed in my room. I'm pulling my leg through the last sleeve of my dress pants when I hear a knock at my door.

Ava floats into the room and sits on the edge of my bed, eyeing my choice of outfit for the interview. My heart stammers in my chest when she doesn't say anything, and I gaze down at my black dress pants and white button-up with the sleeves rolled to my elbow.

“What? Does this not look good?" I rush to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, fluffing my waist-long balayage hair in the hopes it'll somehow ease my mind.

“It's not that…" Ava says as she smiles. “You look hot, Rem. They would be stupid to not hire you when you look this good."

I breathe a sigh of relief and spin on my feet to face her. “You had me scared for a second then. Besides, I'm sure you're the only one who thinks that. If it's a PA position for a singer, they won't be focused on my looks but how well I could do the job."

“Whatever you say," Ava chuckles and rests her elbows on the mattress, leaning back. “But in all honestly, you do look great. And you're going to kill this interview, I just know it. You need to be confident in yourself, okay? I know you can do this."

I smile at Ava's sweet and encouraging words as I slip on my black heels and walk across the room to collect my handbag. My fingers are shaking slightly, but I ignore them because there is no time to be nervous. As Ava said, I need to be confident in myself and what I'm capable of.

“Thank you," I smile, and Ava follows me out of the room and into the kitchen. “I need to hear that."

When I first moved into this apartment six months ago, I was amazed by how stunning it was and how safe the complex is. Considering it's L.A., I had figured Ava lived in a run-down apartment in a bad neighborhood because it's the only affordable living space with the kind of income we have.

What I wasn't expecting to see when I first walked in was a black marble countertop and cupboards with stunning white tiles and a large kitchen island. And don't even get me started on the view of the city from our living room.

I didn't understand how Ava could afford such a nice place, or how I was meant to, but she informed me that her parents are well off in the cash department and had offered to pay half of the bills, which is a crapload, and we split the other half between us. It comes out to an average of what we would have to pay if we did live in a run-down apartment, so I couldn't be more grateful for how things turned out. The only dip in the road so far was getting fired after six months.

I look over at the television to see the same Blood Ink concert playing that Ava has now seen eleven times. I roll my eyes and retrieve my water bottle from the fridge. “I don't understand why you're so obsessed with Gray Wilder. He has scandals coming out of his a*s and you think he's God's gift to this earth."

Ava chuckles as she sits on a barstool across the kitchen island from me. She rests her chin on her hand with a dreamy look in her eyes as if she's trying to think of everything she loves about Gray Wilder.

“He's amazing, Rem. You wouldn't understand because you're not a fan like I am, but he's just… different. His voice is stunning, he's so f*cking hot, and I just know he's a good person."

“Despite all the scandals?" I raise a brow.

She smiles. “Absolutely. No one seems to understand that, though."

I look down at my watch and see it's 9 a.m. If I don't leave right now, I'm going to be late. I shove my water bottle into my handbag and rush toward the front door. “I would love to stay and chat about your not-boyfriend, but I gotta go. I will text you as soon as I'm done, okay?"

“Good luck!" Ava shouts as I close the door behind me and rush to the elevator.

Once on the street, I manage to hail a taxi within a minute, much to my luck. Today is already off to a good start. I tell the driver the address for Vital Records. My right leg bounces in place as I watch the L.A. scenery pass by me. I try to focus on the people walking by, noting if someone is walking their dog, if a group of girls in their 20s are doing the 'hot girl walk' trend, or if someone is willing running for exercise in this dry heat.

I swallow hard when I hear the GPS announce that we are one turn away from Vital Records. My heart hammers in my chest as I pay the driver and step out into the warm L.A. sun, wincing as the hot sun rays attack my skin. Maybe wearing long pants and a button-up shirt wasn't the best idea, but I didn't know what else was appropriate to wear to an interview like this.

After taking a minute to gather myself, I walk into the foyer. I immediately spot an older woman with blonde hair sitting behind the front desk. I ask her where the interview is being held and she directs me to a hallway and says to wait in the last room on the right.

I take in how sleek the inside of the foyer is. There is floor to ceiling glass windows surrounding the entire bottom floor, making the gray tiles sparkle under the morning sunshine. Multiple people walk by talking into their phones or scrolling through an iPad or a stack of papers. I feel out of my element in a place like this. The confident glow I had this morning begins to fade as I walk into the interview room.

Nerves rake through my body when I see at least thirty other people sitting in the large room. Some of them turn to look at me, their judging eyes roaming my body, as I walk to an empty seat. Now I'm starting to doubt whether I even have a chance of getting this job. How am I meant to compete with this many people?

I sit silently doubting myself the entire time people are being called in for their interviews. I try to tell myself to calm down and that everything will be okay, but I manage to somehow ignore that advice and continue my downward spiral.

The room to the interviewer's office opens. “Remi Jones?"

My head snaps up at the sound of my name and I now realize I'm the only person left sitting in the room. I take a deep breath and shakily stand to my feet. “That's me."

The tall woman gives me a warm smile and I follow her into the office. I'm too nervous to admire the stunning room because I'm too focused on my breathing and what I'm going to say to this woman.

“It's nice to meet you, Remi Jones. I'm Lucy May. Please, take a seat."

I nod and do as she says. I sit down across from her desk on a leather seat. The nervous energy coursing through my veins has me readjusting myself in my seat because I can't seem to get comfortable.

“It's a pleasure to meet you." I manage to squeak out and mentally punch myself for sounding so nervous and unsure of myself. “Thank you for taking the time to interview me."

“I'm looking forward to it." Lucy shifts in her seat, looking down at a piece of paper in front of her which I presume has the interview questions on it. I have never wished so hard to have the ability to read something from a distance. “Let's get started."

I'm a nervous wreck the entire time Lucy is asking me questions about my past experiences and what I think a great personal assistant needs to do for their client. As the interview goes on, I find myself starting to feel comfortable with Lucy as she is very nice and lets me talk, even if I'm talking a little too long. I can't shake the nerves, but it dulls in comparison to how I felt walking into the room.

“And final question," Lucy says as she clasps her hands together on the desk. “Are you able to separate work and personal life?"

I nod without hesitation. I knew this answer would come up because of course the company hiring a PA wouldn't want them getting mixed up with the client, especially romantically. I feel as though that's basic knowledge. No matter who you're working for, whether they're the most famous person in the country or if they're a nobody, you never get involved with them. Even I know that.

“Absolutely," I say, nodding my head. “I'm the type of person who strives to remain professional in the position I have because I wouldn't want to upset the flow of the work-life. I understand what is required of me in any position and I do my absolute best to adhere to that."

A slow smile spreads across Lucy's lips and nods her head. “I like the way you think, Remi. Your work ethic and confidence are exactly what I'm looking for in this position. Because it's not going to be an easy job, but I have a good feeling about you. I know you can handle this and you're what I've been looking for."

She stands to her feet, and I immediately follow suit, my heart pounding in my chest. Lucy extends her hand across the table, and I gingerly wrap my hand around hers, accepting the handshake.

“Congratulations, Remi Jones. You're going to be the personal assistant for my client Gray Wilder."