Chapter 4 Being ridiculous.

And then he was gone, striding away through the crowd with purpose, the coffee stains on his suit like a brand I'd left on him.

I stood there on the sidewalk, clutching his business card, my brain trying to process what had just happened. Had I really been offered a job interview by a high-ranking executive at Morris Industries? Because I'd crashed into him like a clumsy idiot?

I looked down at the card in my hand. It was heavyweight cardstock, minimalist design, with just his name, title, and contact information in sleek, modern font. It practically screamed money and power.

The entire encounter had lasted maybe three minutes, but something about it left me feeling off-balance, like the sidewalk had tilted beneath my feet. There had been something strange in the way he looked at me – not angry, not annoyed, but... interested. As if he'd found exactly what he was looking for, which made no sense at all.

My phone buzzed, jerking me back to reality. A text from Nathan:

Meeting ended early. Back to 1:00 for lunch?

I glanced at my watch. It was 12:45 already.

On my way. You won't believe what just happened.

I tucked Bernard Jones's card carefully into my wallet and headed toward Joe's Diner, my mind spinning with possibilities. Was this the change I'd been wishing for just this morning? Or was it too weird to be legitimate?

Either way, I had a story to tell Nathan.

Joe's Diner was a retro-style establishment with red vinyl booths and black-and-white checkerboard tiles. It was our go-to lunch spot, close enough to both our offices but far enough from Apex that I rarely ran into coworkers.

Nathan was already in our usual booth by the window, his laptop open beside him. He looked up as I approached, his friendly face breaking into a smile that quickly turned to concern.

"What happened to you?" he asked, gesturing at my coffee-stained blouse.

I slid into the booth across from him. "Remember how I said I saved the Henderson presentation from disaster this morning?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the universe decided I hadn't been humiliated enough for one day." I recounted the coffee collision, watching Nathan's expressions shift from amusement to disbelief.

"Wait, wait," he interrupted as I got to the business card part. "Some random guy whose suit you ruined offered you a job?"

"An interview," I corrected, echoing Bernard's words. "And not just 'some random guy.' Chief Strategy Officer at Morris Industries."

Nathan whistled low. "Morris Industries? The tech giant? Diana, they're like... major league. They don't usually hire from small agencies like Apex."

"I know." I pulled out the business card and passed it to Nathan. "That's why it's so strange."

He examined the card, turning it over in his fingers. "Looks legit," he admitted. "But still weird. Why would he offer you an interview based on a sidewalk collision?"

The waitress arrived then, saving me from having to answer a question I was still asking myself. We ordered our usuals – cheeseburger for Nathan, club sandwich for me.

"So," Nathan said after the waitress left, sliding the card back to me. "Are you going to email him?"

I hadn't actually decided yet, but hearing Nathan ask solidified my thoughts. "Yeah, I think I am. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Um, he could be a total creep who goes around offering 'jobs' to women he meets on the street?" Nathan raised his eyebrows.

"He didn't seem creepy," I said, though I couldn't quite articulate why. Besides, Morris Industries is a major corporation, not some shady operation. I can check him out online before I email him."

Nathan shrugged, but I could tell he wasn't convinced. "Just be careful. Maybe meet in a public place if it goes to an actual interview."

"Obviously," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm not going to follow him into a windowless van."

Our food arrived, and the conversation shifted to Nathan's morning . But my mind kept wandering back to

Bernard Jones and his strange offer.

What had he seen in me? What kind of marketing position was he looking to fill? And most importantly, was this the opportunity I'd been waiting for – a chance to finally move my career forward instead of just treading water?

By the time lunch was over, I'd made up my mind. I was going to email Bernard Jones and see where this bizarre encounter might lead. I'd been wishing for change just this morning, and now change had literally crashed into me on the sidewalk. It would be foolish not to at least explore the possibility.

Back at my desk, I opened my personal email account and began composing a message to the address on Bernard's card. I wrote and deleted the first line at least five times before settling on:

Mr. Jones,

Thank you for your interest despite our unfortunate coffee collision today. I would like to learn more about the marketing position you mentioned. While I can't promise our next meeting will be coffee-free, I can assure you I'm typically more coordinated than today's encounter suggested.

I've attached my resume for your review. Please let me know if you'd like to schedule a proper interview.

Sincerely, Diana Peters

I attached my most up-to-date resume, took a deep breath, and hit send before I could overthink it further.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of emails and meetings, but my mind kept returning to that moment on the sidewalk. The way Bernard Jones had looked at me with such focus, as if everything else around us had faded away. The calm in his voice when anyone else would have been angry about their ruined suit.

There was something different about him – something I couldn't quite define.

I told myself my fascination was purely professional. Who wouldn't be intrigued by a potential career opportunity at a prestigious company like Morris Industries? But deeper down, I knew it wasn't just that.

Something about Bernard Jones himself had captured my attention in a way that few people ever had.

By the time I left the office that evening, I'd checked my email approximately twenty-seven times. No response yet. I told myself it was ridiculous to expect one so soon – he was a high-level executive, surely busy with more important things than responding to me.

Still, I kept my phone close at hand all evening, setting it on the bathroom counter while I showered and beside my plate as I ate the Thai takeout I'd picked up on the way home.

I was just about to get ready for bed when my phone pinged with a new email notification. My heart jumped as I saw the sender: Bernard Jones.

The message was brief and to the point:

Ms. Peters,

Thank you for your prompt response. Your resume is impressive. I would like to discuss the position in person. Would tomorrow at 10 AM be convenient? My office is located in the Morris Tower on 5th Avenue.

Regards, Bernard Jones

Tomorrow? That was fast. Almost suspiciously fast, a small voice in my head whispered. But the larger part of me was already imagining giving my notice to Margaret, escaping the daily grind at Apex for something bigger, better.

I typed back quickly:

10 AM works perfectly. I look forward to learning more about the position.

As I pressed send, I realized I'd need to come up with an excuse to be out of the office tomorrow morning.

A dentist appointment, perhaps? It wasn't ideal to lie, but I couldn't exactly tell Margaret I was interviewing with another company.

Later, as I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, I found myself replaying the sidewalk encounter again and again.

I told myself I was being ridiculous.