Chapter 3

After I got home, a notification popped up.

Chloe had pulled Ethan and me into a group chat, opening with a wall of text.

The gist: "Emma, what you said today really hurt, but I don't blame you."

"I looked up that card of yours—you can buy a convincing replica online for a few hundred dollars."

"We've been friends for years, and I genuinely don't want to see you go down the wrong path. Drop the vanity, focus on self-improvement, okay?"

Below that, she'd attached a link to an internal referral form.

Ethan added: "Emma, Chloe called in favors for you everywhere. Just fill out the form."

I accidentally tapped the document open and saw the position listed. I laughed.

"So you need to pull strings just to refer someone for a front-desk receptionist at Meridian?"

Chloe replied fast.

"Well, what else can I do?"

Her tone was half-accusatory:

"I'd love to recommend you for something better, but you've done nothing for the past three years—no real work experience to speak of. If you want to get into Meridian and be our colleague, a receptionist role is the only entry-level option."

I was still puzzled when Ethan sent a sighing emoji.

"I let myself get fooled by the way you carry yourself now."

He sent several photos.

Every single one showed "me" sprawled on a couch playing video games, the floor littered with takeout containers.

Ethan:

"If Chloe's friend didn't happen to be your landlord, I'd almost have believed you'd reinvented yourself over these three years."

"Even running into us today—you staged the whole thing, didn't you? Just so I'd think you'd made it."

"Tomorrow at eight. Be on time for your interview."

It didn't take me long to piece together what had happened. I almost laughed from sheer disbelief.

"One of you should see a therapist about projecting this much malice onto other people's lives. The other one should get his eyes checked—and maybe a brain scan while he's at it."

I sent the message, left the group, and blocked them both.

Slept like the dead.

Monday. Eight-thirty in the morning.

The night before, my assistant Sienna had messaged:

"Ms. Emma, the welcome area in the ground-floor lobby has been set up. The CEO will come down personally at nine to receive you."

I always arrive early.

The moment I stepped into Meridian Group's soaring atrium lobby, a familiar voice called out behind me.

"Emma?"

Chloe approached, coffee in hand, wearing an I-knew-it smirk.

"You came."

"You left the group so fast last night, I thought you were mad. But here you are after all."

Ethan trailed behind her, his gaze lingering on my face and tailored suit for several seconds, his expression complicated.

"Emma, with how you look now—if I brought you around to meet my friends, they'd be impressed. You'd really make me look good."

He paused.

"But my parents prefer girls with ambition. If your work ethic were even half as good as Chloe's, I wouldn't have been going back and forth like this."

Chloe pressed her lips together—part reluctance, part satisfaction.

She grabbed my hand. "Come on, I'll take you to the interview."

I pulled free.

"Out of the way. I'm here to work."