Secretly Loving You's

Ch 1 - First Meeting

This is my twelfth experience in a job interview. Although not the first experience, but still undeniable, for several days I had difficulty concentrating. I have read various articles. The practice of talking in front of a mirror has been done, but all of that still does not reduce the nervousness lodged in the chest.

Talking in front of people becomes a frightening specter. I would rather work behind the scenes than face to face with a lot of people. That's why I chose this position. Back office in a financial services company. Of course I can't miss the employee selection process. One of them is an interview.

My right hand started sweating. Gloves feel damp. Every pull of speed, the closer I got to the goal. Sweat grains began to decorate the temples, making hair, - which I painstakingly arranged neatly into limps. The sun cannot be compromised.

Fate lives in the suburbs. Can not use online taxi services because of the problem of too far distance. I just hope I'm still given a chance to fix myself, before my turn comes.

Nervousness, anxiety, lack of confidence, confusion blend into one. Lips do not stop mumbling, convincing and entertaining themselves to stay calm, but the shadow of a tense interview can not be lost.

I have dozens of job applications. I've done dozens of tests, but always failed. I always didn't pass the qualification. My only weakness is one in the final interview.

This time too. This is a umpteenth interview. The shadow of previous failures made me even more pessimistic. Can I get accepted for work this time?

Of the dozens of applications I submitted, none came from outside the city. Being an only child is the main reason. My parents don't want to be far away from me.

The distance between the house and the company I am applying for is currently around 40 kilometers. The company was located in the city center, while my house was on the outskirts. I left an hour early.

That afternoon I rode the road at 60 km/h. The closer the city center, the more traffic. Hustle and bustle of vehicles passing by, puff of smoke and the sound of honking horns. Traffic on the road is very busy. Realizing the goal was almost in sight, making my heart pound even tighter.

In no less than ten minutes, the building began to be seen. I passed Gajah Mada Street and began to enter the Gajah Mada Square area. In the city of Jember, the area is quite well known strategic for business.

There are several dozen shophouses lined up almost uniformly. The shophouses are mostly occupied by financial service providers such as banking, insurance, pawnshops and cooperatives.

I'll take a look, to see the building I'm looking for. My heart was pounding faster when I saw the red building with the red bird wingspan logo.

Seeing the building alone has made me sweat cold, let alone enter and be interviewed directly by the leader in it?

Not wanting to think too much, I slowly pushed the bike and parked it right in front of the building.

There were a dozen motorcycles parked there. Whether it's an employee motorbike or a job applicant like me.

"You want to interview Ma'am?" The sound of a grown man was quite surprising. I quickly turned my head and saw the man in the brown uniform. At first I thought it was a police officer, but as soon as I read the badge name on my chest, I realized that the man in his late 30s was a security man.

"Yes sir" I replied while still trying to park the bike.

"Let me help Ma'am." Without waiting for approval, the security pack immediately tidied up the motor and made it parallel to the other motor.

"Please Mbak, follow me" he said again in a polite tone. Without saying much, I followed him.

The building has three floors, of which the first floor is devoted as a service area while the second and third floors are for employees.

Step by step makes me nervous. I thought the interview would be on the first floor, but in fact, security took me to the third floor. The higher the building, the higher the occupant position. Realizing that, it made me sweat more and more cold. Stomach heartburn suddenly. While the urge to vomit began to be unstoppable.

"Ehm, yes sir. Thank you." Thank you." I sat with my legs trembling. My illness began to recur. Stage fright that is difficult to cure.

Stomach heartburn, feet knocking on the floor involuntarily while teeth begin to crack.

"Drink Ma'am?" the voice diverted his mind. I saw Mr. Security pushing a basket of mineral water. I shook weakly.

"Don't be afraid Ma'am. The bosses are good. Not as scary as you think ..." The soothing voice was interrupted as soon as it rang the phone beside him. Mr. Security picked up the phone and was seen nodding his head.

"Mr Arsha, now it's your turn. Please."

***

The room was dominated by a cream color, while the curtains were red, showing the logo of the company itself. In the corner of the room there is a brown curled wooden table complete with a monitor and keyboard on it. The red chair is behind it. In one look, it can be ascertained that the table belongs to a leader.

In the middle of the room there are two long, dark red sofas with thick glass tables as a separator.

Paying too much attention to the details of the space, made me slightly forget the presence of the two men inside.

On the sofa, sat a man about 50 years old with a height of not less than 160 cm. His stature was neither thin nor fat. Unremarkable. Normal standards of Indonesians. Wear a pink stripe shirt combined with beige pants. His face looks friendly with the tip of his lips that are almost always smiling.

His friendly look was very opposite to the man standing next to him. The man looks looming. A stark contrast to the man before.

The man was no less than 180 cm tall. His body is well-built, though hidden behind a formal shirt. Wearing a long-sleeved dark red shirt combined with slimfit black pants. The suit was unable to hide her loamy muscles. I was stunned to see it.

Satisfied at the look of the body, my eyes involuntarily moved to pay attention to his face.

Deg ...

My heart seemed to have fallen somewhere. In an instant, my straight eyes had met with the coldest eyes I had ever seen. My body suddenly became stiff. The feeling of nausea came back.

The owner of the cold eyes had a beautiful face. Thick eyebrows that are raised high, nose sharp and firm, a strong jaw line, and thin lips that seem to rarely smile. What a pity, the man with the face of the serupawan must have an expression as my face.

"With Arsha's sister Nayyara Usman?" he looked at the file in his hand. Even her voice sounded very heavy and sexy, making me again have to gulp.

"Bec ...." I nodded my head as I could.

"Please sit down" he said. Makes me look like a suspect who's on death row.

***

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