Chapter 30 Self–Doubt
“Ms. Thompson, it really is you.” Cheryl’s voice was bright with fake excitement as she looked me over. “I thought I recognized you from behind. What are you doing sitting out here alone?”
If Cheryl was here, that likely meant Charles was nearby as well. Sure enough, she reached behind her and pulled him forward before I could even finish the thought.
“Charles, look. It’s Ms. Thompson,” she said sweetly.
Charles watched me calmly, his expression unreadable, as if I were a complete stranger.
Cheryl tugged at his arm and cooed, “Oh, Charles, she was your wife. The least you could do is say hello.”
Her words instantly made me uncomfortable.
I was about to make an excuse to leave when Charles turned to Cheryl. “Let’s go. Weren’t you in a hurry?”
“No rush now,” Cheryl said, grabbing my hand with a friendly smile. “I got my eye on a limited edition necklace yesterday, and Charles insisted on buying it for me.
“You should join us, Ms. Thompson. You can tell me if it’s worth it–it’s over ten million.”
I looked down, that familiar bitterness rising in my chest.
I had to beg Charles for that money, swallowing my pride, dressing how he wanted, and enduring every bit of his humiliation. Meanwhile, Cheryl could receive jewelry worth tens of millions from him with just a simple, casual remark.
I knew I was not in Cheryl’s league, but I couldn’t help that twinge of jealousy.
I slipped my hand free and said in a flat tone, “You two go ahead. My fashion sense is terrible anyway. I’d just be in the way.” Cheryl’s smile faltered as she noticed the resume in my hand. “Are you job hunting, Ms. Thompson?”
I quickly moved the resume behind my back, staying silent.
Charles gave a low, mocking laugh that said everything.
I bit my lip, humiliation washing over me all over again. I remembered all too well what Charles had said about me being good for nothing but eating. In his mind, I was completely useless.
“Enjoy your shopping,” I said stiffly. “I have things to do.”
“Wait!” Cheryl caught my arm, turning to Charles. “Why don’t you hire Ms. Thompson as your secretary? I bet she’d be perfect for the job.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, really,” I said, waving my hands dismissively. “I actually already have a job lined up.” Cheryl’s face showed feigned concern. “Oh, you did? What kind of work is it? Is it a good opportunity?”
I pressed my lips together, unsure how to respond to her question.
Charles let out a low chuckle, watching me with obvious disdain.
I gripped my resume tighter and said, “It’s a really good job, truly. Please don’t worry about me.”
Cheryl seemed relieved. “Well, Charles’s team has an open secretary spot. It was supposed to be mine, but since you were looking for a job, I thought of you. But if you’re all set, no big deal.”
“Thanks, but I’ve really gotta run,” I said before quickly crossing the street.
Sometimes I found Cheryl’s enthusiasm a bit overwhelming, and honestly, I’d never felt entirely comfortable talking with her.
*****
My whole morning was a total waste, so I camped out at an internet café that afternoon and blasted out resumes.
I dragged myself back to the villa, completely wiped, and face–planted onto the bed.
Bella came to find me, urging me once more to bring Charles his lunch.
The memory of yesterday’s awkward encounter made me refuse immediately.
With Cheryl around, he wasn’t about to go hungry. Me showing up with a meal would just look sad and desperate. Seeing me lying idly on the bed, Bella couldn’t help but sigh. “With that kind of attitude, another woman is bound to steal him away from you sooner or later.”
The thought was almost laughable. Charles was never mine to lose.
But knowing that didn’t stop the sharp pang I felt when I remembered seeing them together in town.
*****
That evening, I studied up for the jobs I’d applied for. I refused to accept that I couldn’t even land a basic, normal job.
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Chapter 30 Self Doubt
Reality, of course, had other plans. Two days passed without a single interview request. My inbox was a barren wasteland.
I started to seriously doubt my own worth.
Diana offered her consolation. “It’s not you. You’re just overqualified. They probably think you’d be wasted in that position.” I was tom between laughter and frustration. Diana certainly had her own special way of making me feel better. She added, “Just wait for me. When I make it in the entertainment industry, I’m taking you with me.”
Right after graduation, that whole scandal with Charles ruined my reputation and my chance of getting into the industry. At that time, Diana was already receiving excellent film offers and had a bright future ahead, but her stepmother sent her abroad. It was presented as an opportunity for further study, but in reality, she was being forced out of the family. By the time she returned, there was no longer any place for her in the entertainment industry.
Talking with Diana for over an hour greatly improved my mood. It was clear that my life wouldn’t be the same without her. As for Charles, he was just a man who didn’t have feelings for me, and I saw no reason to grieve over someone like that.
With my best friend’s encouragement, I woke up the next day feeling completely recharged and motivated.
After submitting applications at an internet café all morning, I decided to browse the job market in the afternoon. As I was heading there, one of the companies I had applied to that morning called and asked if I could come in for ant interview immediately.
A wave of relief washed over me–it felt like my luck was finally changing.
The position was for a marketing and sales role.
I followed their directions to a large shopping center where the interviews were being conducted in an open area on the second floor.
When I arrived, several candidates were still waiting in line to meet with the two interviewers–a woman and a man.
Since they were hiring more than ten people, and there weren’t many applicants, the competition seemed manageable. I began to feel optimistic about my chances.
To my disappointment, everyone ahead of me was offered a position on the spot. When it was my turn, the female interviewer cut me off mid–introduction and said I wasn’t right for the role.
The rejection weighed heavily on me, but I gathered myself enough to politely ask why I hadn’t been selected.
The interviewer looked at me with clear disdain. “Why would a former wealthy socialite want a job like ours? Don’t waste
our time.
“If you want to slum it for a while, you should find somewhere else to play. Don’t take jobs from people who actually need them. Some of us have real bills to pay,” she said mockingly.
Without another glance in my direction, she called out to the others, “Next!”
The next candidate immediately pushed past, forcing me to step aside.
For a moment, I just stood there, feeling completely lost.
Everyone in Jelasburg knew about my family’s former wealth and status. But when did it become unacceptable for someone from a privileged background to do ordinary work?
The interviewer’s prejudice was painfully obvious. Though everything in me wanted to argue, I knew it would change nothing–they’d already made up their mind about me.
I turned to leave with a heavy sigh, only to spot a familiar figure in my peripheral vision. My heart leaped into my throat, and I immediately ducked my head, quickening my pace to escape unnoticed.
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