Chapter 1: The First Ascent
The crisp morning air did little to settle the butterflies in my stomach. Today was the day. The interview for Sterling Innovations.
I smoothed down the skirt of my only good suit, a hand-me-down from my aunt that was a touch too big in the shoulders but nothing a carefully placed pin couldn't fix. This wasn't just a job; it was the job. My ticket to a better life for us.
The lobby of Sterling Innovations was a symphony of polished chrome and hushed efficiency. Everything gleamed, from the minimalist art on the walls to the perfectly coiffed receptionist who gave me a cool, appraising look. I announced myself, and a few minutes later, a woman emerged from a frosted glass office.
Ms. Albright. Her name alone sounded like a decree. She was impeccably dressed in a charcoal power suit, her dark hair pulled back into a severe bun, and her expression was as unyielding as a granite slab. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, swept over me, taking in every detail. My heart hammered against my ribs.
The interview was less a conversation and more an interrogation. She dissected my resume with surgical precision, each question a finely honed blade. My grades, my meager internship experience, my aspirations – nothing escaped her scrutiny. I tried to project an air of confidence, to answer each query with the poise I'd practiced endlessly in front of my bedroom mirror.
"Why Sterling Innovations, Ms. Alonzo?" she asked, her voice devoid of inflection.
"Because Sterling Innovations is a leader in its field," I began, my voice a little steadier than I felt. "And I believe my drive and dedication align perfectly with the company's ethos. I'm a quick learner, eager to contribute, and I'm not afraid of hard work."
She leaned back, her gaze unwavering. "Hard work is a given, Ms. Alonzo. We expect excellence. What makes you stand out from the dozens of other ambitious fresh graduates who walk through these doors every day?"
I took a deep breath. This was it. The moment to prove I wasn’t just another resume. "I bring more than just academic qualifications. I bring resilience. I've learned to adapt, to problem-solve under pressure, and to fight for what I believe in. My circumstances have taught me to be resourceful and to never give up. I am not just looking for a job, Ms. Albright; I'm looking for an opportunity to make a tangible difference."
A flicker, just a bare whisper of something akin to acknowledgment, crossed her face before it was gone. She asked a few more technical questions, testing my knowledge of industry software and basic market analysis. I answered them to the best of my ability, thankful for the late nights I’d spent poring over textbooks.
Finally, she closed my folder with a soft thud. "We'll be in touch, Ms. Alonzo."
My stomach plummeted. The generic dismissal. I offered a polite thank you, forcing a smile, and rose to leave. Just as I reached the door, her voice stopped me.
"Ms. Alonzo," she said. I turned. "You're hired. Report to the HR department tomorrow morning at 8 AM for onboarding. You'll be assisting in the new product development division."
A wave of pure, unadulterated relief washed over me, so potent it almost buckled my knees. "Thank you, Ms. Albright! Thank you so much!"
She gave a curt nod and then, to my surprise, a faint, almost imperceptible curve of her lips that might have been a smile. "Welcome to Sterling Innovations."
The walk home felt like floating. The city lights seemed to twinkle brighter, the usual hustle and bustle of Manila felt like a joyful symphony. I practically burst through the door of our small apartment, my heart overflowing.
"Mama! Kyla! I got the job!" I practically shouted, shedding my sensible heels at the door.
My mother, propped up in her specialized armchair in the living room, her face still bearing the lingering effects of the stroke, looked up, her eyes wide with surprise and then, slowly, a joyous tear tracked down her wrinkled cheek. She couldn't speak much anymore, but her gaze was more eloquent than any words.
Kyla, my twelve-year-old sister, was instantly there, abandoning her homework at the small dining table. "Really?! Oh my god, Ate! That's amazing!" She threw her arms around me, squeezing tight. Kyla, with her bright, inquisitive eyes and quick wit, was my constant motivation, my little shadow.
Ever since Mama's stroke two years ago, I'd taken on the role of primary caregiver and provider. Every extra shift, every sacrifice, every late night studying had been for them.
I knelt beside Mama, taking her frail hand in mine. "I got it, Ma. I told you I would. We're going to be okay. I'm going to work so hard, and we'll get you the best physical therapy, and Kyla, you can go to that science camp you wanted."
Mama squeezed my hand, her eyes glistening. Kyla, ever practical, pulled back, a thoughtful frown on her face. "So, what exactly will you be doing, Ate? Is it super fancy? Will you meet the big boss?"
I chuckled, ruffling her hair. "I'll be assisting in new product development. And as for the 'big boss,' I doubt it. He's probably holed up in some executive suite, too busy to notice a fresh graduate like me."
We spent the evening celebrating in our own way. Kyla made instant noodles – our celebratory feast – and we watched an old movie on the tiny TV, our usual routine transformed by the sheer weight of good news.
As I lay in bed later, listening to Kyla's soft breathing from the makeshift bed beside mine, a sense of quiet determination settled over me. This was just the beginning. I was ready to prove myself, to climb the corporate ladder, and to finally provide the life my family deserved.
Sterling Innovations, I was coming for you.
***
Chapter 2: The Man in the Archives
The first few days at Sterling Innovations were a blur of new faces, acronyms, and the constant hum of office activity. I learned the layout of the new product development division, memorized names, and tried to absorb every piece of information thrown my way. My desk was tucked away in a corner, surrounded by cubicles, but I didn't mind. I was here to work.
One afternoon, during my third day, I was tasked with retrieving some old market research reports from the archives, a vast, somewhat dimly lit labyrinth in the basement. It felt like a treasure hunt, albeit a dusty one.
I finally located the correct section, pulling out heavy binders filled with decades-old data. As I stacked them, a shadow fell over me.
"Need a hand with those?" a deep voice rumbled.
I jumped, nearly dropping a stack of files. Standing a few feet away was a man I hadn't seen before. He was dressed in a simple, dark t-shirt and jeans, a stark contrast to the sharp business attire everyone else wore. His dark hair was a bit disheveled, as if he'd just run a hand through it, and a faint stubble shadowed his jaw. But it was his eyes that truly captured my attention – an intense, almost piercing shade of gray that seemed to hold a world of unspoken thoughts.
He certainly wasn't one of the polished executives I'd glimpsed. He looked more like he belonged in a garage, tinkering with engines.
"Oh! Uh, no, I think I've got it," I stammered, feeling a blush creep up my neck. He was undeniably attractive, in a rugged, unconventional way that was completely unexpected in these corporate halls.
He gave a slow, assessing nod, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like a lot of dusty reading. New here?"
"Yes, I just started in New Product Development," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. My mind raced, trying to place him. A maintenance worker? A new intern from the IT department? He carried an aura of quiet authority, even in his casual clothes, that suggested he wasn't just anyone.
"Ah, the land of innovation," he mused, stepping closer. His presence was surprisingly potent, filling the space between us. I could smell a faint hint of something clean and masculine, like fresh air after a storm. "It can be… intense."
"I'm ready for it," I said, a little defensively. I didn't want him to think I was naive.
His smirk widened, revealing a flash of white teeth. "Good. Resilience is key in this place. What's your name, fresh blood?"
"Gabriella Alonzo," I replied, extending a hand. His grip was firm, warm, and sent a jolt of unexpected electricity through me. It lingered for a moment longer than strictly professional.
"Grant," he said simply, his gaze holding mine. There was an unnerving intensity in his eyes, a depth that made me feel oddly exposed. He didn't offer a last name, and I found myself wondering why. Most people at Sterling Innovations seemed to introduce themselves with their full titles.
"So, Grant," I began, pulling my hand back, feeling a strange flutter in my chest. "Do you work down here often? Are you in archives?"
He let out a low chuckle, a sound that resonated deep in his chest. "You could say I work 'down here' from time to time. And 'archives' is one way to put it." He leaned against a tall metal shelf, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement tightened the fabric of his t-shirt, revealing a glimpse of defined muscles. "Just checking on a few things. You navigating alright?"
"I think so," I said, feeling a little flustered under his direct gaze. "It's a lot to take in, but everyone's been really helpful."
"Everyone?" he raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Even Ms. Albright?"
My eyes widened. "You know Ms. Albright?" Of course he did. She was the division head. But the casual way he said her name, almost like a peer, made me re-evaluate my initial assessment of him. Perhaps he was a senior manager, despite his laid-back attire.
He simply shrugged. "She's... unforgettable." A dry wit touched his words. "Look, if you ever get lost, or need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Even if it's just directions out of this maze." He gestured around the dusty archives with a sweep of his hand.
"Thanks, Grant," I said, genuinely appreciative. "I appreciate that."
He gave me one last, lingering look, that intense gray gaze making my skin prickle, before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the archive shelves as silently as he'd appeared.
I stood there for a moment, clutching the heavy binders, feeling a strange mix of confusion and exhilaration. Who was Grant? And why did he feel so… significant?
I managed to haul the reports back to my desk, my mind replaying the encounter. His casual clothes, his direct gaze, the almost possessive way he'd looked at me. It was unprofessional, perhaps, but undeniably intriguing.
My first week at Sterling Innovations was proving to be anything but ordinary.
***
To be continued...
