The Lost One (Lost Series Book 1) (3 page)

Three Years Later

Beep, beep.
I hear my phone go off. I groan, rolling over, and reaching out for it on the bedside table. I open my eyes a little, noticing it’s still dark out. I groan again in frustration.
Who messages this early?
Squinting at the brightness, I try to see whom the message is from through blurry eyes.

Mum: Hey, honey, good luck with the job interview today. I will call you later.

Love you!

Mum and Dad xo

P.S. Sorry, I know it’s early.

Trust Mum to message me this early. Looking at the time, I discover it’s
five a.m.
! “Are you kidding me? Come on, Mum. You knew I would be sleeping.” Feeling a little frustrated, I know Mum is working early shifts at the hospital, but she could have just rung me later.

It’s been a month since I moved to New York. I needed a change; plus, I needed to get the bad memories of my hometown out of my mind, and living there was always a constant reminder of what happened to Abby.

The anniversary of her death is coming up soon. I miss her every day and the pain is still unbearable at times. I find myself waking up crying some nights. The memory of that part of my life is always fresh in my mind, a constant reminder to never trust a guy, no matter how great he may seem.

It was our shared dream to move to New York, work and party it up while we were young. Maybe even travel around a little. We always had a fascination with Europe, especially Italy, but now it’s just me. I feel lost and alone some days
.

I have met some great people since moving here. There’s Felicity, or Flick, as I like to call her. She works at the recruitment company that I applied to when I first moved here. We clicked right away. She loves hearing me talk with my Aussie accent. My family moved to America when Abby and I were eighteen. Dad got a transfer in the Army, so we moved to Philadelphia. Dad was away most of the time, but Mum, Abby, and I settled in pretty well in our new home state. It’s just Mum and Dad at home now since Dad retired. We got our green cards and decided to stay.

Flick figured I knew nothing about New York, which I didn’t, so she took me under her wing, showing me the great restaurants, nightclubs, and the best shopping spots. I can’t believe the hot guys around. I still keep my distance, but can’t help looking.

She has been putting my name in for all the high paying jobs, which is great, although nothing has come of it yet.
Hopefully, today is my lucky day,
I think as my stomach begins swarming with butterflies at the thought of today’s interview. The meeting today is with Case Constructions, a building development company, as a Personal Assistant to the head honcho. I know there will be plenty of other worthy applicants. Here’s hoping.

Then there is Liam, smart, sexy, funny Liam. I get a little heart flutter thinking about him. We met on my first night out on the town with Flick. It was a pretty big night that night, with lots of tequila shots and dancing. Next thing I remember is waking up at home with Flick beside me in my bed. I walked into the living area and nearly died at the sight of this unknown shirtless guy asleep on my couch. Totally freaked, I ran back to my room, waking Flick up. I literally had to lift her up by her shoulders and shake her awake. While still half asleep, she proceeded to tell me how I invited
him to stay, as his place was an hour out of town. And so began the adventures of Flick, Liam, and Melodi.

Liam is a legal aid. I’m sure he has a thing for Flick, and either she is blind or just isn’t interested. When they are together, they flirt like nobody’s business; then if there is another guy who shows interest, she brushes Liam off, poor fella. I think I might need to intervene there only a little, but right now, I think I should get a few more hours sleep. Rolling over, placing my phone back on to the bedside table, and pulling my blankets up, I snuggle back into my large comfy bed.

Then the wonderful feeling of wandering off into dreamland sets in.

****

Glancing at my watch for the hundredth time, I struggle to sit still. There are still three girls to go, plus myself. There were seven of us here for interviews. Nerves are beginning to kick in. My stomach feels likes there are a million butterflies waiting to escape up my throat and out my mouth.

Case Constructions is a big, snazzy, high-rise building. It has maybe thirty floors, although, not all are Case Construction.

I’m worried I may not get off on the right floor. I really hate interviews, but I really need this job. I can’t keep relying on Mum and Dad to pay for everything, especially my nights out on the town.

When I walk into the room where the other girls are waiting, I feel all the girls’ eyes on me, kind of like they are sizing me up. I take the first seat closest to the door. That way, I am out of the line of fire from all the judgemental looks, not only toward me, but toward each other also. Some are pretty, well groomed, and are probably hoping to get the job based solely on their looks. Then there is the average Joe, who has her hair pulled back into a basic ponytail, along with her basic black pencil-skirt and red silk, button-up shirt. Okay, maybe there is only one girl like that, me. I’m your average girl; the rest are the rich bitch lookin
g type.

As each agonising minute ticks by, I watch as all the other girls go in before me, all leaving giggly and confident. S
eriously, why did I even try?

One of these other girls is sure to get this job. I can’t sit still anymore. It’s me and one other girl remaining. I’m ready to get up and pace the room, or run laps, actually. I’m not a silly girl. I know how people with companies as large as Case Constructions prefer the super models
who have the perfect face, which attracts more business for the company. I’m not saying I’m ugly. I’m happy in my own skin, and if these people aren’t happy with me, then they can get stuffed, big time.

“
Melodi White?” I hear a lady call from the doorway. I glance up; she is maybe in her thirties and has a kind face.

“Yes, that’s me.” My shaking hands reach for my folder. Nerves kicking into overdrive once again, I take a deep breath, hoping to calm myself, and then walk toward her.

I reach the doorway, and she extends her hand toward me. “Hi, I’m Helen. I’m the human resources coordinator, and I will be one of your interviewers today.” I take her hand, hoping she doesn’t notice my clammy palms. “Have you filled out your paperwork? And do you have any questions about it?”

Handing the folder over, I answer, “Hi, here is the paperwork. I didn’t have any problems, but I could have missed something. Please let me know if anything isn’t correct.” I can’t seem to calm my nerves no matter what I do. Maybe once I’m in there and the interview begins,
I might calm down.

“That’s great. Please follow me.” She turns and walks down a hallway. It’s so silent, apart from the clicking of our heels on the tiled floor. She stops, and then holds open a door for me. Walking in, my heart drops to ground
floor.

So much for my nerves settling down.
In front of me are three other interviewers. There is another lady and two men sitting behind a table, with notebooks and bottles of water in front of them, and a telephone. Helen takes her place among them. There’s a lone, daunting seat placed in front of them. I stay standing until I’m told otherwise.

“Please, be seated,” says the grumpy old man with grey hair and wrinkly skin. He must be over this whole event.

“Thank you,” I reply, taking my seat.

“Hello, Ms White,” says the other woman beside Helen. She seems very professional and an upfront type of person, but her eyes give the vibe of being just plain unkind or uncaring. I might need to steer clear of her. “I am Jenny Ford, office manager. This is Helen, the human resources manager.” Then pointing to the old man, she says, “Tim is executive assistant and beside him is Jared, chief financial officer.” She points toward the young fella on the end who looks young to be the chief financial officer. “And on telephone conference we have our CEO, Mr A
ndrews.”

“Good Morning,” I address them all in my most professional voice, trying not to sound how my insides feel. I begin to fidget, tangling my fingers together and untangling then repeat, something I do to calm myself in certain situations, and this is one of those kinds of situations.

Deep down, I’m hoping I answer their questions in a pleasing manner to them. They all greet me, and then turn their attention to making notes. What could they seriously be writing down? The questions haven’t even begun yet!

Helen takes over now. “So, please, tell us a bit about your previous employment?” she says, preparing her pen to make more
notes.

Taking a deep breath, I reply, “I worked in a law firm as personal assistant to one of the partners. I had been there for about a year before
deciding to move to New York.”

“And what we
re your sole responsibilities?”

“I assisted the partner by booking his appointments, answering phone calls, minutes for meetings, booking flights and accommodations for business trips, and preparing notes and paperwork for all meetings. These are the main things I undertook, as well as general admin duties,” I answer confidently.

For the next half hour, the questions keep coming from each of the interviewers. Answering them, I try to lighten the mood with a few little giggles and smiles here and there. All in all, it’s a very good interview. I feel very pleased with myself, although the big CEO on the phone never spoke, which I find odd. I would think he would be the one with all the questions, seeing as it could be him I end up working for.

With the interview finished, I shake their hands. “Thank you for the opportunity,” I say, turning toward
the door.

Leaving the building, I pull out my phone and call Flick. I promised I would call when I finished. It goes to her message bank. “Hey, it’s me.
Soooo, the interview went well. They will contact me in the next week to let me know the outcome, although I’m not too hopeful. Will fill you in later, catch ya.”

When Flick calls me back, I’m already home doing some cleaning. She has twenty questions, about the interview. “So, was the ever handsome CEO present?” she coos.

“No, he was on telephone conference, and even then, he said nothing,” I answer while scrubbing the kitchen counter top. I know this sounds crazy, but cleaning is my way of relaxing mentally. I know I get it from my mother;
she is a clean freak.

“Oh, well, wait till you see him. You’ll be drooling,” she laughs. She previously informed me how Mr Andrews is one sexy, God-like man, and quite the ladies’ man, out with different women on a regular basis. I myself have not even seen anything about him as I don’t keep up with the media. I prefer to read a book. Television doesn’t interest me much either. I do have one in the lounge room because I enjoy the odd movie, especially romantic and even horror or thriller. I’m a thrill seeker at heart. Although, when the scariness gets too much, I have to mute it so it doesn’t seem as bad; t
he music always makes it worse.

Throwing the scrubber into the sink, I walk to the lounge room. I love my apartment. The lounge room may be tiny, but it has a white leather corner sofa, along with polished hardwood floors throughout the entire apartment. Entering the room, there is a wall of bookshelves with my vast book collection on the right, and the television to the left with a small set of shelves where my small Blu
-ray collection lives.

“So, what’s the plan tonight, we heading out?” Relaxing into my couch, I’m hoping she says yes, only because I
wanna drown my sorrows with a few drinks. Abby’s anniversary is coming up, and I’ll have to head back to Philadelphia, which is one place I so desperately never want to go back to. Every time I do, my heart breaks all over again at the constant reminder of what happened there and the loss my family suffered. I clear my throat, trying to remove the lump that has formed there.
I won’t allow myself to wallow.
Abby wouldn’t want it.

“Yeah!
I’m totally up for it, especially after the day I’ve had. I need to unwind a little!” I hear the excitement in her voice. I can always rely on Flick; she is a loyal friend. Since I told her about Abby, she has been so supportive and understanding. I know we’ve only been friends a short while, but we just clicked like two long lost sisters who were separated at birth or something, not that she will ever replace Abby, though.

She is a stubborn girl sometimes, especially when it comes to her and boys, especially Liam. Actually, tonight might be a good opportunity to get him to come along
.

I don’t know if they’re both blind to what they’re actually doing, but whenever I bring it up to Flick, she denies it till she is blue in the face.
I think I will intervene
, I laughingly think to myself, not realising I’m laughing out loud.

“What are you laughing at?”

Oh, crap!
I don’t want her to know.
“
Oh, ahh… nothing. My mind went somewhere else, sorry.”