The Interview (English) *completed*

Chapter 1

The tube came in and the strong air stream hit me with full force. My hair flew around, my long overcoat flapped against my legs and I pulled my scarf closer around my neck. I squeezed my body through all the other commuters and turned the music in my headphones on once I stood securely squished between people. Immediately the noise around me was gone and I could take a deep breath. The rhythmic shaking of the tube and the music around me made my thoughts wander.
I caught sight of myself in the window in front of me and sighed. I had always had a friendly face, approachable and happy, but somehow that was gone. My face was a bitter mask, a representation of my life. Even from a meter away I could see the bags under my eyes and the dry, black mess you could barely call a hair-do. Biting my already chipped lips I turned my head away, I didn't want to look at myself any longer.
I walked up the stairs, out of the tube station and immediately wanted to go back inside. Rain poured down from the grey sky and my mood hit rock bottom. What a great day. I tugged my coat closer around me and tried to ignore the water running down my face. My office building appeared in front of me, and I was glad and frustrated at the same time. I debated if standing outside in the rain was better than going inside that shithole of an office, but because I was almost late, I took a deep breath and walked inside.
In the lift I took off my scarf and tried to get my hair into a neat state again, but a look into the big mirrored wall showed that I failed. When I came to my desk, right in front of my boss's office, it was already piled high with sticky notes and file folders. I had barely sat down when Mr. Pearson stuck his head out of his office bellowing orders at me.
"Ms. Schneider, can you book me a table at that sushi bar across the street for the meeting on Saturday? And get Johnson on the phone, I need the layout for the next issue on my desk in 20 minutes. Has Camilla sent her article in yet?"
My boss was a small, overweight man in his late 50's with oily mouse brown hair and a neck shorter than his patience. When I had accepted the position as a personal assistant, I had secretly wished for a promotion to work as a journalist one day. Boy, had I been wrong...
"Ms. Schneider!"
"Yes Sir, I will get right to it."
He huffed. "You better," with that he turned around and slammed the door behind him.
"Arsehole," I whispered under my breath, still afraid he would hear me.
I did as Mr. Pearson asked, hoping the work would keep my mind occupied. As usual, I got out for my break late. I went to my favourite café around the corner and sat down in a seat next to the window. The rain was still pouring down and I watched the drops of water chasing each other all the way to the floor.
The café was calm and comfortable and the only time I enjoyed being on my own. I sat in this little protected bubble of coffee and cake aromas and...
"Hey Alexandra!"
My head spun around as I heard a familiar voice behind me. Camilla Westwood stood in the entrance of the café, dressed in a tight knee-length dress and high heels. With her hair in a neat knot, she looked like the stereotypical fashion journalist. Secretly, I admired this woman. I envied her for the life she had and all the attention she received from people in the business and even celebrities. Over the last few years, LP Magazine had become one of the leading high end lifestyle magazines and Camilla did a lot more work with high profile stars then she used to. I would never get there. I was stuck being a secretary and running errands to make her success possible.
"Hello Camilla."
She set her purse on the table and took a seat across me. "I didn't expect to see you here. Do you come here a lot?"
I should be the one saying that to her, but I bit back a comment and answered her question instead. "Yes, I spend every break here."
"God, what a weather. I hate the rain. Everything is so grey and miserable." Camilla put a loose strand of her hair back in the tight knot on her head and I slowly nodded, taking a sip of my coffee. "It also makes it so difficult to entertain the little one."
I raised a brow at her, still not sure where this conversation was going.
"My son, Milo. He is two", she smiled at me with that proud Mum look and I swallowed, hoping she wouldn't start talking about her kid now.
Thankfully she changed the topic back to work and I relaxed back into my chair.
"You know what I find funny? That Rose, Rose of all people, gets to do the interview with Idris Elba next week and the one with George Oscar as well and I am stuck doing yet another Fashion Week piece." She sighed. "I mean, Rose is a nice colleague and everything, but her style of writing really isn't what a man like Idris Elba deserves. Do you know what I mean?"
I slowly nodded. I had noticed that too, but it didn't feel appropriate for me to talk badly about Rose while I didn't even write articles. Also, it was nit-picky to say that any of the writers at LP where anything but great, otherwise Mr. Pearson wouldn't employ them.
There was an awkward silence between me and Camilla. I looked at her, expecting her to continue talking, but she didn't. I felt my face heat up and hid it behind my coffee once again. Camilla's phone cut through the silence between the two of us and I nearly let out a sigh when she answered the call.
"Hello Darling. Is everything alright?"
I couldn't hear the other side, but Camilla's annoyed face spoke for itself.
"Andrew, just tell the cleaner to come in on Friday instead of tomorrow. No, I don't have time right now, I'm having lunch with a colleague. Take care of it yourself and we'll talk about it later", she ended the call, giving me a smile. "Sorry, my husband is not used to taking care of things at the house, but since I'm flying to Paris soon, he needs to practice."
I looked at my watch and shifted nervously. "That's alright, don't worry about it. I have to get back to the office though, so..."
"Oh yes, we really should get going, but hey, why don't I walk back with you and tomorrow we do this lunch thing properly?"
I tensed, hoping Camilla wouldn't notice it, but she did.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to jump that on you like this. Just let me know whenever you are free to meet up again," she laughed and stood up, grabbing her purse
I nodded and quickly got up as well. "I will. It was really nice talking to you."