Billionaire's Ex-Wife ✓

IV. I'm Vivian

"There. Better?" Brody asks, pulling the strap down to adjust it before giving himself a clap of satisfaction.

I open my mouth in awe, momentarily, "Much," I said, moving in place with comfort. I smile, "Thank you." I turn towards Gianni, "Can I have her back now?"

Gianni sat down, "Nah. He-" she stupid head! Don't you see her bow "will only distract you." Gianni bounces his leg, causing Marisa to giggle while clapping her hands. If Marisa is happy over there, there is no sense in me forcing her back into the carrier.

"Victoria-" holy crap, should I correct her, "Why did you bring your baby to an interview?" the lady asks.

I opened my mouth, but Brody cut me to the chase. "I think it's so strong for you to bring your baby here," he said, placing his chin on his knuckles. "Must be rough being a single mother." He sighs, placing a hand on his chest, "I'm a single father, so I can definitely relate."

I didn't know what happened, but he suddenly slammed his hands on the table and stood up. "You should get the job."

"Are you crazy?" the woman finally threw her nail filer down, "She is unqualified."

"She graduated from Pandora Academy, Bitca," Gianni said, smiling at Marisa.

"Becca. My fucking name is Becca." She slaps one palm on top of the other. I wonder where the professionalism is in this room. "And her graduating from Pandora is what got her through that horribly painted door."

"I like the color," Brody stated.

"You're in HR for a reason, Brody. We didn't hire you for your taste," Bitca snapped. Bitca, that name fits her better than Becca.

"You didn't hire me at all, and for the last time, I'm in the advertisement department. The person who is forced to promote those things you called designs."

Becca chuckles and leans back ever so slightly. She grasped a handful of her waterfall hair and began tying it up. "Someone holds my damn earrings because I'm about to flip the wig!" A slight southern accent arises.

Brody gasped and held onto his head.

Gianni used the pen and began tapping it on the table, pretending it was a hammer. "Bitcha...Baldy...Sit down. You're scaring the potential candidate."

They sat down. "Did he just call me Baldy...again?"

It seems that Gianni is on top of the ladder in this room. "Victoria-" oh lord, should I correct him, "Your-" and I didn't speak fast enough, "resume is indeed impressive, but the only thing that stands out is your educational background. Everything else isn't as interesting," he was brutally honest.

I held my breath as my hands clenched together, getting ready for another reject. Biting on my lower lip, I mentally told myself to be strong. Going home with my head hung low isn't the end of the world. At least I know I tried.

"You do understand that your graduation at one of the most prestigious high schools can only take you so far, right?"

I nodded.

"And not pursuing a higher degree will only create a wall for your future."

I look up from the white tile floor. "I disagree," I spoke up for the first time. Gianni arched a brow, "A slip of paper should not be the determining factor for my experience."

"You have no experience in fashion," Becca stated in a dull voice, scribbling down information about me.

"Because no one is willing to give me a chance to gain that experience." I inhale a deep breath, "For the past year, I've been going to hundreds of interviews, and I notice a pattern. Do you guys want to know what it is?"

Becca stopped writing and looked up, matching Gianni and Brody's intense stares. There were chains wrapped around my body, preventing me from motioning from breathing.

"Everything they said led to one thing. I should go back and pursue a higher degree, a better education. It's as if everyone agrees that a piece of paper represents my knowledge, who I am, and my work ethic. They didn't spare me a single chance to prove to them that I'm worthy, that I belong. That I'm more than what's written on a damn piece of paper."

It's been there a while now that this type of feeling escapes from me. I'm angry at the people in front of me, the people who used to sit in front of me. Hell, I'm mad at that damn wig that refuses to stop flapping.

Flap.

Reject.

Flap.

Reject.

Flap. Flap.

Reject. Reject.

Flap. Flap. Flap.

Reject. Reject. Reject.

White knuckles from clenching my fist too hard, and gritted teeth, I stood up. "I don't need this. I don't need to stay here for another half an hour so you guys can hot-n-cold me. Say one good thing about my resume only to reel it back in with an insult." I was at my breaking point. "So, let's not waste any more time. Give me my baby!" I bark at Gianni.

Immediately, he stood up and handed me Marisa. I slip her into the baby carrier, "You're right, my shoes are horrible, but so are those-" I tried to come up with an insult, but nothing came out, "Damn it!" I screamed. Gianni leans back in a shocking look. "You look good. Everything about you is handsome!"

He smiled and sat down, crossing his legs as if he is on top of the world. Well, he does play the part of a wealthy-looking man. In a sense, he reminds me of Liam, which makes me hate him.

I lean down, towards Gianni, causing him to hurry back. "My baby is a female-" I point at the bow, "see."

He didn't respond, so I closed our distance. "I said, see?" My voice was quite lethal as if I age backward into my youth when I was running around the mansion and ordering the workers.

Quickly, he nodded as he clutched onto his seat.

I stood up straight, "Good," I said, slowly backing away with their stares still on me. "I'm leaving. Call me... Don't call me...I don't give a double o-" I cover Marisa's ears, "shit."

When the door opened, I stepped out only to walk back in. "Brody?" He sat up straight, "There is a better wig store in the 3rd street. Go there," I stated. He nodded before I left the room, not excusing the sassy hair flipping.

I stop walking and turn back around, feeling my cheeks redden. "By the way! I'm Vivian! Not Veronica! Not Vicky! Not Victoria! Not Valery! Vivian! You cannot call me by other names." I turn around but turn back, "Unless you're paying me." I heard some snickering sound, but it was quickly covered-up by a cough. "Thank you for your time. Goodbye!"

Once the door behind me closes, I shove my face into my hands. "Oh, what did you just do?"