Hired My Exs Sister as Wife by Ms Chiamaka

CHLOE'S POV

I stand in front of the tall building, staring at it in awe. It looks so beautiful and clean-I can almost smell how fresh it is from outside. A cleaner walks out to tidy the front, and I wave at her. She smiles and waves back, which makes me smile too.

I look up at the words on the building: CLARKE CORPORATION.

I still can't believe I was called here. Of course, my school results are amazing. No one would want to reject someone like me.

I take a deep breath, gather my confidence, and walk inside. The place is so busy. Everything looks fancy-glass walls, expensive floors, and many elevators moving up and down. I try to hide how excited I am.

I mean, this is Mr. Clarke's company! He's kind, handsome, rich, and famous. He even loves kids and helps orphans through his charity work. He's every woman's dream.

I keep walking until I see a long line. My heart drops a little. I'm wearing black stiletto heels, and my feet already hurt. My black long-sleeve shirt isn't helping with the heat either. Even the air conditioner doesn't feel cold enough.

This is my first job interview-actually, my first job application ever. I always planned my life: study hard, get good grades, and succeed. My A-levels? Five A's. That's not something you see every day. I believe they want smart people. Well, here I am.

"Chloe Jones," someone calls from the other end of the line.

That must be me. I step out of line confidently. Some people look at me, and I even hear someone compliment my perfume-thanks, L'Oréal Paris.

As I walk toward the interview room, I pause, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.

"You've got this, Chloe," I whisper, then smile and enter.

"Good afternoon, Miss..." The man glances at my file. "...Chloe Jones." He smiles. "I'm Mr. Philip," he says, offering a handshake.

He looks like he is in his fifties. He still has all of his hair especially the front, a little bit gray. If his belly didn't shoot out, I am sure I would have mistaken him to be a thirty year old man .

"Thank you for calling me in," I say, trying to stay calm not showing how excited I am.

"Your file is really impressive, Miss Jones," he says with a grin. "Five straight A's in your A-levels-that's amazing."

"I know," I say proudly.

He keeps reading. "A Master's in Computer Science from MIT. Very impressive."

"Thank you, sir." I blush.

"So, how old are you?" he asks, curiosity full in his voice.

"I'm 28," I answer, placing my hand on my chest.

"Nice. And what do your parents do?"

"My mom owns a restaurant, and my dad is a banker."

His eyes light up. "Your mom wouldn't happen to own 'Eat With Mrs. Jones,' would she?"

"Yes!" I say excitedly. It feels so good to hear someone knows my mom's restaurant. She worked really hard for it. I am so proud of her.

"I love her food," he says with a big smile.

"Thank you," I reply with pride.

He looks at my file again, this time with a confused expression. I start to feel nervous.

"Is something wrong, sir?" I ask.

"Miss Jones..." he says, nervously with a small sigh. "There's no mention of any social activities here."

Oh no. Social activities? My mom warned me about this social activities stuff. I never joined clubs, sports, or school trips-I was too focused on my studies. I really hoped that won't be a problem in the future.

And I am in that future now.

"I'm sorry, Miss Jones, but we'll have to turn you down," he says kindly with a reassuring smile. "Your qualifications are great. I'm sure another company will hire you."