Chapter 5 Joy in a bit

I race toward the manager's office with Sandra right behind me. I burst into Gabriel's office. He stares at me like I've lost my mind and gives Sandra a questioning look.

"I have many questions as to why you two ran into my office like you were being chased by a herd of sheep, but I'll let you explain," Gabriel says with a frown.

"I did it!!" I blurt out.

"She did it!" Sandra yells.

"Did what, April? Finally, overcome your fear of rats?" Gabriel smirks.

"What? No, Gabe, I got the job at Vaughn Industries!" I say, laughing. Gabriel hates being called "Gabe." I use it to tease him often, and it always works.

Gabriel jumps out of his chair, picks me up like a child, and laughs loudly.

"I knew you could do this! I'm so happy for you-and for the record, my name isn't Gabe," he says with a smile. But then his smile fades.

"What's wrong, Gabriel?" I ask.

"That means you'll have to quit your job here. We're going to miss you. I know I will," he says.

"Me too," Sandra adds.

I hadn't realized that until now. I've worked here for a full year and had an amazing time. I've met wonderful people.

"I'll do my best to come around whenever I can," I say with a smile.

"Please do. You are always welcome at the Tavern, anytime, any day. You have a family here, and I want you to know we support you in every way," Gabriel says.

Hearing those words makes me smile so widely. We do a group hug as tears of happiness flood my eyes.

Gabriel drives me home as a sort of send-off. I arrive home just in time to break the news to Samantha and Mum. They both smother me in hugs. Mum asks Gabriel to stay for dinner, but he declines because he still has some work to do at Traven. We eat and chat happily for the first time since Dad died.

The next day, I resume work at Vaughn Industries as early as possible to make a good impression. A week goes by quickly. Working as an Executive Assistant here has been an experience unlike any I've had before. The people are friendly, and working with such a high-level company has exposed me to things I never dreamed of learning on my own.

Then everything changes.

One day, the receptionist tells me someone wants to meet me in Conference Room Six.

"Is there a problem?" I ask.

"I really don't know. This is all the information I was given," she replies before returning to her work.

My hands begin to tremble. Who could it be? Did I get into trouble? These questions flood my mind as I take the elevator to the fiftieth floor. I arrive at the door and take a huge breath before walking in.

The person I see waiting for me is the last one I expected. I almost collapse.

"It's you-the homeless woman I saw on the day of the screening process," I say, bewildered.

"Correct, April. It is me. Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Olivia Vaughn, mother of Timothy Vaughn," she says coolly and professionally.

"How? What's going on?" I manage to ask, gasping.

I'll answer all your questions, April. Please, take a seat first," she says. I sit, pinching myself to make sure I'm not dreaming.

"The truth is, I intentionally dressed that way to test the applicants. I wanted to see who was kind enough to help. I needed to know what kind of woman I'd bring into my son's life," Olivia explains.

"Your son? What does Mr. Timothy have to do with any of this?" I ask, surprised.

"He has everything to do with this, my dear April. But before I explain further, let me tell you a story."

She continues, "I was diagnosed with end-stage Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD). The doctor gave me six months to live. Two months have already passed. I know I'm going to die-but I'm worried about leaving my son, Timothy, alone. He might seem tough and mature, but he's still my sweet boy. His father died years ago, and now I'm about to leave him too."

"So, I made it my dying wish to see him married. He's too busy to find a wife, so I decided to find someone for him. I created the job offer, invited many women to apply, and disguised myself to see who had a kind, gentle heart-to find someone who could care for my son. You passed the test with flying colors."

"So wait-you're saying the job offer was just a setup? And I was only chosen because I passed your little test?" I say, shocked and disappointed.

"Correct. But let me cut to the chase: I want you to marry my son, Timothy. It will be a contract. I've already prepared the papers. Once you sign, you marry my son. And of course, you'll be compensated generously."

I ran a background check on your family. I know you're struggling-hospital bills, college loans, actual loans, and more. If you marry my son, you'll have more than enough to support your family, especially your sister. She'll start college within a year. You'll get a car of your choice, live in the Vaughn mansion, and get promoted to any position you want."

Before I can respond, she adds,

"Oh, and if you sign and then try to separate from my son-I'll make sure you and your family are thrown in jail to suffer for the rest of your lives. So choose wisely, my dear April. What do you say, sweetheart?"

Her tone is cold. She means every word. I feel like my world has just turned upside down. What have I gotten myself into?