Chapter 2 UNEXPECTED CHANGES

CALLIOPE

"Seriously?" I shout, incredulous, my frustration spilling over. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

His eyes dim as he takes in my drenched clothes. "Oh God, I didn't mean to-are you okay?" His voice is smooth, with a hint of a charming accent I can't quite place. He steps closer, his eyes widening in concern.

"I'm just peachy!" I snap, trying to shove down the anger bubbling within me. "You know, aside from being completely soaked, thanks to you. I was on my way to a very important job interview."

"I really didn't mean to," he insists, running a hand through his tousled flaxen hair. "Let me make it up to you."

I roll my eyes. "You can't just magically make this better."

But he doesn't seem deterred. "No, really. I can help you." He gestures to the line of boutiques across the street, the kind of place where the dresses probably cost more than my monthly rent. "I can buy you something to change into. It's the least I can do, right? I mean, you can't walk into an interview looking like that."

I stare at him, my heart still racing, part of me wants to refuse, to brush him off, but another part-a tiny, hopeful part-thinks maybe this can all be fixed. After all, I can't show up looking like a drowned rat.

"Why would you want to help me?" I ask, suspicion creeping into my voice.

He shrugs, an easy smile creeping onto his face. "I don't know, maybe I'm just a nice guy? Or maybe I just like your spirit. You seem... determined." He leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "And honestly, I find that attractive."

I raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Charming and flirty. Great combination, but I'm really not interested."

He holds up his hands in surrender, a playful glint in his eyes. "No harm in trying, right? Come on, I promise I'll get you something that makes you look stunning."

I look down at my watch again-9:20 AM. If I want any chance at making it to this interview, I'll have to make a decision fast.

"Fine," I huff. "But I don't have time for this."

"Perfect! Let's go!" He takes my elbow gently, guiding me across the street toward the boutique.

As we enter, the plush carpet feels like a cloud beneath my feet, a stark contrast to the cold, wet pavement I just left behind. I glance around at the chic displays, my heart sinking slightly. Everything here looks so expensive, like it's meant for someone else.

"I'm not a charity case, you know," I say as we navigate through the racks of designer dresses. "I can't just accept help from a stranger."

"Then think of it as an investment," he replies smoothly, glancing at me with a boyish charm. "You're about to land a great job, and I will sure you look the part."

I can't help but chuckle a little, despite the situation. "An investment? You make it sound like you're buying a car."

"Hey, if I had that kind of money, I'd definitely invest in you," he shoots back with a wink.

I try to maintain my composure, shaking my head at his audacity. "I really hope this is just you trying to lighten the mood and not your usual pickup line."

"Okay, guilty," he admits, holding his hands up again. "But I still think you'd look great in a bold red dress." He pulls a stunning, crimson dress from the rack. "This one screams 'I mean business.'"

I eye the dress skeptically. "That's a bit too much, don't you think?"

"Not at all," he insists, tossing it over his arm as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "You'll light up the room."

I can't help but feel a spark of excitement at the thought. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Orion," he replies, flashing another smile that could charm the socks off anyone. "And yours?"

"Calliope," I say, trying to keep the conversation light despite the swirling anxiety in my gut.

"Alright, Calliope," he says, giving me a mock-serious look. "Let's find you the perfect outfit, so you can knock 'em dead at your interview. You have a gorgeous name by the way."

I'm flattered but I'm not going to return the compliment even though I think his name is gorgeous as well.

I can't believe I'm doing this, but something about his energy is infectious. I allow him to guide me through the boutique, tossing a few more options into his growing pile-an elegant black skirt, a classic white blouse, and even a pair of simple, yet stylish heels.

"I'll be your personal shopper for the day," he teases, picking up a matching handbag that looks like it costs more than my entire outfit.

"Very generous of you, but I can't take all this."

He looks at me, genuinely serious. "You have to. You need this. You deserve this."

A small part of me warms to the idea, the part that yearns for this opportunity. "Okay, but only if you promise not to ask for my number after this," I say bluntly.

Orion laughs, and I can't help but smile. "Deal."

I try on the clothes, scrutinising myself in the mirror while Orion waits outside the dressing room patiently. I leave the red dress on, his comment about it has clearly influenced me.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, we head to the register. I watch in disbelief as he pays for everything, my heart racing with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. "I can't believe you did this," I say as we exit the store, clutching my new clothes in a glossy bag.

"Consider it a good luck charm," he replies, leaning against the store's awning, the rain now a light drizzle.

"Thanks, Orion," I say, my voice softer now, the reality of the moment sinking in. "I really appreciate this. I owe you one."

He grins, his eyes sparkling. "You'll pay me back by getting that job. And maybe, just maybe, you'll let me take you out to celebrate afterward?"

I shake my head, a smile breaking through. "I told you I'm not interested. But I'll keep that in mind if I need a distraction after I land the job."

Orion shrugs, unfazed. "I'll take what I can get."

With a final wave, I hurry down the street, the new clothes and my still-damp hair giving me a renewed sense of purpose. I glance at my watch again-9:35 AM. I've got five minutes to get to GreenYield.

With each step, I feel the weight of the day start to lift, the embarrassment of my soaked clothes replaced by a determination that only grows stronger. I'm not just racing against time anymore; I'm racing toward my future.

As I approach the gleaming glass doors of GreenYield, I am filled with the excitement of what's to come. I take a deep breath, straighten my back, and push open the door. Today is my day, and I'm not letting anything-or anyone-hold me back.