She wondered, if Harrison had not broken her heart so completely, would she have put up with Bran’s crap for so long? Bran had always been disconnected, which, in hindsight, looked extremely suspicious. But Mariella had been so determined to protect her heart from breaking again, she used Bran’s shady distance as another layer of armor.
Despite the public humiliation and impact on her reputation, the pain of her and Bran’s breakup was nothing compared to the absolute agony she suffered when Harrison left Jasper Falls. How could that be? How could a teenage fling come close to comparing with an adult relationship?
The truth was, it didn’t. There was no comparison. What she’d felt for Harrison was bigger than anything she’d ever experienced with Bran or anyone else.
She nodded as Mr. King continued to explain his vision for the hotel, but her mind remained on the guest upstairs in room two-ten. In a few minutes this interview would end and she’d have to make a decision.
Harrison was dangerous. He made her feel too many things.
She wasn’t a foolish kid anymore, and she needed to think several steps ahead if she wanted to reach her goals. Harrison would only distract her. Not distract her with a relationship, of course, because she wasn’t foolish enough to even think such a thing was possible with him. But the pain of losing him again, even after only a split second of seeing him back in Jasper Falls, could send her into a headspace from which it could take months to recover.
Harrison wasn’t the sort of guy women should build plans around. He was anti-commitment in every sense of the word. A simple conversation could make him claustrophobic. And she knew better than to think he’d changed.
Glaring at the doorknob-sized engagement ring on Perrin’s finger, nestled snugly against the platinum wedding band, a sense of inadequacy swallowed Mariella. What was she even doing here? She was making an ass of herself.
As the boilerplate dialogue carried on, it became clear Mr. King was merely letting the sand run out of the hourglass. Someone with his level of success would know this script by heart. And as he seamlessly wrapped up the interview, never once giving any real implication that she didn’t stand a chance for the job, Mariella somehow felt his dismissal down to her soul.
“Do you have any questions for us?” Mr. King finally asked.
A painful throb beat in her knee from where she’d fallen in the lobby and tension knotted in her shoulders as discomfort transformed into indignation. They knew she wasn’t getting the job, so why pretend like she stood a chance?
It wasn’t fair. She was as good a candidate as anyone else, perhaps the most qualified person they’d find living in their town, but none of that mattered. At this point, she had nothing left to lose.
She lifted her chin and met his stare. “I’d just like to say, I’m a hard worker and I take pride in every job I do. I love Jasper Falls, and as someone who’s lived here all of her life, I know a lot about the area. I want to see our town grow and prosper. I went into the service field because I enjoy putting others at ease, but if that is somehow a drawback for you, then maybe I’m not the right woman for the job. I’m professional and congenial. I bring a warm and welcoming presence wherever I go, which is something I think you’d want in a hotel manager.”
She forced her eyes to meet Perrin’s stare. “And I’m honest. I know I’m not perfect, and I don’t have a lot of experience, but if I’m unsure about something, I’m not afraid to ask questions. I would never intentionally do anything to hurt someone else, including my employer or the company that employs me. That’s the truth, whether you believe it or not.”
Every muscle inside her body quaked as she waited for some form of response. She wasn’t a confrontational person, and she hated the way this interview had gone, but she would not let Perrin leave the others with an undeserved impression of her. Her past mistakes should not define her. And it was Perrin who had been the other woman!
Mr. King closed the cover of his leather portfolio and stood. “I think we have everything we need. Thank you, Ms. Mosconi.” He shook her hand when she rose. “You should have an answer by the end of the week.”
“Thank you for your time.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
She escaped the room, avoiding Perrin’s stare on the way out. As she approached the lobby, she reached into her coat pocket for her car keys, but rather than find jagged metal, her fingers closed around smooth plastic.
She withdrew the black keycard and her steps slowed as she stared at the logo of the hotel. Her heart jittered with uncertainty as warning bells clattered through her mind, much louder than the whispering impulse to do something reckless.