The Perfect Pretender

Antonia Adams should have known the day was cursed the moment the sky turned that odd shade of gray that promised rain but delivered humidity instead. She hated humidity. It clung to her skin like a desperate ex-boyfriend and frizzed her hair into something that looked like she had stuck her finger into a socket. Not exactly the glamorous look she wanted for her first job interview in months.

After a messy breakup that ended her six-year relationship, Antonia decided to start her life over. That meant a new job, a new apartment, and maybe one day, a new heartthrob. Despite the devastating breakup, Antonia was still hopeful about finding true love, but right after she got her life back on track.

Clutching her handbag tighter, she adjusted her pencil skirt and picked up her pace along the busy street. Her sister had wished her luck that morning—complete with a pep talk, a kiss on the cheek, and a warning not to let nerves get the best of her. Easy for her sister to say. She wasn’t the one walking into an interview where she desperately needed to prove she wasn’t a complete failure at life.

“Okay, Antonia,” she muttered under her breath, dodging a cyclist. “You’re smart, qualified, and you have a killer smile. Just…be yourself and give this interview your best.”

She was so busy rehearsing her ‘confident applicant’ mantra that she didn’t notice the sleek black car speeding through the puddle until it was too late.

Whoosh!

A spray of muddy water shot up like a fountain, splattering across her cream-colored blouse and skirt.

Antonia froze. For a full second, she just stood there, drenched, staring down at the ruin of her outfit. Then her blood boiled.

“Are you kidding me?!” she shouted, her voice lost in the rush of traffic.

She could practically hear her sister’s voice in her head: Stay calm, Antonia. Don’t embarrass yourself.

But Antonia was not calm. She was dripping mud, five minutes from an interview that could change her life, and the arrogant driver of that car hadn’t even slowed down to apologize.

Without thinking, she bent down, grabbed a small stone from the roadside, and hurled it with all the force of her frustration.

Clink!

Her mouth dropped open.

The stone didn’t just bounce off harmlessly. Oh no. It cracked the tail light clean in half, leaving a jagged hole in the sleek rear of the car.

“Oh… my… God,” she whispered, frozen in horror.

The car screeched to a stop. The driver’s door opened.

And out stepped the most ridiculously handsome man Antonia had ever seen in her life.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair that gleamed even in the dull sunlight. A face carved with sharp lines of authority, paired with a suit that obviously cost more than the entire outfit she had on.

Her heart skipped. Then it panicked.

Because this wasn’t just some random man—this was the kind of man. The kind who looked powerful, untouchable, and terrifyingly capable of suing her into oblivion for breaking his fancy car.

He started toward her, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes fixed on hers.

Antonia’s brain screamed RUN! before her legs even caught up. She clutched her bag, spun on her heels, and bolted down the street like a criminal escaping a crime scene.

By the time she reached Walton & Co. headquarters, her lungs burned and her blouse was still stained. She hurried into the lobby, hoping no one noticed how disheveled she looked, and headed straight for the receptionist.

"Good morning," she greeted quickly, “I—um—I’m here for the ten o’clock interview,” she gasped, trying to pat down her hair with little success.

The receptionist gave her a once-over that said 'you poor thing' before handing her a visitor badge. Antonia squared her shoulders. Stains or not, she wasn’t about to blow this chance. She needed this job like she needed oxygen. She can't keep fending off her sister and brother-in-law. She needed to get her life back on track, and this could be her only chance.

She rode the elevator up, muttering another pep talk. “You can do this. They’ll see your qualifications, not the mud. They’ll see your confidence, not your…”—she glanced at her blouse—“…coffee-colored fashion statement.”

The conference room was buzzing when she walked in. Other candidates sat waiting, each one polished and perfect. Antonia sank into a chair, folded her arms strategically over the worst of the stains, and tried not to think about her stone-throwing fiasco.

Then the door opened.

Every head turned.

In walked the man from the car.

Antonia’s stomach plummeted.

He moved with easy authority, his gaze scanning the room like he owned it—which, apparently, he did. Because when the receptionist followed him in and addressed him as “Mr. Walton”, Antonia nearly fainted.

Mr. Walton. Kennedy Walton. The CEO.

The man whose car she had vandalized.

The man she had run away from.

The man who was now standing at the head of the table, his piercing eyes sweeping the room until they landed directly on her.

Their gazes locked.

And in that instant, Antonia knew two things with absolute certainty.

One, she was not getting this job.

And two, she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.