The moment I saw her, I knew I had a choice to make. A woman stood by the side of the road, her hands shaking as she stared down at her car’s flat tire. The traffic zoomed past, people barely sparing her a glance.
It was clear, she was out of her depth, struggling to even figure out what to do next. I was already running late for my interview. The interview, the one chance I had to change my life.
I should have kept going, but I couldn’t. Something inside me wouldn’t let me. So, with a sharp turn of my bike’s handle, I skidded to a stop beside her.
Do you need help? I asked, my breath coming fast. Her head snapped up, her sharp green eyes locking onto mine. For a split second, hesitation flashed across her face, like she wasn’t used to accepting help.
But then she sighed. Yeah, I think so. I nodded and knelt down beside the car, my fingers already working at the bolts.
You got a spare? She exhaled in relief. Yeah, in the trunk. I got to work immediately, my hands moving fast.
Years of fixing my old bike had made me quick, and within minutes, I had the car lifted the busted tire off. Sweat dripped down my temple. But I kept going, ignoring the fact that time was slipping away.
She paced beside me, checking her watch every few seconds. I’m going to be late. She muttered under her breath.
I let out a small chuckle. Yeah, me too. She looked at me then, really looked at me, and something shifted in her expression.
Wait, are you on your way somewhere important? I tightened the last bolt and stood up, wiping my hands on my pants. Job interview. Her face fell.
Oh. Oh no. I glanced at my watch.
10 minutes late. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I had blown it.
I forced a smile. It’s fine. Her brows knitted together, like she was trying to figure me out.
No, it’s not. She pulled something from her bag, pressing it into my hand. A business card.
Call me, she said firmly. I barely glanced at it before tucking it into my pocket. I don’t need.
Just call me, she repeated. Then, without another word, she slid into her car and sped off. I stood there for a moment, watching her go.
Then, with a sigh, I picked up my bike and pedaled away, knowing I had just lost my one shot at something better. Or so I thought. The next morning, I woke up to the email.
Thank you for your application. Unfortunately, we have decided to move forward with other candidates. I stared at the rejection on my phone, the weight of it pressing into my chest.
Another door closed. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. I needed to find another opportunity.
Fast. That’s when I noticed something on my nightstand. The business card.
I picked it up, flipping it between my fingers. Eleanor Carter. CEO…
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