Gemotions

The waiting room felt suddenly small. Evelyn tapped her foot against the tiled floor, the rhythmic drumming a counterpoint to the polite elevator music. Across from her, Liam grinned, looking as relaxed as if he were waiting for a haircut. The interviewers had called her first.

"Good luck," he'd said, flashing that infuriatingly charming smile. Now, he was still grinning.

Her breath hitched. She had assumed, obviously, that she was the only one. He'd always said he wanted to be an architect. The sheer gall of it, to…to compete like this, against her. She felt a flush rising up her neck, her cheeks burning.

She picked at the faux leather on the armrest. It was a good job, a great job, and she’d prepared for this for months. His presence felt like a cruel joke.