Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Kamille’s POV

It had been more than a week since I arrived London. I had been applying for work at several weather forecasting stations but most of them with lucrative offers wanted more of me than I could give. I still need to be around my kids.

I landed a couple freelance gigs but I wanted something more worthwhile. Last night, I refreshed my emails hoping to see something, anything and to my amazement, I found something.

I was invited to an interview based on a recommendation. The job offer was quite to my liking. Remote, great pay and lots of incentives.

Jackpot!

As I meticulously prepared for the interview, my mind was engrossed with activities of it’s own. I wondered who my recommender was? The person must have been a high ranked person to recommend me to such an outstanding company. The offer they gave was topnotch. Almost too good to be true.

The prospect of a remote job was particularly appealing, as it would allow me the flexibility I needed to be there for my kids while still working on the Manor’s case.

Whew!

I dressed up and hurried out of the house. I had on a black pants and a sky blue chiffon blouse. The humid London weather prompted me to add on a black coat. I flagged down a taxi and got in.

As I arrived the door to the interview room, my nerves threatened to betray me, but I refused to let them get the best of me. I took in deep breaths, put on a smile and walked into the interview room.

“Good morning Sirs. Good morning Ma’am.” I greeted the three-man interview panel with confidence. The lady smiled and returned my greeting. The men nodded a response.

“Have a seat Miss Kamille.” The lady said. A petite lady with blond hair named, Mrs Cara Woodson.

I pulled out the seat and sat. They began with the routine question and answering session. I answered their questions eloquently.

“Thank you Miss Kamille. Can we see more samples of your work?” One of the men asked. His name tag bore Mr. Phillips.

“Definitely Sir.” I replied and stretched forward my arms, providing samples of my work with pride. The tension that lurked in the corners seemed to dissipate with each passing moment, replaced by a sense of mutual respect and appreciation.

“Now, this a great job you have put together.” The other man named, Mr. Wilson exclaimed.

“I must add Miss Kamille, we were a bit hesitant when you were recommended, being that we had checked your resume, and you were open for a remote job, whereas, we needed someone who would be coming around more often than not. But we decided to give you a try on the honor of who recommended you. You aced it.” Mr Phillip added with a grim smile.

“Thank you Sir.” I smiled back.

“We would send you a mail with your contract before the day runs out. So you read, sign and submit. You can resume next week.” Mrs Cara said.

“Thank you Ma’am.” I replied with gratitude.

“And also, you would have to be coming in biweekly to the office. I hope that is okay?” Mr. Wilson asked.

“Yes Sir. It is definitely alright.” I replied. I had a nanny now, so biweekly reporting at the office was not going to be a big deal.

As the formalities came to an end, a nagging curiosity gnawed at the back of my mind.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Who had recommended me for this position?

“Please excuse me ma’am.” I called out to the Mrs Cara as she made to leave the room. She responded.

“Please I would very much love to know who recommended me for this work. I would be most grateful if I knew who the person is.” I requested calmly.

“Oh Miss Kamille, he chose to be anonymous. I’m sorry I cannot help you with that information.” She smiled politely and left.

Who the hell was this person? And why had he chosen to remain anonymous? I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this story than met th

My mind began piecing together bits. The anonymous benefactor who had left a generous sum of money for me after the devastating accident four years ago, had also chosen to remain anonymous. Could it be the same person? Does he know who I am?

They had to be the same person.

I decided to keep at bay the disturbing thoughts and celebrate my getting a job. This job offer suited a person who was going in full time but the company accepted to make mine remote.

I decided to break the good news to Amanda and Belle, so I sent them messages. They both replied with series of congratulations and suggesting I take them out on a treat. I giggled at their requests.

I definitely would take them out on that treat.

Lost in my musings, I made my way out of the interview room and out of the building. I began walking towards the exit, but before I could reach my destination, a presence halted me in my tracks.

I looked up, and met the gaze of a familiar face. My heart began pounding in my chest. The person I so much wanted to avoid was only a few feets away from me.

What the fuck was he doing here? Why can he not just stay the hell out of my life?

I withdrew my gaze and continued in the direction where I could get a taxi. I understand this is a big company, but why did I have to meet Zeke here? Why today?

Just as I walked past him, I get his strong, warm hands gently grasp my arm, sending a jolt of electricity through my veins as he spun me around to face him. His arms pulled me into his embrace and he locked me in with his arms.

He sure has got some nerves.

I struggled to find my voice, my mind reeling from the shock of seeing him. “Zeke? What are you doing here? Let me go, we are in public.” I whined weakly but he didn’t budge.

I couldn’t quite understand how my emotions where at the moment. We were entangled in a public embrace, he was a popular figure, I am supposed to be dead, we could be recognized by anybody and worst of all, our stance was gaining too much attention. My ears began to glow red from embarrassment.

“Kamille.” He said, his voice firm but gentle, “we need to talk.”

I stood there, still locked in his firm embrace. My heartbeat doubled up and my breathing became erratic. He was too close. I hated that he had this kind of effect on me.

But I loved the feeling nonetheless.