Chapter 2 - The Rejected Resume
The morning sun did not shine; it leaked through the gray Indianapolis clouds like dirty water, casting a cold, flat light over the living room.
Claire woke up at 6:00 a.m. to the sound of Sophie babbling in her bassinet. For the first time in weeks, the baby’s stomach was full, her skin warm and healthy. Claire felt a profound, aching relief, but it was quickly replaced by a sharp, cold knot of anxiety as she remembered the rejection letters sitting on her desk.
She had applied for a position as a Clinical Care Coordinator at Cole Health Enterprises. With her six years of experience as a certified nursing assistant and her clean record, she was more than qualified. The position offered a salary of $54,000 a year, comprehensive medical benefits, and an on-site childcare program. It would have saved her life.
Instead, she had received two cold, automated emails stating that her application had been processed but "other candidates whose profiles more closely align with our current organizational needs" had been selected.
And now, the man who had signed those rejections had been standing in her kitchen, measuring baby formula.
A loud, metallic screech from the parking lot broke her thoughts.
Claire ran to the window, pulling back the thin, yellowed curtains.
A flatbed tow truck had backed up to her silver Honda Civic. A mechanic in a gray jumpsuit was already hooking chains to the front axle.
"No, no, no," Claire gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She grabbed Sophie, wrapped her in a thick fleece blanket, and ran down the stairs, her slippers slapping against the icy concrete. She burst through the double doors of the building into the freezing morning air.
"Excuse me!" she shouted, her breath rising in white clouds. "What are you doing? You can't tow my car! I live here, I have a permit!"
The mechanic stopped, wiping his grease-stained hands on a rag. He looked at her, then down at a clipboard in his hand. "Are you Claire Morgan?"
"Yes! I am."
"I’m not repossessing it, ma'am," the mechanic said with a friendly smile. "I’m with Westside Auto. A Mr. Ethan Cole called our shop at six this morning. He paid for the tow, the parts, and the labor to have your alternator replaced. We’re taking it to our garage, and we’ll have it back to you by three this afternoon. He also paid for this."
He reached into his pocket and handed her a small, white envelope.
Claire opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a pre-paid rideshare gift card worth $150 and a small, hand-written note on heavy, cream cardstock:
For your commute today. Your car will be returned to your parking space before your shift ends. - E.
Claire stared at the note, her mind spinning. The sheer, overwhelming scale of his intrusion into her life was terrifying, yet she could not deny the profound relief that washed over her. She didn't have to carry Sophie through the freezing slush to the bus stop. She didn't have to wonder how she would pay for the $600 alternator repair.
"Is... is this some kind of joke?" she whispered.
"No joke, ma'am," the mechanic said, climbing back into the cab of his truck. "Mr. Cole is a regular client of ours. When he says he wants something fixed, he doesn't spare any expense. We'll have her running like new."
Claire watched the truck pull away, her silver car disappearing down the street. She walked back inside, her mind racing.
May you like
She had to see him. She had to understand why the head of a multi-million-dollar corporation was suddenly acting as her guardian angel.
At 8:30 a.m., she used the rideshare card to call a car. Instead of heading to the call center where she worked her temporary shift, she typed in the address of the corporate headquarters of Cole Health Enterprises.
