Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103

The café was packed, the usual late-morning chaos of Enchanted Beach. I chose a table by the window- strategically perfect. Visible enough to project confidence, but private enough for a professional conversation. While I waited, I adjusted the folder with my portfolio, pretending it didn’t feel like my entire future was sitting on the table with me.

This wasn’t a typical interview. Lucy Albright, communications director at Prism PR, had suggested “an informal chat” after seeing my résumé. “Better to get to know each other without the pressure of a desk between us,” she’d written. According to every career blog I’d been devouring lately, that was a good sign.

Right on the dot at eleven, a woman in her forties walked in. Her platinum pixie cut and bold red frames matched everything I’d heard about Prism-bold, stylish, a little intimidating in the best way.

“Zoey?” she asked, approaching with a warm smile and a firm handshake. “Lucy Albright. So glad to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” I said, returning the smile, doing my best to project a confidence I wasn’t totally feeling.

Once we ordered-double espresso for her, ginger tea for me, hoping to calm my stubborn stomach-Lucy got straight to the point.

“Your résumé is impressive. Solid experience in PR, great references, excellent education.” She tilted her head, studying me over her glasses. “And of course, there’s the Kensington factor.”

I felt my smile falter just a little.

“I’d rather be evaluated for my qualifications, not my last name.”

“Admirable,” she said, nodding approvingly. “But it would be naive of me to ignore it. Being a Kensington is both an advantage and an obstacle in your case, you know.”

“How so?”

“On one hand, you have access to circles our other consultants could take years to reach.” She took a sip of her coffee. “On the other, people will always wonder-did she land that client because of skill, or because of her connections?”

It was the first time anyone had said it out loud. In other interviews, the Kensington name hung in the air like an invisible elephant-noticed, but carefully ignored.

“I understand the concern,” I said evenly. “But my work has always spoken for itself. And as for connections, I see them as tools, not crutches.”

Lucy smiled, clearly pleased with the answer.

“Exactly what I was hoping to hear. At Prism, we value people who recognize their privilege without being defined by it.” She opened her tablet, swiping to a presentation. “Let me show you some of the projects you’d be involved with…”

The presentation was impressive-bold campaigns for clients ranging from gourmet food to tech startups. For the first time in weeks, I felt that familiar flicker of professional excitement. This was the kind of work I missed, the kind I wanted.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Lucy asked, noticing my growing enthusiasm.

“Very,” I said, leaning forward to get a better look. “That campaign for the food festival? The multisensory approach is exactly the kind of strategy that-

“Zoey? Zoey Benne-uh, Kensington?”

–

The familiar voice froze me mid-sentence. Slowly, I looked up to see Edward, my former boss from Sunvale, standing beside our table with a look of pure surprise.

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