The winter sun had that strange way of warming without convincing anyone. It came through the apartment window like an apology—lukewarm, timid, far too beautiful for the season. Talia sat on the couch with her legs crossed, her laptop on her lap, refreshing her inbox for the third time in twenty minutes. Nothing. The reply from JK still hadn’t arrived.
Spike barked from the rug, spinning in circles around his own tail as if the fate of the entire world depended on it.
“Okay, okay.” She closed the laptop. “Let’s go out.”
The word “out” was all it took for Spike to bolt toward the door, his claws scraping across the floor. Talia clipped the leash onto him, put on her coat, and went downstairs. The park was two blocks away, and at that midafternoon hour, the sun hit the grass in a way that made it look greener than it really was. Lying winter sun, she thought with a smile.
Spike ran in wide circles, came back, then ran again. Talia threw the ball three, four, five times, until her arms grew heavy and she let herself drop onto the grass. She planted her hands behind her, tipped her face toward the sky, and closed her eyes. The sun touched her eyelids. For a moment, the world was simple.
That was when Spike took off.
The leash snapped out of her hand, and before Talia could react, the dog was already several yards away, racing straight toward a man walking alone along the stone path.
“Spike!” she shouted, leaping to her feet.
The man was tall. That was the first thing she noticed—the height, and then the way the sunlight fell across his face with an almost unfair precision, as if winter existed solely to illuminate it. Spike barked at his feet, his tail wagging frantically, but the man didn’t bend down. He didn’t smile. He did nothing.
Talia ran over to them, breathless.
“Sorry, he never does this, I…”
The man stopped. He turned his face toward her. And looked at her.
It wasn’t a friendly look. It wasn’t curious, either. It was a look that passed right through her, as if he were searching for something else and hadn’t found it. It lasted two seconds, maybe three. Then he looked away and kept walking, his hands in his pockets, without saying a word.
Talia stood there with Spike in her arms, her heart pounding from the run—just from the run.
“What a jerk,” she muttered, hugging Spike against her chest.
But as she walked back, something clung to her. It wasn’t exactly anger. It was an itch in her memory, like when you hear a song and know you’ve heard it before but can’t remember where. That face. That way of looking at the world as if everything around him were too loud.
She knew that man from somewhere.
She shook her head, adjusted Spike’s leash, and left.
At home, after her shower, with her hair still damp and a mug of tea in hand, Talia opened her laptop again. Her inbox loaded. And there it was.
Subject: JK Hiring Process—Final Result.
Her heart stopped. She clicked.
The words appeared one by one, as if the screen were deliberately building suspense. “Dear Talia…”—she rolled her eyes, *get to the point*—“…we’re pleased to inform you that you’ve passed every stage of the hiring process…”
Passed.
She read it again. Then again. She lifted a hand to her mouth.
“…with only the in-person interview with the company director remaining, scheduled for tomorrow at 9 a.m.”
Spike barked from the floor, probably because he sensed her energy shift. Talia was on her feet now, pacing across the room with the laptop still open in her hand, laughing to herself, her eyes shining.
“Tomorrow,” she said aloud, looking at the ceiling as if making a promise. “Tomorrow I have to impress that director.”
She set the laptop on the table. Took a deep breath.
“I need this job, Spike.”
Spike tilted his head, as if he understood perfectly.
Talia went to her closet and began laying out her options. Dark blazer, silk blouse, the pants that made her legs look even longer. She hung everything on the door hook and stood there staring, her arms crossed, like a general planning a battle.
Tomorrow. Everything depended on tomorrow.
She turned off the light, lay down in bed, and stared at the ceiling in the dark. The face of the man from the park appeared again, uninvited. That look. That coldness. Where did she know that face from?
She turned onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut.
Tomorrow. Focus on tomorrow.