“Since when does Sophie McKenna take shit from anyone? Don’t listen to him.”

I let out a long breath and run my fingers across my forehead. April doesn’t know the extent of my debt, or my history with Fuckface. It’s time I shared. If you can’t spill your deepest, shittiest secrets with a close friend, then what kind of friendship do you really have?

“You know when I told you I’d had dick before,” I say quietly.

“Yeah, and I clearly remember the fact that you were as tight as a cat’s arsehole about the details.”

“Yes,” I say, with a roll of my eyes. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about it.”

She reaches across the table, her mood turning more sombre.

“Whatever it is, Soph. Whatever he did to you, you know you can talk to me about it.”

“I know.” I trust this woman with all my heart.

“Four years ago, I was engaged.”

April chokes. I have no idea on what, because it’s not like she has a mouthful of food or drink.

“I wasn’t always this bitter and twisted. I met this guy, an older guy, when I was working at Gloria Jeans in the city. Like clockwork he came in every morning, always immaculately dressed in sharp suits, with fancy cufflinks and silk ties. For months he asked me out on a date.” I think back to those days, and how persistent he’d been. “At first I used to fob him off, because I had no idea why he would be interested in someone like me. I was just a girl working in a café by day and studying at night. He was persistent, and eventually I said yes. We had a connection and it didn’t take long before I’d moved in with him and we were engaged. It snowballed quickly, and we’d even talked about planning a family. He put me up on this pedestal—not that I really thought I deserved to be there. He made my life easier. He was supportive of me, and what I wanted to achieve. I could finally concentrate on my studies without the financial pressure. Once I had my qualifications, I could really go somewhere.”

“So what happened?” she asks, with a concerned look splashed across her face.

“All my money was in our joint account. He maxed out our credit cards, borrowed against our house right up to the max. He drained every last cent. When they re-possessed the house, the bank couldn’t recover what was owed. They couldn’t even get a buyer at market value. He disappeared overseas and the bank couldn’t find him. His family shut me out, and I was left with hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt, which I’ve been struggling to pay back ever since.”

She clutches at her chest. “Oh, Soph. This is why you’ve struggled all this time?”

“It’s my own fault. I was naïve. I believed he loved me. I believed in happy-fucking-ever-afters and having a beautiful family of my own. I just wanna have kids, babe. I don’t wanna get too old and miss my shot.”

“Which is why you broke up with Bonnie?” she asks.

“Yeah, for the most part, but I don’t think we would’ve worked out long-term anyway.”

April seizes both of my hands and grips them tight. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry you’ve had to carry this shit for so long on your own. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” I nod and sniff back my runny nose. “I feel better for sharing. I hate having secrets. I guess I’m kind of still in denial. I’m still astounded that someone could be so cruel to someone they supposedly love.”

“Fucker,” she says, as she shakes her head.

“I prefer to refer to him as Prince Fuckface.”

She bursts out laughing. “Ha, that’s gold! Very fitting.”

“I think so too.”

“And you know what else?”

“What?”

April leans in close, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Now we can have some serious sexy-time conversations, because I’m dying to know stuff.”

“He’s not the best sex I’ve ever had, if that’s what you wanna know.”

“No rush, we can workshop this out some other time … over red wine.”

I shake my head and chuckle. “Okay. Because that’s what best friends do, right?”

She nods. “Right.”

“The big thing is what do I do now? How do I get out of this shitty rut? How do I get ahead?”

“Okay, Miss Soon-To-Graduate, I want you to tell me something. Let’s say you were working in your dream job in recruitment. As a consultant, or whatever. What would you say to someone in your exact same situation?”

Why the fuck haven’t I thought of doing this before?

“I’d say they should get their CV together, do a bit of research on recruitment companies, and then arrange an interview to discuss career options.”

“Sounds like perfect advice to me,” she says, with a wink.

“You’re not just a pretty face,” I say, playfully barging her shoulder.

“Hey, you came up with the bright idea, not me.”

****

Friday

For the last three days I’ve stewed on what Rocco said, even though April tried to tell me to ignore the arse. His harsh words have infiltrated my dreams, and every minute I’ve worked in the café since, it’s as if I’m a dead woman walking. There’s no job satisfaction. No challenge. It truly is time for a change.

I’m doing something about it. Yesterday I took my own advice and did my homework. I contacted one of the top recruitment agencies in Sydney. If I’m doing this, I’m going to start trying at one of the best.

Today, Sophie McKenna is going to dominate at life.

I believe that I can.

I barely recognise my reflection as I walk through the grand steel and glass doors of Walker & Wilde recruitment agency. I’m wearing the smartest outfit I own—simple, yet classic. A white blouse and a black pencil skirt, with a matching fitted jacket and patent black heels. My attire screams office worker, hopefully executive, but on the inside I’m rocking tight jeans and my old AC/DC shirt. I straightened my hair this morning and have pulled it up into a smooth ponytail, wrapping a length of hair around the band.

A young girl with sleek, long black hair in a smart knee-length red dress promptly greets me and takes me through to a small waiting room, where I try and focus on not looking nervous. Thankfully no one can see the growing sweat patches under my arms. Yet.

A lady with short ash-blonde hair, adorned in a navy pantsuit, approaches me, all smiles. She extends her hand, and I shake it with a firm grip. If there’s one thing you have to have, it’s a good handshake.

“Good morning, I’m Sophie McKenna. Thank you for seeing me today.”

“Lovely to meet you, Sophie. I’m Julie Walker.”

Wait a minute, the Julie Walker? Principal, and well known for her awards in the recruitment industry?

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs Walker.”

I did my homework. I know from her profile that she’s happily married, otherwise I’d refer to her as Ms.

I’m surprised to be meeting with one of the owners of the firm, because I was sure I’d be meeting one of their recruitment consultants. I’ve got a prime opportunity here to really make an impression.

“Please, Julie is fine. Follow me.”

I walk behind her to a corner office, and take a seat across from her at her uber-organised desk.

“I’ve had a look at your CV and uni results. You’ve done very well in your studies,” she says.

“Thank you. I hope to finish my degree in the next six months.”

“Great. So tell me, what are you ideally looking for?”

“Ideally, a HR position somewhere. I don’t mind if it’s small business or government. I think regardless of the organisation, I’ll be able to make a difference.”

“Great. Do you have any problems starting at low-level entry?”

It can’t be any worse than what I’m doing now. I don’t mind where I start. It’s a stepping stone, and it’ll be a good foundation for my career. “Not at all; in fact, I’d prefer it. I’d like to know how it all works from the ground up.”

“I love your attitude. You’re right. I think there are some basic skills that many people in recruitment could learn from starting at the bottom.”