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108
Pride Cometh
Before A Fall
Millicent Trigar
Corey was unimpressed. His interview was supposed to start 15
minutes ago. If they didn’t call him in soon, he would be tardy for his
much anticipated lunch date. He had arranged to meet a bewitching
little blonde with flirtatious eyes at 1pm, and had reserved a table at a
lavish restaurant around the corner. It was now 12:45 and he was
going to have to leave if they kept him waiting much longer.
He jiggled his custom tailored Italian leather dress shoe on the
oak coffee table in front of him. The incessant tapping caused the
prim receptionist across the waiting room to squint her beady eyes
at him over her spectacles in a chastising manner. He waved a
dismissive hand at her, smirked, and kept jiggling. What was her
problem? She obviously had no idea who he was!
Corey was in the waiting room of his uncle’s notorious finance
company. He was there under protest. His parents had decided that
it was time for him to earn his own income and experience the
working world. It was a bit of a bore really, but he had agreed because
his father had promised him the use of their chalet that weekend if
he went to the interview. Perhaps if his date went well, the alluring
blonde could accompany him.
It wasn’t as if Corey needed a job. His family was ridiculously
wealthy and Corey had just about everything he required to live a first-
class life; sky-rise apartment, corporate box tickets to
NBA
games,
stylish clothes, cars, silver spoons, and the renowned last name that
never failed to reel in the gold-digging ladies.
Corey Guradi had a handsome face. His teeth were alabaster and
perfectly straight thanks to the overpriced dentist his parents had
paid for in his childhood. His Armani suit curled snug around his
toned and tanned body, the new Rolex he purchased just for this
occasion encasing his wrist. He knew the blonde would be impressed,
and it had been impossible not to notice the envious and admiring
glances from the chump who had sat across from him in the waiting
room, and was now being interviewed in the next room. Corey could
not fathom why the interview with that poor excuse of a rival was
taking so long. It was inconceivable that he would ever be chosen
over Corey.
The door to the interview room swung open. The chump
practically fell out of the room, his pudgy face blotchy and with
obvious sweat stains on his puckered shirt. Corey didn’t even try to
stifle his disdainful snort at the sight. This was going to be too easy.
He would trump that poor excuse for a rival in 5 minutes tops, and
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