My Husband Wants An Open Marriage (Julie and Ryan)
Open Billionaire 62

CHAPTER 062: The Interview

Julie

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By some miracle, Luke got me an interview with Illusionaire, one of the biggest luxury department store chains in the world.

I didn't even know they're hiring. Fortunately, right when I needed a job, their New York branch had a vacancy for a CMO. Which is rather convenient. Too convenient. But I'm not about to ask questions. Not after that rigorous virtual interview I had two days ago with the hiring team. I swear, they were trying their best to replace me unqualified..

I'm surprised they called me back for the second round of interviews. The panel interview with the company's stakeholders.

I'm driving down Fifth Avenue, my mind a mess of nerves.

I glance at the dashboard clock. Fifteen minutes to spare. Good. Enough time to mentally prepare myself -or have an existential crisis. I hit the shuffle button on my playlist. Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" blasts through the speakers. Perfect. I crank up the volume and start singing along. My voice cracks on the high notes, but I don't care. Whitney was always a goddess. Maybe she'll bless today.

me

The rhythm takes over, and for a moment, I'm just a woman in a car, pretending the world isn't watching. judging, waiting for me to fail.

Then my phone rings. The Bluetooth speaker announces the caller.

Emily.

My jaw tightens as I hit the call button.

"Julie," Emily says in greeting.

"Emily," I reply, already reaching for the button to start recording. The little red icon lights up on the screen. "Do you have what I asked for?"

"I do." There's hesitation in her tone. "And I'm emailing it to you now. It's not much, but it's enough. Your know you kinda put me in trouble, right?" "Oh, yeah?" I couldn't care less.

"Ryan is suspicious of me. We're sleeping in separate rooms now. The only reason I'm still in this house is because I'm pregnant with his child." "Fascinating," I say. "Please arrive at the part where it became my problem."

*Julie, please, you can't mess this up for me. If Ryan figures out what I'm doing, I'm done. And if Adeline replaces out, she'll-she'll destroy me."

I should hang up. Really, I should. Talking to Emily is like swimming in a pool of sharks, except the sharks are also crying for attention while trying to bite you. But as much as I hate to admit it, sparring with her is oddly therapeutic. I'm no longer nervous about the interview. Emily's fear is proving to be a good boost of confidence. So I let the conversation linger.

1/3

CHAPTER 562 The Intery

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"Are you even pregnant?" I ask

"What?" She sounds genuinely offended.

"It's just us. Be honest."

"Yes, I'm pregnant," she snaps. "I wouldn't lie about that I just. I know I'm doing this mainly for my interest. But in a weird way, I like Ryan. He's not all bad. And he's sweet. You know how he is. You're his wife. You know he's fragile. A news like this would kill him. I don't want to have his death on my hands.

I laugh. I know what she's doing. She's trying to play me, trying to dig into the old Julie-the one who might've been naive enough to sympathize. That Julie is dead.

"You don't want his death on your hands," I say, dragging out the words. "Which means this is all about you. And you expect me to care?"

"I'm begging you. Adeline already blames me for Ryan's panic attack. I'm the one who picked Ryan up from the hospital, and now she thinks we had a quarrel that led to him collapsing. When I know it was you. He left this house and went to meet you. Next thing I know, I'm being called from a hospital. If she replaces another reason to hate me-"

"Panic attack?" I say. That's the only part of her monologue that piqued my interest. "So he's alive?"

There's a pause. "Yes. But the doctor ended up replaceing a lump in his chest. They need to remove it and run tests. Hopefully, it won't be carrying any cancerous cells."

"Wow," I say. I don't even know how to feel about that.

I mean, I've fantasized about him dying a couple of times. But cancer seems extreme, even to me.

My eyes catch the looming glass building of Illusionaire in the distance. It's massive, intimidating. Just like the people waiting inside. Time to wrap this up. "Emily, thank you for the chitchat," I say, "Do your part. Send me the evidence. If it's good enough, I might consider having mercy on you and your boyfriend." "Julie, wait-" she starts, but I end the call.

The silence that follows is soothing. No begging. No whining. Just me, my car, and the undeniable satisfaction of knowing I've rattled her cage.

I pull into the parking garage of Illusionaire, my nerves tightening again as I step out of the car. The towering building above me feels like it's watching, waiting to judge me. But Trefuse to let it intimidate me. Not today. After all, I scaled through the first interview. I got this. The elevator ride is suffocatingly quiet. My reflection stares back at me in the mirrored walls. Hair: perfect. Suit: flawless. Confidence? A work in progress.

The receptionist greets me on the top floor, all smiles and polished professionalism. She escorts me to the conference room, where the panel is waiting. Seven people sit in a semicircle, their expressions ranging from mildly curious to borderline predatory. Just the regular corporate bullies.

I offer a firm handshake to each of them, reciting their names in my head like a mantra. When I sit, the

CHAPTER 062 The Interview

chair feels colder than I expect.

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"Ms. Jenkins," says the man at the center of the table, the one who introduced himself as Charles, the CEO. His voice is warm, but his eyes are sharp. "Thank you for coming back for the second round. As you know, this is a critical position, and we're looking for someone who not only meets our expectations but exceeds them."

"I understand," I say, keeping my tone calm. Inside, my heart is sprinting.

The questions come fast, each one sharper than the last. They dissect my resume, challenge my strategies, poke holes in my successes. I fire back with everything I've got, weaving in stories of campaigns I've turned into successes, of risks I've taken that paid off. It helps that I have several years of experience in marketing. So I know how to convince people to want something that seems undesirable.

At one point, a woman with glasses and a razor-sharp smile leans forward. I can tell she has something big on her mind.

She's perched at the far end of the table, her manicured nails drumming a slow, calculated rhythm on her clipboard.

"Ms. Jenkins," she says. "Your resume is flawless, if I must admit."

It's a compliment, but I don't trust it. I smile politely, the kind of smile that says, "Thanks, but I know you're about to hit me with something ugly."

"You are also quite skilled in expressing your achievements and goals," she continues. "Which goes to show that all of this is much earned. However..." She pauses, letting the word hang. "There is a question that lingers amongst everyone in this room. Something we've been avoiding because it might sound invasive, and before I proceed, I want you to know that you do not need to answer." feel the trap snapping shut already.

"But for the good of the company, we are fequired to ask," she says. "We've run some background checks, as is standard, and have come across a... media display between you and your estranged husband."

My stomach knots, but my face remains composed.

"It's none of our business," she adds, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "As that does not impact your ability to do the job. Or does it?" There it is. A grenade disguised as a question. I don't blink. One thing this job has taught me is to spin anything into a narrative. This is no different. "Thank you for addressing that," I say, keeping my tone calm. "I'm aware of the coverage, and I want to

ability to assure you that the situation is being handled privately and professionally. It will not impact my perform in this role or my dedication to Illusionaire."

She tilts her head, as if studying me. "Good to know," she says after a beat. "Because we just signed a partnership deal with Paragon Jewels, and we need to know if you'll be comfortable working in close proximity to Mr. Ryan O'Brien."