Layla's POV

“Are you sure you don't need to be at work now?” I asked Maya for the umpteenth time.

Of course, I was nervous. I paced the living room like it was a damn runway, except I was barefoot and sweating like someone who just realized they left their stove on. I checked the time 2:28 p.m. Thirty-two minutes to go.

Maya had come over to my house to give me moral support for the interview scheduled to start very soon. She lounged like she was at a sleepover, not a high-stakes ...