Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 521

(Lisa)

I can’t breathe.

Meeting this CEO is going to be the death of me. I’ve been throwing up from nerves all morning.

I adjust my blazer, trying to act like I’m not about to pass out, and glance over at Winona, who’s giving me the look—the one that says she’s about two seconds away from laughing at me.

I’ve never worn a damn blazer in my life. Give me a mini-dress any day.

“You know, I didn’t sign up for this level of stress. I thought we were just going to grab lunch with some rich guy, not audition for a role in The Apprentice,” I mutter under my breath, trying to hide the shaky hands clutching my bag.

Winona raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It’s not The Apprentice. Just act like you know what you’re doing. And for God’s sake, don’t spill a drink on the guy.”

“Drink, do you think he’ll offer some bubbles?” I deadpan.

“It’s 9am, I think not, I meant coffee.”

“Damn.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Barely. I’m not cut out for this crap.”

“You know it. I’ll always be your personal cheerleader,” she says, eyes glinting. “And if you mess up? I’ll throw some confetti in the air and call it a party.”

“If I mess up? Don’t you mean when?”

She rubs my arm lightly. “You’ve got this.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m the fake it till I make it expert, remember?”

“That’s the spirit.” She smirks, but then her face softens. “But seriously, don’t mess it up. I’ll judge you forever.”

I snort. “Who needs enemies when I’ve got friends like you, huh?”

The elevator dings, and I swear the floor will drop out from under me. My chest is tight, my palms slick with sweat, my heart pounding in my throat.

We’re here. This is it. This is the moment. The moment I can’t mess up.

I’m not cut out for corporate. I’m a party girl. What the fuck was Lance thinking? He knew more than anyone how I detest the thought of a real job. I have money, who needs work complicating life?

I’ll probably kill this non-profit faster than a houseplant. And that’s pretty damn fast.

I glance at Winona, who was born for this—cool, composed, walking like she owns the place. She’s all business, all confidence. Meanwhile, I feel like a pretender in this suit, fidgeting with my briefcase like it’s my life raft.

“You okay?” Winona’s voice cuts through my chaos, and I blink, trying to pull myself together.

“Fine,” I try to sound convincing, but the word comes out shaky. “Just—just nervous. Really freaking nervous.”

She studies me for a second. “You'll be fine. You’ve got this. They’re not going to eat you alive.”