The Hispanic guy who told them to sit down as he went to get “Mr. H.” reappeared. He looked like someone who worked at a newspaper—owlish glasses, skinny as a ski pole, emo-looking black hair pressed against his head. His cargo shorts and whiteT-shirt were way too baggy, and one of his raggedy high-top tennis shoes was untied.And Viv saidIdressed unprofessionally.
“Mr. H. says he’ll see you now.” When the redheaded woman started to stand, he shook his head. “Not you, ma’am.” He turned to Kalista and grinned. “He’s ready for your interview.”
Hmm. He was kind of cute when he smiled. “Thank you...”
“Tyler.” His cheeks turned rosy as he looked down at his shoes. Then he turned to the other woman. “He said you can wait here.”
The woman didn’t say anything, but her lips were pressed into a thin line. She yanked something that looked like a cell phone with a big screen out of the pocket of her jacket and started tapping on it.
“Mr. H.’s office is down the hall and around the corner. It says Editor in Chief on the door.” He grabbed a steno pad and pencil from the empty desk in the reception area. “I’ve got to run to Cherry Hill,” he said, tucking the pencil behind his ear before dashing out of the room.
Kalista’s fingers and toes suddenly turned cold as she headed down a dark hall that could use another ceiling light. When she neared the corner, she had the urge to run off, call Daddy, and tell him she wanted to come home. She could get a job in LA, easy. Maybe she could even work for her father, although he’d never offered her a job before. Come to think of it, that was a little insulting. Didn’t he think she would be responsible?
No, he didn’t. He’d said as much that day by the pool, and she barely listened to him. Now she remembered his words clearly.
She couldn’t go home anyway, not until after Viv’s wedding. She didn’t want to disappoint her. There was no choice but to go through with the interview. She stopped in front of the door, hesitated, then knocked.
“Come in,” a super deep male voice said.
She opened the door and saw that the guy in the parking lot had indeed been Mr. Hudson. He was sitting behind a messy desk. A really messy desk, and the rest of his office didn’t look all that neat either. Not dirty, just crazy cluttered. He had on a crumply short-sleeved green-and-white plaid shirt, and even though his shaggy, grayish, light brown hair and two-day scruff made him look a little disheveled, he had striking blue eyes. Decent looking for an old man.
“Kalista, right?”
“That’s me,” she said with a little wave.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to an old leather chair in front of the desk, then got up and walked to a tall filing cabinet. As she sat down, she noticed an old-fashioned typewriter on a short desk next to a larger desk with stacks of papers precariously balanced on the corners.
Mr. Hudson opened one of the drawers and thumbed through file folders, stopping in the middle and pulling out a sheet of paper. He shut the drawer and handed it to her. “Fill this out. I’ll be back.”
She took it and looked at the header.Clementine TimesApplication for Employment.
“Want some coffee?”
Coffee would be heavenly. “Espresso.”
His scruffy face broke out in a smirk. “Yeah. Right.” Then he walked out.
Humph. The sooner she finished this interview the better. Although Viv didn’t know the job Kalista was interviewing for—Bo hadn’t mentioned it to her—she assumed it was for the receptionist job since there was a desk but no receptionist in the waiting room. That gave her a little confidence. She would be the perfect receptionist since she was a pro at talking on the phone and telling people hello.
But she wasn’t sure she should take it if he offered it to her. She didn’t want to work in an old newspaper office. There had to be something else in Clementine that would be more suitable and fun. A salon or a spa. A cute little boutique even. This was all a formality.
She fished through her designer bag, found a pink pen with a fuzzy pom-pom on the end, and uncapped it, then filled in her name, address, and other simple-to-answer blanks until she got to the job history section.
List your last three jobs/positions.
What was she supposed to put here? The section was a table with the headings What, Where, and When.She wracked her brain and was about to skip the section entirely when an idea hit.
What: Office Aide.
Where: Beverly Hills High School
When: 2003
She smiled. That would work. Next question.
List any previous experience or skills you have for this position.
Kalista relaxed. Since she wasn’t accepting the job, she just wrote one sentence.
