But if I was being real, I didn’t have any other options. Besides, I knew I could do the job—I was damned good at marketing.
I squared my shoulders, faked the confidence of someone with a five-figure savings account and a working espresso machine, picked up the phone, and dialed.
CHAPTER 4
FAITH
Only a crazy person would turn down an opportunity to work at one of the best companies in their field. And this place had the added benefit of being close to Amy’s walk-up on East 26thbetween Lex and 3rd. Which meant I probably wouldn’t get it, but at least I’d been asked to interview.
Even though you could get away with dressing a bit creatively in marketing, I decided to dress as “upmarket office” as I could, considering how Stephanie had been dressed. She was their HR manager, but still, she obviously appreciated a polished appearance.
Dressed in black stockings and court shoes, black pencil skirt—Mom would be pleased—boring white shirt, and black suit jacket, it was all I could do not to bite my nails as I sat stiffly opposite her assistant’s large, oak desk. The oak panel that formed the front of her station was lit with a subtle, blue LED shining from under the edge of the tabletop.
There were no other applicants here. Maybe they were staggering appointments to make the candidates less nervous. How many people were they interviewing for this job? There was no way I was getting it. It was nice to be asked, though. Even if I didn’t get this job, maybe it was a turning point, as Amy had said.
Turning point or not, I resisted the urge to put my earbuds in and calm myself with music. Intimidated didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. If I’d thought Amanda’s company was housed in luxury, this was ten timesmore, like the difference between a normal chicken and a bearded silkie. One was just a chicken, the other was a fluffball with five toes instead of four, a beard, and a pom-pom hairstyle. The extra froufrou added to the impressiveness. It was memorable and fun to look at.
Located in a 1920s high-rise on Madison Avenue, near East 24thStreet, opposite Madison Square Park, the building had all the grandeur and glamour of the era—coffered ceilings with oak beams and white insets, herringbone floors, even a chandelier in the foyer outside the elevators—expertly synchronized with modern flourishes and conveniences: state-of-the-art lighting, designer furniture, boldly colorful abstract art, beige, brown, gray, and blue rugs, and even a couple of chrome sculptures. My mother would be horrified I’d deigned to even enter the building, as if just by being here, I would taint it somehow, like a red-wine stain on your favorite white shirt. But I chose not to believe it. I wasn’t a stain. I was juicy grapes squished into a delicious beverage. I was a fine wine in its infant stage, waiting to mature and delight palates.
Stephanie’s office door opened before I could imagine what type of red wine I was, and I jerked my head toward it.
My heart raced.Calm yourself, woman.This isn’t nearly as bad as being held up, and you don’t even need to pee… that much. You got this.If I could get through being mugged, maybe I could get through anything.
The HR manager was dressed in a baby-blue Chanel tweedskirt suit. Her hair was in a chignon, as it had been the day we first met. Her smile was subdued as she looked at me. “Faith, please come in.” I stood on jelly legs, took a deep breath, and followed her in. She gestured to a small fawn-colored armchair in front of her thick-edged, waterfall-style walnut desk. It had a clean, modern look, but the warm wood fitted the luxury 1920s aesthetic. “Please take a seat.”
“Thank you, Miss Knight.”
“Please, call me Stephanie. After our shared café experience, I feel like we’re on a first-name basis. You saved all of us a lot of pain that day. Thank you.”
I smiled, again grateful I hadn’t wet myself, or I never would’ve had the guts to show myself today. “Well, your nephew did most of the work.” The image of Curtis straddling the creep, his broad shoulders straining his suit, chiseled face set in anger hijacked my brain. The hotness was too much, and I fanned my face with my hand.
“Are you all right?”
I lowered my hand. “Um, just the memory of it all.”
“It was stressful. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking when that horrible man was distracted, Curtis wouldn’t have had such a good opportunity to take advantage of. You’re very brave.”
My cheeks warmed. The sooner she stopped saying how awesome I was, the better. I cleared my throat. “Thank you. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“That makes two of us. I’m glad we all came out of it relatively unscathed. So, now we’ve gotten that out of the way, I appreciate you coming in today.” She was all professionalism, a mask of seriousness falling across her face.
“Thank you for asking me. I appreciate being able to apply for the role.” Argh, I hated formality. She’d been really nice so far, but did I want to work for these people? Could I trust them? After my last stint at a marketing firm, I wasn’t sure if it was wise to jumpback in. Not that Mark the Cheater and Amanda the Squeaky-Assed Boyfriend Stealer—I’ll never forget the sound her butt cheeks made sliding across Mark’s glass tabletop as they were doing the deed—had made it easy for me to get another job in the field. They’d refused to provide a reference and said if I told anyone I’d worked there, they’d tell anyone who called that I’d been fired for incompetence. Right. SoI’dbeen incompetent… as a doormat. Mark and his wandering penis were the ones who’d been incompetent… every time.
Unfortunately, Amy didn’t specialize in corporate contracts or wrongful terminations, and I didn’t have the money or the energy to get a lawyer and fight it.
Never again.
“Well, we need someone with initiative, and fresh ideas never go astray. It was clear from the café the other day that you’re certainly someone with initiative. You’re also courageous, and in this industry, that’s essential in being innovative.”
Ha, but I was only courageous under certain circumstances. Being invisible was where it was at. Confrontation wasn’t for me unless my back truly was against the wall, and then instinct took over. It was usually when I was too tired or fed up to control myself. Certain things pressed every last button I possessed, but I doubted many of them would be activated in a company this refined.
“I perused your website, and your freelance work is exceptional. You’re exactly the kind of person we need. But I do have some questions. According to your resume, you’ve been freelancing for two years, and your portfolio doesn’t really represent that much of a gap in time. Did you find it hard sourcing work?”
I held my expression in as neutral of a position as I could when all I wanted to do was growl and rant.Chill, Faith.You are a mermaid in a sea of hot chocolate. “At first it was difficult, but after a while, I only took jobs I resonated with. It also suited me to workpart-time because my mother’s been ill. I was back and forth taking care of her. She’s well now, though. But that’s why I was applying for the job at the café—I wasn’t sure how the gap period would look to any future employers. I’d decided to ramp up my contract work and supplement that income with another part-time job.” I hated lying—I only did it when necessary, and if I wanted any chance at this company, it was super necessary. If I managed to land the job, they’d see how hard I worked, and if they ever found out the truth far, far into the future, it wouldn’t be an issue… hopefully. Once they knew me, if they ever questioned me about it, surely they’d believe me when I told them what had happened.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your mother. I’m glad she’s well again. So, you won’t need time off to help her?”
“No. My stepsister is living with her now, so it’s all good.” Not that Brandy would ever lift a bubble-gum-pink, taloned finger to help anyone but herself. So, two lies down. How many more to go?
