And honestly, Ineedthis job.
“You can just take a seat here,” a heavily pregnant woman with graying hair peers up at me. “This won’t take long.”
“It can take the time it takes.” I keep my voice pleasant and take a seat, trying my best to steady my racing heart.
The woman, Dr. Shelby Shannon, sets her pen down. “Honestly, we’re just happy that you applied. I’m seriously in a time crunch. I’m supposed to start maternity leave tomorrow, and we’ve hadzeroapplicants.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I frown, feigning the distress on her behalf, like the lack of competition isn’t exactly what I need. “I’m sure that’s been really stressful.”
“Something like that,” she laughs it off lightly. “But anyway, um,” she picks through a stack of papers. “I have to say that your resume was impressive. I’m shocked you’re not going for a higher value college.”
“Well, I’m taking some time off to focus on my own writings,” I lie, keeping the smile on my face. “I’m kind of in a transition in my life, so this interim position would work perfect while I figure out where I’m going from here.”
She nods. “I completely understand. This will be pretty basic. I just need you to take over my course—the entire semester has already been planned and syllabus have been given out to students. They’ll know what to expect.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” I say, because honestly, it’s a fucking relief I won’t have to consult Google for this entire endeavor. “I’ll make sure to stick to your plans for the classes.”
She nods, her hair bobbing around her chin. “I really think you’ll do fine. You’ll need to do the final paperwork, and I’ve already submitted for background checks.”
Oh fuck.
“You’ll get an official email today or tomorrow with the job offer, as long as the background check clears.” Her warm brown eyes hold mine. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
I let out a light laugh. “Of course.”
Dr. Shannon brushes some of her hair out of her face. “My guess is this is probably the easiest job interview you’ve ever had.” Her cheeks grow a deep ruddy shade, but I wave her off.
“Honestly, it’s a blessing,” I say, keeping my voice light. “I’ve ran my savings pretty tight. Like I said, I’m in a bit of a transition period.” My voice dips slightly with emotion, and I inwardlycringe at the partial truth that hurts a little more than I want to admit.
Her expression softens more, and she opens her mouth to say more, when there’s a sharp knock on the door. She holds up her index finger to me, and then calls out, “Yes?”
“It’s Molly Bradford,” a sweet, soft voice replies on the other side of the door. “I just need to drop off my essay.”
Dr. Shannon sighs. “Of course, come in.”
The heavy wooden door creaks as it swings in, narrowly missing the back of my chair. In walks a dark headed, blue eyed young woman, weighed down by a backpack. She’s holding a packet of papers—which I assume is the essay.
“I know you’re leaving tomorrow, and so I wanted to get this to you,” Molly, I presume, walks right up to the desk. She doesn’t even notice me sitting in the chair, and I don’t bother to question it.
Kids will be kids.
“I know you requested hard copies since you’ll have the interim professor,” the student continues to rattle off. “I was freaking out. My mom’s new boyfriend has totally taken over my mom’s home office, and like, I couldn’t even use the stupid printer.”
I raise my brows at the overshare.
“I take it you went to your dad’s?” Dr. Shannon doesn’t even miss a beat with the info dump, like it’s completely normal to talk about highly personal things.
“Yeah,” her voice drops in a way that I don’t understand. “He’s been so strung out lately though. With the farm.”
“Closing season tends to be like that,” Dr. Shannon takes the essay from the girl. “Also, this will probably be who takes my place for the remainder of the class.” She gestures to me, and the girl whips her head around, eyes wide.
“Oh.I didn’t even see you there. I’m so sorry.”
Story of my life.
“It’s okay.” I smile. I’m used to just flying under the radar. I’m the kind of woman who can stand next to someone I went to school with in my small town, and they don’t even come close to remembering me.
It used to be an insult.
