1
Chris
I fussed with my hair,taming it into place with the last dregs of my hair gel, and hoped that the stress of this job interview didn't make it fall out.
The hair gel bottle let out a wheezing squeak as air gushed out of it. I threw out the empty bottle with a sigh. Just one more expense added to the list of things I couldn't afford.
No, no... I slapped my cheeks in an act of self encouragement. No more moping. Today was going to be the day that I got my dream job. I refused to imagine any other outcome.
Because it wasn't just me that needed this job. My daughter Zoey did too.
After my ex—and Zoey's alpha father—unceremoniously dumped me for an omega from "better breeding" (his words, not mine), things had been tough. Raising a kid was hard enough, but doing it alone on a thin, stretched out income was even worse. Of course, Zoey never went without anything. I'd give up whatever I had to if it meant Zoey having what she needed. My daughter was worth it.
My stomach growled, an ironic reminder of my self-sacrifice. There was only enough alphabet soup in the can for one meal last night. I didn't hesitate to pour it all in Zoey's bowl. But that meant going hungry at my job interview.
I patted my belly. Not a big deal. Hell, I could probably stand to lose some leftover pounds from having Zoey four and a half years ago. At least that was what I told myself as I exited the bathroom with a grumbling tummy.
Zoey was playing with an old, fraying plush toy. The thing was so ancient I didn't even remember what animal it was supposed to be anymore. She perked up when she saw me.
"Well? How do I look?" I asked, twirling around.
"Boring!" Zoey said.
I put my hands on my hips. "Boring? Why is that?"
Zoey put a finger to her lip in serious thought. "Hmm... You need a dress. I'll get one!"
Before I could say anything, Zoey abandoned the toy and raced to her room. Well, technically it was both of our rooms, since I could only afford a one-bedroom apartment. Ever since Zoey was old enough to realize that most kids had separate rooms, she'd been asking for one of her own. It broke my heart to tell her to just wait a little longer, and that one day she would have her own room soon. Hopefully getting this job would make that a reality.
Zoey returned with a child sized pink sparkling dress. Ah, yes.Thedress. Last winter, Zoey was upset and crying about all the other kids in the neighborhood having nice outfits. No parent wants to see their child upset. My heart couldn’t take it anymore, so I bought it for her with my measly holiday bonus at my last job. It was the nicest thing she owned and she was very proud of it.
She grinned and slapped it against me. "Put this on. It’s better than that boring outfit."
I laughed. "It's beautiful, but I don't think it's gonna fit on me, Zo."
"Yes it will," she insisted. "You didn't even try!"
I sighed. "Okay, I'lltry..."
I made a big show of putting my arm through the straps, careful not to rip them. The garment dangled off my arm, looking more like a pink bullfighting cape than a dress.
I raised a brow. "See?"
"Hmph. I was sure that would work," Zoey mumbled.
I ruffled her hair. "I appreciate it. But here, you should take your dress and put it back in the closet, okay?"
"Can I wear it to the inter... Interned..."
"Interview?" I offered.
She nodded. "Yeah!"
I thought about it. Since it was such a nice outfit, Zoey only wore it on special occasions. Was it really appropriate to let her wear a bright pink sparkly dress to my job interview? It wasn't like she was going to be in the room with me, but I didn't know if it would hurt my chances.
She stared up at me with wide, pleading eyes.
Oh, what was the harm? Who the hell cared if they saw a little girl wearing a glittery dress? If the manager of the store was so cold hearted that Zoey's outfit would hurt my chance at getting the position, then I didn't want to work there anyway.
