“Doubtful.”
“What does the job entail?” I asked, taking the open chair in front of his desk. Since it felt like there was nothing to lose, and my feet were hurting in these heels, I decided things couldn’t get worse. I was way too late for the other interview at this point.
“You assist me. You run errands, get coffee when I ask, make appointments, keep track of my schedule.”
My eyes widened. “And you need a college degree forthat?”
“I didn’t say you needed one, I was simply noting you didn’t have one. I guarantee you everyone out there in that lobby-”
“Empty lobby,” I corrected him.
“Everyone who had been in that lobby had a college degree, if not an MBA.”
“To bring you coffee?” I rolled my eyes. “That’s crazy.”
“Not really,” he said, planting his elbows on the desk. “They want the opportunity to work for me.”
“You’re a bigwig?” I surmised.
“Some might say. You don’t know who I am?”
I saw the sign outside the office door. E.G.A. Associates. It didn’t mean anything to me. I figured it was the initials of the person who owned what I thought was a marketing company.
I shook my head. “E.G.A. Edward. George-”
“Evan. Evan Grant Allen. That’s who I am.”
“That’s an impressive name,” I admitted. “My name is verynotimpressive. I’m a little jealous. Of your name. It’s Anna, by the way. You were pretty quick on that first no, so maybe you didn’t catch it on the resume. Anna Flowers.”
“Anna Flowers is your name?” he asked, like he didn’t believe it. “You sound like a Disney princess.”
“Not sure I’ve heard that one before,” I said, dryly.
I’d basically heard that one every time I’d ever told anyone my full name. Mostly it made me want to stab people. But I refrained today. He hadn’t called security to kick me out of his office so far, and I was going to take that as a win.
“What if you gave me a chance? A real chance to interview for this job,” I suggested.
His left eyebrow lifted. “You couldn’t get the office suite number correct and you think you deserve a chance?”
He wasn’t wrong. “What I lack in number retention I make up for with tenacity. Besides, you don’t have anyone left to interview unless you start over tomorrow. And I have to say, you were going through candidates pretty quickly.”
Another scowl. It made the wrinkles line up on his forehead.
“I can tell almost immediately when something is going to work or not,” he said. “I only need the one question.”
I lifted my hands and made the universal sign forbring it.
He stopped scowling then. “You want me to ask you this question?”
“I’m here. I’m one hundred percent confident I can be your assistant. I’m not a crier. Nothing scares me. And I’ve already told you I’m desperate for the job, which is a pretty good motivator for success. What’s the big question that’s going to trip me up?”
He paused for a second and I could tell he was about to act against his instincts. He leaned back in his chair away from the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a charcoal gray knit sweater. Nothing too fancy, but I bet it cost a mint.
“Fine. Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Cake,” I said, assessing the difficulty of the question. “Alive, with shelter and food.”
“That’s your answer?” he laughed, clearly surprised. “You want to be alive, have shelter and food. In five years?”
