“Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out,” I tell him. Great first impression. I’m good at those.
“Wow, look at you, fancy pants. Did Chef Hotpants from yesterday offer you a job over the phone ?”
Ignore her, and she’ll go away.
“Just a job interview. Nothing to get too excited about yet.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing a low-cut shirt can’t handle,” Kricket continues. “I’ve got handcuffs too, if that’s more your style?” Wow. Okay. I can’t do this.
Rather than focus on Kricket’s snide smirk, I take a quick look at Krow, who is bawling her eyes out. “Cereal was Richard’s favorite breakfast,” she groans and sniffles between words.
Kricket places her hand down on Krow’s wrist. “No, Krow. No. Richard only ate eggs for breakfast. You told me he wouldn’t eat cereal because it did nothing for his body. Remember?”
“But still,” she cries out.
And, we’re done here. Again.
It’s not even eight-thirty in the morning, and I’m already exhausted from today.
Chapter 9
A pair of black leggings,a hot pink camisole, and a navy-blue blazer will complete my look for the interview with Noah. As I turn from side-to-side, staring at the wall-length mirror, I wonder if a lower-cut shirtcouldhelp me snag this job. Clearly, the guy does not have space issues after watching his interaction with the hostess, Lavish, yesterday.
I tug on my camisole, creating a slight bit of cleavage. Just enough.
I have a college degree. I should be able to get a job without my breasts, but I won’t pretend like the world abides by the notion of hiring someone based on their skillful capabilities alone.
Every time I walk downstairs, I find Kricket and Krow in a different corner of the villa. They’re either eating or on their phones, and I’m wondering what they typically do all day when they’re not working—other than lounging on the couch with a bowl of grapes, of course.
“You look classy,” Kricket says.
“I’m heading to my interview at the restaurant,” I tell her, grabbing my purse from the kitchen table.
“I can’t believe that guy actually called you after you walked face first into a street lamp.”
“Yeah,” I say, sounding as winded and exhausted from just responding to her.
Nogood luck. Nogoodbye. Not even a blink as I walk past the TV and out the door.
I find myself walking quickly through the cul-de-sac to reach the curb faster than necessary. It only takes a few minutes to make my way down to the restaurant. With the floor to ceiling windows boxing in the front of The Clam Pit, I spot Noah James hovering over Miss Lavish again. It’s clear something is going on between those two.
She’s beautiful, so it’s understandable.
I take in a deep breath before pulling open the glass door. I can do this.
“Ashley,” Noah greets me immediately. “It’s so nice to see you again.” He glances down at his watch, “And you’re early. That’s what I like to see.” He nods his head toward the back of the restaurant. “Come, follow me to my office.”
“I have a thing about being on time,” I tell him, stealing a line from the career development class I took last winter. Being punctual is my biggest weakness. It’s a joke, but if it kisses the right ass and works, so be it. Besides, I wouldn’t mind kissing his ass a little.
We walk through the kitchen doors. There isn’t a whole lot of activity going on back here, but the restaurant is relatively empty at the moment too. Everything is clean and covered in brushed steel. The kitchen I used to work in was outdated with old equipment, so it’s nice to see they most likely have good upgrades.
A steel door at the end of the area we’re walking through looks as if it could be a walk-in freezer. However, when Noah opens the door, I’m surprised to find a stairwell. We walk up what must be two flights of stairs, that lead into an office enclosed by full-length windows, overlooking the beach.
The office is simple and barren except for an executive desk, a well-padded leather chair, and a laptop.
“This is beautiful,” I tell him.
“My dream was to work on the beach. So, here we are,” Noah says.
