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But when I answer it, bracing myself for the worst, it’s actually good news.
It’s one of the attorneys I sent my resume to, and he wants me to come in for a meeting. This afternoon. I almost drop the phone in shock.
He’s a bit of an ambulance chaser, has these cheesy commercials on TV, but he says he’s been thinking of taking on an associate to work with him and right now, I can’t afford to be picky. So I set up an appointment for three-thirty today and when I hang up, I let out a little hoot of excitement.
Leo comes rushing out of the office, his features like stone, in full battle mode. “What’s wrong?” he barks as he scans the room, his gaze laser focused. As his eyes jump to me, a mixture of worry and confusion crosses his face. “You yelled. Are you okay?”
“Yes!” I beam at him, and he looks even more confused. “I got an interview. For a job with an actual attorney!”
His posture relaxes, and he grins at me.“Oh, Charlie, that’s great.”
“What’s great?” In my excitement, I didn’t even hear Rylan come through the door.
Turning to face him, I share my good news. “I got an interview. With an attorney. Today.”
Rylan drops his workout bag on the floor and walks toward me, a smile spreading across his face. “Ah, Charlie, that’s amazing.”
I bounce toward him, more optimistic than I’ve been in a while. “And look—” I gesture at the TV. “Leo helped me get all this out of storage. So we can play some of the classic games later.”
Then the same doubt from earlier sweeps over me, and I add, more quietly, “If you want to, I mean. I thought it might be fun…”
Rylan wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a quick hug. “Charlie, I think it sounds like a great idea. A job interview, and all these games for later. I love it.”
The office is not as nice as I’d hoped it would be.
It’s not bad, exactly. The building itself is in decent condition, clean, nothing fancy, just two floors filled with an assortment of businesses—an accountant, a small temp agency, and computer repair services. The elevator works, which is also a good sign, though as we walk through the entrance, Rylan grumbles, “The security is sub-par. If you start working here, we’ll have to do something about that.”
But the law office needs some work. The reception area is barren, just a worn couch and a desk with scratches and dings all over it. No decorations, no plants, just stark white walls and a dingy gray carpet. The receptionist is young and is more concerned with her phone than me, though her eyes do widen in appreciation once she sees Rylan.
A little niggle of worry digs into my gut, but I force myself to ignore it.
Just because this place isn’t as nice as the office I used to work in doesn't mean there’s anything wrong with it. And Mark Halsey is the first attorney who’s shown any interest in hiring me. So I need to get over my superficial first impression and worry more about convincing this guy to hire me.
The receptionist drags her gaze away from Rylan long enough to glance at me. “You here for the interview?”
“I am,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“K. Just go down the hallway, first door on the right. He’s expecting you.” Then she jumps out of her seat, snatches up her phone, and heads for the door. “I’m done at three-thirty, so I’m out.”
Okay. At her rushed exit, I exchange a look with Rylan. He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head in a who knows gesture.
“I’d better get in there,” I tell him, while my stomach churns nervously.
His jaw clenches, and I know it’s because he’s not thrilled about me going in there on my own. But as I explained earlier, it’s an interview. With another attorney. Not only would it look weird to bring Rylan in there with me, but there could also be concerns about privacy, especially if salary or benefits come up.
Rylan’s gaze sweeps across my face, and his features soften. Sinking onto the couch, he says, “You’re going to do great, hun. I’ll be right out here waiting for you.”
I want to hug him but instead I head toward the hallway, forcing my mind back to all the possible interview questions that could come up and hoping really hard that Mark Halsey isn’t active on social media.
The first ten minutes of the interview are pretty typical. Questions about education and work experience and my areas of expertise. Though Mark does let his gaze linger on my legs more than once, which is a little disconcerting. But I’ve worked with guys like that at every job, and if he doesn’t take it further than that, I’m willing to ignore it.
It’s at the fifteen minute mark that the interview veers into unfamiliar territory. That’s when Mark gets up from his desk and comes around to lean on the edge of it in front of me. Now he’s only a couple of feet away, which is uncomfortable, and I’m stuck craning my neck up to look at him.
“Charlie,” he says, “I understand it’s been hard to find a new job, given”—he pauses, giving me a meaningful look—“everything.”
Oh crap. So he does use social media.
Heart pounding, I try to keep my nerves at bay. “It has been difficult. But I can assure you, I am dedicated to my job. And I’m working with a company that will clear up this issue.”
