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“Uh huh,” I murmur, trying not to be rude, but hoping not to invite a conversation.
He’s quiet for a moment as I type the wi-fi code into my tablet, but he starts talking again once I bring up a job site on the screen.
“Oh, are you looking for work?”
I press my lips together before I look back up at him.
He holds his hands up. “Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just … There’s a local site if you’re looking for something in the city. Most of the businesses don’t advertise on the national sites because they don’t have to. You’ll be missing out if you don’t use the local one.”
He sips at his drink, and I look back down at the listings.
There really doesn’t seem to be a lot on the page for Cressidan City.
Looking back up, I give him a wry smile. “You got me. I’m new in town. What’s the local site?”
“Cressidan City Local,” he tells me. “There should be a link to the employment section in the top right corner.”
I look up the page and click the link to the job section, which contains so many listings, I barely know where to start.
“Wow,” I murmur, as I start to scroll.
“There are filters down the side,” the guy says.
“Right.” I see them, and immediately, I know I can get rid of the graduate only positions.
I feel a little weird about clicking that filter with a stranger watching, but I’m in the city now.
There’s probably always going to be someone close enough to me to see what I’m doing.
Half the listings disappear.
When I glance up at the guy I’m sharing my table with he’s drinking his hot chocolate, and letting his gaze move around the room. I get the distinct impression he’s trying not to be nosy, but he’s definitely the curious type.
I look back down and check my options out of what’s left.
I end up having to choose another filter.
This time, it’s to narrow the search down to my limited field of experience.
Clerical and Administrative work.
Ten listings are left.
Two of them are on the city limits, which would be a pain in the ass.
Another two want the right person to take on a degree part time while they work.
Out of the six that are left, one stands out as interesting, and another as well paid.
“Find anything?” the guy asks, as he sets his cup down.
“Maybe,” I tell him, my eyes scanning the P.I. Assistant/Receptionist’s role.
It’s probably silly, but I always wanted to be a detective.
This wouldn’t make me one, but it would let me work for one.
That might actually be fun.
