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I pour a glass of water and take my pain pills.
They’ll kick in soon. Probably just in time to let me get through the corporate job interview.
I really should keep the pills in my purse. That way I can take them before I have to drag my ass out of bed. I put them in there now, so I won’t forget later.
At least I’m not feeling nervous.
I’ve basically had one interview my whole life.
Two in one day now, and potentially a lot more before I actually get offered something?
The thought makes me sigh.
I’m so not cut out for this.
Don’t be so defeatist, Leanne. You need a job, and you’ll get one.
It doesn’t matter how many interviews it takes.
There’s no time for a coffee stop, so I walk straight to Anchor West’s building which is only a couple blocks away. I don’t have any trouble finding it. The building stands on its own, and it takes up a lot of space. It’s at least ten times bigger than my apartment building, and the exterior is all black glass and grey marble.
Okay. Now, I’m nervous.
Steeling myself, I take a mirror out of my purse and check my face. Make-up still looks fine. Hair is staying where it should. It’s just my head that’s a damn mess.
I should have studied for this.
There’s probably some kind of competency test or something.
I coasted through my one and only interview in Silver Lake.
The woman in charge thought I seemed confident, when in reality, I was still a little drunk from the night before. What I wouldn’t give to have a shot of Dutch courage now.
I put the mirror away, and I find the entrance door.
A woman in a blue skirt-suit approaches as I pull the door open.
She looks like she knows where she’s going, so I hold the door for her, before I step inside after.
The interior is as impressive as the outside of the building.
Every surface is shiny and black. The floor looks like an oilslick, but thankfully it’s not slippery.
The woman in blue approaches the reception desk and flashes an I.D. badge.
She turns to me and smiles.
I smile back.
“Leanne Leto, am I right?” she asks, an eyebrow raised.
“Um, yes, actually,” I answer. “How did you …”
“You’re my interview,” she tells me. “I’m Rita Purvis.”
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” I gush.
“Sign in here, and Janice will give you a visitor’s pass. Then we can get right to it, if you’re ready?”
