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“Hi, I’m Britney,” she says in a mellifluous voice. “I’m here for the job interview? As a cashier?”
I catch a glimpse of Kathy’s shadow as she walks away, and I swear, I can hear my employee chuckling. She knows the kind of woman I like, and Britney fits it to a tee. The young woman has long, curly brown hair; big caramel-colored eyes; and a voluptuous figure that makes my mouth water. Her breasts are large, although they’re modestly covered in a blouse, and the pencil skirt only emphasizes her wide hips and long legs.
“Sure, come in,” I manage to say in a normal voice. “I’ve got five minutes.”
She nods and bites her lip.
“Thanks,” she says, looking down before seating herself in the chair before my desk. “I appreciate your time, Mr. Hemsworth.”
Then she takes a deep breath and looks at me with wide eyes, cocking her chin to the side a bit.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice a bit rougher than necessary. “Do I have something on my face?”
She laughs breathlessly and looks away. “No, sorry. I just … I was expecting you to be really old.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, I’ve heard that the guy who owns this grocery store has owned it for a long time, and his family owned it before that. I assumed that meant you were an ancient, elderly man.”
I chuckle.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“No, it’s okay,” Britney smiles. “It just shows that life is never quite like what you expect it to be.”
Then, she blushes beet red.
“I’m so sorry,” Britney apologizes. “You must think I’m so unprofessional. We should be talking about my qualifications and why I want this job, not your family.”
“Not at all. But in fact, you’re right. The Hemsworths have owned ShopMore for a long time now. It was started by my grandfather back in the day when he didn’t have much more than a corner deli. But tell me why you’re here,” I say. “What draws you to ShopMore?”
She takes a deep breath but before she can speak, her stomach rumbles. She clasps her arms around her tummy, face going bright red.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she gasps. “That was loud!”
I merely lean back in my chair, chuckling.
“No, it’s no problem. But where are my manners? Here,” I say leaning back and opening a desk drawer. “Would you like a granola bar? It’s chocolate chip and banana, which is a weird combo, but I swear it tastes good.”
The girl hesitates, but I can see her eyes ravenously consuming the granola bar. Hmm, interesting. Most girls barely have an appetite, but obviously, Britney is different. Then she nods quickly and takes it from me. With efficient movements, she strips the granola bar of its wrapper and devours it in a few bites.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a tissue. “I appreciate that. I didn’t have breakfast this morning.”
I nod like nothing’s wrong, but my mind is going a million miles a minute. I can tell that there’s something different about this girl, but I’m not quite sure what it is yet. Was she really that hungry? Come to think of it, I didn’t have breakfast this morning either, but I’ve never been so hungry I had to eat during an interview. However, this isn’t the moment to ask. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, so I merely nod and smile.
“So what brings you here?” I ask again. “Why do you think you’re a fit for ShopMore?”
She pauses for a moment before taking a big breath and looking me in the eye.
“Mr. Hemsworth, I could tell you a bunch of drivel, but I’m going to be honest. No one else in town is open, and my brother and I need to earn some money. I thought I would see if you’re hiring.”
Britney stares down at the ground. Is she embarrassed to admit that she and her brother need help? That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone is struggling right now. In fact, when I drove by the food bank this morning, the line was longer than I’ve ever seen it. It was a parking lot full of cars, and the faces at the wheel were tense, nervous and worried.
My heart went out to them because ShopMore is actually a big supporter of the food bank. We send our leftover produce and meat to the non-profit every week, and it’s my way of helping my community. My store may be struggling, but I know a lot of people are much worse off at the moment. The least I can do is try to ease other people’s burdens.
I shake my head and chuckle.
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “I appreciate a little honesty every now and then, and frankly, that’s as good of a reason as any. So tell me about yourself,” I invite.
