Page 48 of Birthright


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“I suppose that’s…promising.” I swallow hard.

The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach makes my muscles tense. Did he tell Melissa I was going to be calling about a job, or was he planning to do so? Would I walk into an interview with the manager already knowing what kind of coffee I like?

“Good night, Cherry,” Nate says softly.

I can still hear him breathing into the phone as if there is something more he wants to say.

“Good night, Nate,” I finally reply.

I pause, staring at the phone until he ends the call, then sit back and continue to stare at the blank screen for a moment, processing the conversation in my head.

At least I know it wasn’t just the alcohol talking last night. He was charming and clearly interested in seeing me again. Did I want to see him? Yes, of course I did. In fact, I couldn’t wait to see him again.

“Don’t be such a pushover,” I mutter. “You don’t know anything about this guy except that he’s rich, and that is not a plus.”

Jessie told me to be careful.

I consider knocking on Jessie’s door and demanding an explanation, but I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for her level of energy at this time of night. I yawn.

Nate was right about one thing; I need to get some sleep.

Chapter 9—Interview

“Have you ever dealt with governmental forms?”

I plaster what I hope is a confident smile on my face as I try to stop my hands from shaking. Interviews have always scared the crap out of me though I’ve never actually had an interview where I didn’t get the job. Then again, I’ve only interviewed twice in my life before today. I felt the same way as I do now even though the interviewers had been friends of my aunt’s.

“Well, I’ve filed taxes,” I say, still smiling.

Melissa raises an eyebrow, clearly not amused.

“No, outside of that I really haven’t had the opportunity.”

“They can be really complicated,” Melissa says, “or rather, unintuitive and ridiculously repetitive. Once the tree surveys are done, all the forms have to be filled out the proper way.”

“I’m sure I can figure that out,” I say. “I’m very meticulous.”

“That’s a plus.” Melissa stares down at my resume.

“I have references, too.” I quickly pull out another sheet of paper from my folder. “One is from my manager at the diner, and the other is from the head librarian. I know they aren’t local, but I’m sure they’ll tell you I was always on time and hardly ever had to call off work.”

“Hmm.” Melissa doesn’t look up.

I swallow, lick my lips, and stare awkwardly at the paper on the table, not sure what to do next. My nervousness is getting the better of me, and no amount of box breathing seems to be helping.

“I don’t really know a lot about the maple syrup industry,” I say quickly, “but I do love the outdoors, and the forest here is beautiful.”

“This position wouldn’t be directly involved with Rosa Syrup processing,” Melissa says, still not looking up. “We provide more of a preparatory step with the information we gather going to both the state and the industry.”

“Well, I can certainly count trees!” I laugh, then quickly stifle myself. I bite my lip, hoping I hadn’t just blown it.

Melissa raises an eyebrow at me.

“Relax,” she says. “You’ve got the job. I just need to do a background check, but I’m sure that will all be fine unless you have a history of setting forest fires I should know about.”

“No, ma’am, I do not.”

“Good to know. Don’t call me ma’am again. It’s just Melissa.”

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