Don’t say it, Poppy, don’t bloody say it. . . but I did and I wanted to kick myself the second it came rushing out of my mouth. “Fluent in it!”Fuck!Why had I just said that? What was wrong with me?
“Interesting,” he said. “Of course, Spanish is of no use here in South Africa. It would be better if you were fluent in isiZulu.”
Please don’t lie about being fluent in Zulu. . . I mentally begged myself because I seemed to have suddenly lost all control of the things that were flying out of my mouth. I’d always babbled when I was nervous, but this was a new low, even for me. My mouth started to open before I could stop myself. “Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika,” I said quickly.
He looked at me. Strangely. “Miss Granger, I’m fully aware of what our national anthem is.”
“Of course you are. Yes, of course you are. I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t.” I looked down at my lap, feeling defeated. Another silence followed.
“This is a job interview, Miss Granger. You’re supposed to be selling yourself to me.”
“Selling?” I looked up at him again.
“Why should I hire you?” he asked, sounding irritated.
“Uh, um . . . uh?” My mouth wasn’t working properly. And neither was my brain. He was so gorgeous and terrifying. It was a deadly combination. I tried to adjust my big glasses that were slipping down my small nose, but it was too late. They dropped to the floor with a loudthunk.
“Sorry!” I threw myself onto the floor.Shit!My glasses had made their way under his desk. I lay down flat and stuck my arm out, trying to retrieve them. I finally grabbed them, put them back on and shot back up to the chair as quickly as I could. “Sorry about that! Slippery little things.” I flashed him another smile but he didn’t reciprocate. He pointed at me, deadpan expression etched into his face.
“They’re cracked,” he said flatly.
“Oh?” I looked down my nose at my glasses; a large crack had indeed appeared in one of the lenses.
“Well?” he asked.
“Well what?” I was swimming in a state of nervous confusion now, more like drowning in it. Nothing was going well. My glasses had cracked and I was on the verge of cracking . . . it was all just too much.Please don’t cry too!
“Job! Hire you! Why?” He spat the words out.
“Oh. That. Why should you hire me?” I adjusted my glasses again, this time because I needed to give my hands something to do.
“Tick, tick, tick, Miss Granger. I have lots of important things to do, so if you’re not going to talk to me, I must insist that this is over.” He flashed me a cold, hard look.
“Okey-dokey,” I quickly jumped in. “You should employ me because I am . . . am . . . because . . .” I paused again.He shouldn’t hire me!At all. I had no qualifications, I had no idea what the hell I would do if I worked here, and I was wearing a stupid disguise. In all honesty, I was the last person on earth he should hire.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors here, Miss Granger. Because with every second that passes, I want to hire you less and less.” He tapped his foot and it made the desk wobble. “Miss Granger?” he asked again.
But by now, I was beyond forming any kind of coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. And I feared that if I stayed in the room for a second longer, I might find myself with my whole leg in my mouth, not just my foot.
“I’m so sorry!” I shot up out of my chair. “I think there’s been some kind of terrible misunderstanding here.” I backed away from his massive desk.Had they used an entire forest to make it?
“What kind of misunderstanding?” He stood up. God, he was tall. Tall and big in all the right places. And did I mention intimidating as hell? He towered above me like the steel building itself.
“I think I’m in the wrong place.” I looked around the room frantically. “Wrong job interview, even. I think, maybe, I’m supposed to be somewhere else . . .” I edged towards the door.
“Somewhere else, where?” He started walking around his desk and I wanted to turn and run.
“Mmmm, where indeed? Now that is a big question, isn’t it? Where are any of us meant to be, really?” I said.
He stopped walking and I was sure I could see the slightest smile on his lips. “A philosopher as well as an assistant?” He was mocking me now.
“What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents.”
“Really?” He kept approaching me and I wanted to run. I could feel the door behind me and I’d never wanted out of one so badly. Suddenly a scene from the telenovela came to mind.
Oh God, I had to do it. How else was I going to get myself out of this?I looked out the window behind him and feigned dramatic shock. I brought my hand up to my face and gasped. And then slowly, with shaking fingers, I pointed.
“He’s returned. He’s coming for us. Run!” I said in that voice that Ramona had used so many times before. Low, slow and dragged out for added dramatic effect.
