“What is it now, Alfonso?” I don’t keep the growl out of my tone. He’s known me long enough to accept me for my bad moods. Well, his paycheck grants me an exception. That and he knows if I get rid of him, all his “eye candy,” as he says, goes away.
I really don’t care what keeps him here, just as long as he does it and doesn’t disturb my work.
“The part-time applicants are here.”
Shit. I forgot that was today. Might explain why my assistant is “sick.” One of their jobs is to do the final vetting on all employees. I used to do it, but the business took off, so now I pay other people to do it for me. My assistant is meant to be of the same mind, picking people who would be a good fit for the company.
The legit side of it.
The other side, the one connected to thefamiglia, is under my control. At least now it is. After what happened withDante, I implemented a few new rules. One being that I’m to be involved in every new hire from this point on. I handpick those for thefamiglia, but my assistant does the other side. Of course I’ll still get the final say in that as well, but they do the interviews, and I do the last screening.
“Fine. Set them up in interview room 4.”
I stand and put on my jacket, taking a few extra moments to make sure I look presentable before leaving my office. My secretary’s fast on my heels as we make our way to the elevator and go to the third floor. There are people in the hallway when we exit the elevator, but they all know to get out of my way.
I note four people outside the interview room, sitting in the small gathering space we have for applicants to wait. Two men and two women. I briefly catch eyes with each one before I enter the room and sit.
“Oh, hell no,” I hear one man say, followed by the telltale signs of plastic shoes running in the opposite direction.
“And then there were three,” I say to Alfonso, who only smirks as he waits at the still-open door.
“Are you ready to begin?” I have no notes or résumés before me. Nothing for me to be swayed by. Résumé questions are rehearsed. I prefer seeing a man or woman sweat under my full attention while we just talk so I can figure them out.
Alfonso will take some notes, mostly for human resources, but the rest will be my gut feeling. It’s never led me wrong before, and I doubt it will this time.
“Let’s begin.”
Alfonso nods and leaves to retrieve our first victim—I mean candidate. When we’re looking to hire someone, we try to keep the details vague, mostly to avoid some undercover news reporter trying to get an angle. Despite that, once people find out who they’ll be working for, even if it’s indirectly like this part-time financial analyst job is, they still run.
Case in point, the fourth applicant who’s probably peeing himself right now.
When the door opens, I rise on pretense and hold out my hand to the woman who walks in.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Bobby Leone. And you are?”
“Willow. Willow Frazzer.”
