“She’s practically peeing herself right now,” I divulged.
Mads sighed and came to join me where I was sitting with my knees tucked under my chin. “Babes, you’ve walked this pathbefore a million times. You know that worrying like this is not going to make things any easier.”
“I know, I know. It’s just old habits, I guess,” I mumbled.
Mads tilted her head. “And where did those habits bring you? Any closer to your goal?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Exactly. But whatdidactually help you calm down and actually contribute something of value to said goal?”
“Preparing,” I answered.
“There we go. So while you get ready, I’m going to rapid-fire test you with some questions. Does that sound good to you?” She stood to her feet.
The determined expression on her face told me I didn’t really have much of a choice. “Did I ever tell you I was lucky to have you?”
“Not nearly as often as you should,” she replied.
*
Mads had the idea to go and grab lunch at the Poet’s Plate, an overpriced cafe that sold awful coffee but happened to be located right across the street from the Muller & Co. offices. I was staring at the entrance to the main building now while pretending to pick at my full tramezzini stack. I loved that there wasn’t some solid wall encompassing the place, but that instead it looked like the building had been integrated into the environment.
There was an interesting blend of materials that made up the sharp-edged geometric block; high-tech glass was grounded by textured concrete and stone, paying homage to the surrounding neighborhood.
“You know what would really make a good first impression?” Mads’ voice drew my attention back to our shared table. She was looking at me with a patient expression despite the tidal wave of sarcasm I knew was coming my way. “Your stomach grumbling with hunger. I think that would just blow their minds, really. Shows the dedication that got you this gig, very sexy.”
“I can’t eat,” I said, resting my elbows on the table. “I can’t drink either. I probably won’t be able to go back to normal until this is all over and I can finally relax.”
Mads reached over and took my knife and fork in hand, then cut a tiny corner off one of the tramezzini breads. She speared it with the fork, then passed it back to me. “Here. You need to get something in your system.”
I took the fork in defeat.
“I’ll be waiting right here until your meeting is over. We’re going out celebrating the second you walk out of there,” she said with full confidence.
I sucked in a breath. “Thank you, Mads. You have no idea how much I appreciate you.”
And I did. Ronan, Lucas and Oren had all either called or texted with their own good luck wishes, but I truly don’t know what I would’ve done without my best friend. Except make her proud, I supposed. I glanced at the time on my phone.
“Okay, there’s about ten minutes left. I should probably head up now. I’d rather be early than late,” I said, standing up and gathering my things.
“You’ve got this,” Mads said with a reassuring smile.
I hope I did.
I followed all the rules and agonized over every step up until this point. Every summer vacation and party I gave up to inhalethe smell of mothballs in the library while I studied had led up to this moment. I’d done the hard work, crafted my speeches, networked and put myself out there. Oren had said that he was going to put in a good word with Johnson and Johnson said he would recommend me to the board.
All of the pieces were theoretically on the board. I just had to step onto it myself now.
Right as I turned to leave, an email notification popped up on my phone. I paused to check it out and my heart sank when I saw the “from” line. It was Sarah Langston, the Talent Acquisition Specialist for Muller & Co. My thumb trembled as I opened the email.
Dear June Price,
We regret to inform you that your interview scheduled today at our business offices has been canceled and that we will not be advancing your application. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience this late change may cause to your schedule.
Regards,
Sarah Langston
