Page 3 of Misadventures of a Biker

I stared at the question, wondering what I could do differently.

Excluding that question, I filled out the application and placed it in the folder. Hearing the click-clack, click-clack of an approaching pair of heels, I pushed everything aside and turned my chair toward the door.

A petite blonde stepped through the doorway and paused. The buttermilk tone of her poker-straight hair was about as credible as my personality profile responses. Massive fake boobs heaved out of the plunging neckline of her bright-yellow dress with each breath. In contrast to her age—which I guessed to be in the mid-thirties—her deep brown skin was leathery and sun-spotted from overexposure to Southwest Florida’s sun.

I stood. “Teddi?”

“Janine.” She looked me up and down. “Janine Bazoli.”

Her Jersey accent was subtle but impossible to hide completely.

“I’m Devin,” I said. “I’m applying for the receptionist’s position.”

“Yeah.” She gave me another quick look. “So I heard.”

“Out of curiosity.” I turned to face her. “Are there any men in this office?”

“Including you, there’s one.”

“How many women?”

“Four full-time and one part-time,” she replied. “That doesn’t include Theresa Bianchi’s skinny little ass, who uses this office to do her deals because the lying bitch doesn’t have a Realtor’s license.”

Before I could comment, she continued.

“You can tell her I said that, too. I’d say it to her face if she was standing beside you.”

Several of the men I was in prison with were from New Jersey. One thing they all had in common was that their attitudes preceded them. Apparently that held true with Jersey’s women, as well.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever have the opportunity to meet her,” I said. “But I’ll make a mental note of what you said, just in case.”

She nodded toward the folder. “Kate said all she’s waiting for is for you to fill out those papers.”

“She told you I have the job?” I asked, expressing more excitement than I intended.

“Yeah.” She looked at me like I was an idiot. “I just said that.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” I picked up the folder. “I’m going to take this stuff to her.”

I rushed past Janine and into the hallway, hoping I wasn’t wrong about my interpretation of Kate. With the employment packet pinched in the web of my hand, I stepped in front of her open door.

She peered over the top of her monitor. “Oh, are you done?”

“More or less,” I said. “I just had a couple of questions.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I stepped inside her office. “Can I ask you three personal questions?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t put too much credence in that four-page thing,” she said. “We only use it to see who’s suitable for management positions. It really doesn’t apply to you.”

“It’s not that.”

“Oh. Well. Sure.” She draped her hair over her ears and smiled. “Ask away.”