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“How’s the job hunt going?” I prodded.
She shrugged. “I don’t think my skill set is appreciated here.”
“Oh, really?” I laughed. “Employers aren’t jumping at the opportunity to hire an almost-expert of one specific classical poem that no one has ever heard of? You’re kidding.”
“I know! I’m just so misunderstood.” She let out a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes.
“You could wait tables if you had to. Anyone can do that.”
Her cup clinked against the saucer. “I’d rather not. I’m looking for something exciting. Something more challenging than taking cappuccino orders.”
We had discussed this a few times. At some point, she was going to run out of money. “If you take a part-time job you might hear about another job. You could try it.”
“But this is Galona. I want an adventure. A mindless job to pay the rent is exactly what’s waiting for me back in the States. This is my chance to forget responsibility for a while. To make some real memories.”
Before I could respond, something blocked the blaring sun and our table darkened with shade. I looked up to see a man in a suit standing inches from my chair.
“Hi.” Brooklyn and I smiled. I waited for him to continue his walk, but he pulled his sunglasses to the brim of his nose and pushed them firmly in place again.
He nodded. “Are you two here alone?” he spoke with a clipped French accent.
“Yes.” Brooklyn grinned.
I kicked her under the table.
“I have an invitation for you.”
“What sort of invitation?” I asked.
We were alone on the sidewalk. He spoke cautiously.
“It is an exclusive invitation.”
Brooklyn looked at me. I had no idea what that look meant. Did she understand his secret code?
“Please tell me it’s what I think it is.” She looked up at the well-dressed man.
One corner of his lips turned up. “Mademoiselle, it is a high honor to be invited. However, you and your friend must complete a brief interview.”
“Interview?” I looked between them. What was this?
“Yes. Yes, we’ll do it.”
He retrieved a slip of paper from his jacket and placed it on the table. “The instructions are listed. Good luck.”
He nodded and strolled toward the flower shop. The florist watered a basket of sunflowers out front.
“Brooklyn, what in the hell was that about?”
She flipped the card over. “Holy shit, Molly. We just got two tickets into The Titan.”
“The what?”
“I thought it was real, but I never was sure until now. But, of my God. It’s real. It’s real. And we’re going.”
“You’re going to have to give me some information. Some weird random guy stops by and we’re suddenly going to a club I’ve never heard of?”
She read the details on the card. “Ok. We have just enough time to get ready before we need to be there. It looks like the interview might take a few hours.”
