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“Unfortunately, no. I, myself, work out every day, but not professionally. I can assist in any other way you need, however.”
Kristen’s forehead creased. “Such as?”
“Welcoming the clients. Showing prospective ones around. Handling desk duty.”
A pause. “Do you have a resume?”
This was the part where it went straight downhill.
As she’d done all day, Lisa pulled out her paperwork. She knew what it said by memory. A spotty education that didn’t look good, no matter how much she’d doctored it. Ditto for the odd jobs, although she’d claimed to have been a hostess in the five pricy restaurants she’d worked in, rather than a waitress in three of them and a coat check girl at the others. And then there were those stellar jobs at the supermarkets—jobs she’d upgraded to stock manager rather than the cashier that she’d been.
Upgraded or not, none of the jobs was impressive and none of them had lasted more than six months, at best. So she’d inserted the early childhood stuff—about spending eighteen years in the foster care system, working as a nanny—a stretch from the truth, which was that she’d done lots of babysitting—to become financially independent as soon as she turned eighteen.
So much for the doctoring.
Kristen handed her back the pages with that same incredulous look on her face that Lisa had seen all day.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You have no pertinent work experience, and I don’t think you’re the right fit for our clientele.”
“Please,” Lisa replied. “I need a job desperately. I’ll do anything you need—mop floors, clean bathrooms—anything.”
Kristen was in the process of shaking her head.
That’s when the miracle had happened.
“Kristen,” a female voice behind Lisa said. “You know, we can use a ladies’ lounge assistant. That place is always crowded, and the clients have been complaining that no one’s been providing e
nough towels, toiletries, snacks, bottles of water—you name it. Maybe this young woman could fill that role.”
Lisa turned, and her eyes widened for a second. No wonder Kristen had mistaken her for someone else. This woman could be her sister.
Recognizing the same thing, the woman—her attire identifying her as a personal trainer—grinned. “Now there’s even more reason to give you a job. Our clientele would love the resemblance. They’d be talking about it for weeks.” Seeing her boss wavering, the trainer said, “Why don’t you let me interview her and see if she’d fit in. She certainly has the right look,” she added in a teasing tone.
Kristen wasn’t about to argue with that. “Fine,” she agreed, going off to assist one of her clients, who was having trouble learning how to use the new Tread Climber.
“What’s your name?” Lisa had blurted out.
“Julie Forman. What’s yours?”
“Lisa Barnes.”
And that had been the start of a very long and, ultimately, hit-it-big day.
Julie had conducted the interview over lunch at a nearby diner, watching Lisa as she hungrily downed a burger, an order of fries, another of onion rings, and an enormous hunk of cheesecake. Julie, of course, ate grilled salmon—dry—and a small green salad with balsamic dressing. For dessert, she treated herself to a sorbet.
Lisa knew she must look like some kind of wild animal, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She hadn’t had a decent meal in three days.
Julie didn’t comment on Lisa’s behavior. She did skim her paperwork, however, an expression of compassion flickering across her face as she read the life Lisa had led.
“You were in foster care all your life?” she asked.
“Till I was eighteen, yes.” Lisa showed no emotion. “My mother dumped me on the steps of some church. Typical story, would be my guess. A teenager who was scared to death and didn’t know what to do with a baby she didn’t want or know how to care for. At least she didn’t throw me in the garbage, right?”
Julie hadn’t smiled. “You haven’t had any breaks in life. Were any of these foster homes happy experiences?”
Lisa shrugged. “They were okay. Some better, some worse. But it wasn’t all their fault. I was a handful.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Julie said, sounding amused. “It says here that you’re twenty-nine. Is that true?”
