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I frown when I see one of the “unknown name” calls left a message.
Great!It must be the fake IRS saying that there’s a warrant out for my arrest and I need to give them money, or that my car’s warranty has suddenly expired… which tend to be the most popular scam calls I get these days.
I touch the play button to listen to the message.
“Hi. This is Courtney Haverty from Daniels and Blumstead. We received your resume and were wondering if you had time available next week to meet for an interview.”
I feel a rush at her words as I listen to her give me her number. Is it excitement or nerves or… what exactly?
Then a grin creeps up my face. This is agoodthing, I remind myself. They didn’t look at the five-year gap on my resume that was filled with a restaurant managerial position and hit the delete button.
Setting my phone down, I nibble on my bottom lip, all the emotions I feel inside me—excitement, anxiety, trepidation—coagulating into something I can’t quite put a name to.
I haven’t worn a business suit in five years.
I haven’t gone through an interview in a lot longer than that.
I work in a diner.
There’s an inch of metaphorical dust collecting on my MBA.
Needing a confidence boost, I reach for my phone again and hit my contacts list.
Then I nearly touch it—Dax’s name and number. Funny, that. At a time when I just need someone to say all the right things to me, he’s the first person I want to call.
I barely ever call or text him.
We told each other this would just be a weekend thing. No,Isaid that, come to think of it. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to prevent me from getting too attached.
But from the way my finger is hovering over his name right now, wanting more than anything to tell him this news, I see my plan is clearly failing.
I puff out my cheeks and then scroll down to my sister-in-law’s name instead.
“U up? I got an interview request!” I text her.
Thank God for family.
