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“I’m good.”
“Very well, then. Welcome to Manning Advertisement, and we’re happy to have you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Mrs. Kyle crosses her right foot over her left, makes a half a turn, and steps. Glides from the room like she’s on a catwalk at a Paris fashion show. The woman is something else.
I finish the first form when a twenty-five-year-old woman with auburn hair walks in. “How are you doing?” she asks. She’s built like a pole dancer and wearing casual high-waist pencil pants with bow-knot pockets. Shirt is lightweight, double-layered printed chiffon.Am I the only one here not beautiful?
“I’m fine,” I answer.
“Good. I’m Doris Joyce, and I’ll be walking you through everything. Any questions so far?”
“No.”
“All right. Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any. I’ll be right over here.”
“Thank you.”
She takes a seat at the end of the table and thumbs through her phone.
I finish the forms with no help, and then she cranks up the videos. Finish up around one, and my stomach’s grumbling.
“You hungry?” Doris asks.
“Starved.”
“Vending machines in the break room. Food trucks show up out front at eleven and stick around until two. Restaurant down on the corner isn’t too bad, but they’re always packed. I’d have lunch with you, but I have a dental appointment at one-thirty, so . . .”
“I’ll just go to the break room.”
“Okay. Let me show you the way.”
“I already know. Mrs. Kyle brought me here from there.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Go.” Doris makes a move, and I stop her. “What should I do after lunch?”
“You’ll be in the break room?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’m going to have a girl by the name of Kathy swing by, and she’ll take care of you.”
“All right.”
“So you don’t have to wonder. You’ll recognize Kathy by her hair. It’s the color of a ripe tomato.”
I smile. “Got it.”
“See you later, then.”
“Thank you.”
I take a wrong turn to the break room, and somebody has to show me the way. They’re nice about it.
Lunch ends up not being too bad. Microwave cheeseburger, bag of chips, can of Coke to wash things down.
