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Sean tenses at the hope in his wife’s voice. “Great.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. Tell me all about it.”
“What can I say? It went well. Really well. I think I have a good shot at this.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
“Well, it’s early days,” Sean qualifies, deciding he may have gone too far. “I still have to meet with the head of marketing, and probably the president of the company, and who knows who else. You know how it goes. This could take a while.”
“So, when does all this take place?”
“Not sure. Probably next week.”
“This is such good news. Are you excited?”
“I am. Just trying not to get too ahead of myself. They still have a few more people to see.”
“Oh.”
Sean hears a current of doubt resonating through that tiny word and hates it. “But Carrie Pierce, the woman I spoke to in Human Resources, was extremely positive. She was very encouraging.”
“That’s wonderful,” Olivia says again, although with less enthusiasm than she expressed the first time. “Oh, there goes my other line. I should go.”
“Of course. Duty calls.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.” He returns the phone to his pocket and stands very still, taking several measured breaths before pushing open the heavy glass door of the designer shop.
A salesman approaches almost immediately. “Can I help you, sir?”
Sean smiles. “I’d like to see the linen jacket in the window.”
—
Sean is sitting at a table by the large open window of the front section of Ta-boo, one of Palm Beach’s oldest and best known restaurants. The bag containing his new jacket sits at his feet. He is finishing up his lobster salad, savoring his second glass of Pinot Grigio, and contemplating a third. Outside, a parade of smartly dressed women with unnaturally tight faces saunters by. Snatches of conversation from the next table drift lazily toward his ears.
(“Did you hear? Marsha needs to have her implants replaced. Apparently, there’s some kind of problem with the manufacturer.”
“Her boobs have been recalled?”)
He laughs. Booze and boobs. What else matters?
The waitress appears. “All done here?” she asks, and he nods. “Would you like to see a dessert menu?”
Sean checks his watch. It’s almost two o’clock and he has to pick the kids up in forty minutes. Luckily, tourist season is over and there shouldn’t be too much traffic at this hour, but still, it will be tight. He really should get going. “Just the check, thank you.”
A minute later, the check is on the table. He glances toward it, swallowing his shock at the figure he sees. Sixty dollars for two glasses of house wine! Over a hundred dollars in total and he didn’t even have dessert! And that’s not counting a tip.Shit.Olivia will have a fit.Nah,he thinks, glancing toward the floor. The fit will happen when she sees what he paid for the jacket!
Unless he gets the job. Then he’ll need a new jacket. Maybe more than one.
It’s not entirely out of the question, he decides. The interview might not have gone as badly as he thought. He’s probably being too hard on himself.
He hands his credit card to the waitress as once again his phone vibrates in his pocket. Caller ID reveals it’s the job recruiter he’s been working with. “Hey, there, Fiona,” he says, adopting Nick Wilson’s breezy tone. “How’s it going?” Perhaps Fiona has another interview for him. “I think the meeting went well,” he continues unprompted. “Of course, they’re still interviewing—”
“That’s actually why I’m calling,” she interrupts. “I was just speaking to Ms. Pierce.”
“And?”
