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Me: Sounds great!
I send the text before I can overthink the exclamation point. “Ugh. Why is texting so hard?”
“I know, right?”
I blink and jerk, startled that the elevator doors had opened and I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice. Nor had I realized someone was there waiting for me to get off.
“Uh, sorry. I was lost in thought.” I give the tall woman with the long brown ponytail pulled back tight enough to give me a headache a small smile before I try to politely skirt around her and make my way to the receptionist's desk.
“Viviana Capello.”
My name is a statement and I look up at the impossibly tall woman. And she’s pretty. Like model pretty. But there’s a detached look in her eyes that has me hesitating.
“Yes…?”
She nods once, like she already knew this information but was just waiting on me. “Good. I am Sheila Mathewson.”
“Oh!” I immediately smile at her and reach out a hand that she eyes disdainfully. I’m not immune to this response, many people prefer not to touch others, so I slickly pull my hand away and say, “it’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“Yes,” she says and turns on her heel to walk in the opposite direction. “Follow me.”
I rush behind her, hoping my short five-five legs can keep up with her Amazonian ones. Truly she’s about the same height, perhaps a little taller, than Jane. But when she’s in a rush and I’m a little flustered as to what’s going on, I have to strive to keep up.
She snatches a badge off of the receptionist’s desk, which has an older-looking lady who’s busy managing phones and a few people at her desk.
“Here’s your temporary badge, don’t lose it.”
I quickly lay it over my neck and run a few steps to keep up. I’m grateful I wore my comfiest heels today. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I met Sheila, but it wasn’t sprinting down hallways.
I remind myself that I’m here to make the best impression possible and to just keep up with the woman and do what she says.
We make our way into another part of the building, this one full of large desks that look to be shared but two or three people per clump.
Even with all the people at one large desk, it’s more than spacious.
The room is full of white furniture—not nacho cheese Doritos as a snack friendly—and the brick walls in one room warm it up, along with large prints of art that look like different spots in the mountains.
It’s gorgeous.
The room is spacious, friendly, and full of bustling working folks of all ages. It’s inviting and gives me another boost of excitement.
I want to work here.
It’s completely different than anywhere I’ve ever been, and I love it.
“This is wonderful,” I comment, not expecting Sheila to answer me back, so I’m surprised when she replies, “Yes. It is.”
I catch a glimpse of her smiling and hold back my shock. I wasn’t sure smiling was her thing.
We finally stop at two large tables that are pushed together, several chairs around the edges, and when I get a glimpse of who’s sitting at it, I’m pleasantly surprised to find the people from the mixer.
“Everyone, this is Viviana. Our last to arrive.”
It’s not quite a dig, but I refrain from flinching. I was right on time, which now I know is considered late to Sheila.
She directs me to take a seat, and I pick the closest one and quickly pull out my iPad for note-taking.
“Who’s ready for challenge number one?”
