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The lobby of the building was massive. It had a freaking waterfall, coffee shop, and even a high-end boutique store. I supposed that was in case of a wardrobe emergency for one of the people that worked in the building. I went to the elevator and stepped inside with a group of other young people all dressed to the nines. Now I understood what Trisha had been saying.
When we all stepped off at the same floor, I realized I had just been in the elevator with my competition. They were all carrying folders or briefcases. I was carrying my purse. This was going to be a disaster. But I wasn’t going down without a fight.
I stepped inside the massive reception area, which had a whole damn coffee bar set up for guests with an assortment of fresh fruit and pastries. There were little USB chargers on every chair. It was ridiculous. This was just the reception area.
My eyes sized up the many women and handful of men I suspected were all waiting to interview. I walked up to the woman sitting behind the desk and gave my name. I really hoped we weren’t all scheduled for the same time. I would never make it back before lunch was over.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” the woman instructed.
“Can I step into the hall?” I asked.
She smiled at me. “Sure. It is a little crowded in here, isn’t it?”
I relaxed with her friendly tone. “Just a little.”
“They are running right on time, so keep your ears open for your name.”
“Got it,” I said. “Thank you.”
I didn’t want to sit in the reception area with my competition. I was already feeling intimidated. If I let myself get worked up, I was going to completely bomb the interview. I needed to stay calm. I pulled my phone from my purse and called my mom. She always knew what to say to calm me down.
“Hello,” she answered.
“I’m at a job interview,” I blurted out.
“A job interview? For what? Where? What happened to the college?”
“I still work there,” I answered. “I just don’t want to work there anymore. I can’t work there. It’s sucking the life out of me.”
“I know,” she said, and I could hear the relief in her voice. “I’m glad you’re doing something about it. What job are you interviewing for?”
“Mom, I’m so far out of my league,” I whispered. “Trisha put me on it. It’s one of her clients. It’s some really fancy watch company. I thought it would just be a normal place, but this is like Rolex or something. It’s super fancy. All the other candidates look amazing. I’m so nervous. I got myself really excited to get another job, and now that I’m staring at the competition, my confidence is fading.”
“Take a deep breath,” she said. “You are just as amazing. What is the job for?”
“An executive assistant to some big shot in the company.”
“Then you are perfect for the job!” I could hear the smile in her voice and imagined her right there beside me cheering me on. “Youarean executive assistant. You can do this.”
“I’m a glorified senior care aide,” I muttered. “I fetch coffee all day and chase around a doddering old man who should seriously consider retirement.”
“Which only qualifies you more,” she said, laughing. “If you can do that job, you can do just about anything. You can do this.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. I felt a little better. I needed the pep talk.
“Okay, have you done some practice interview questions?” she asked.
I saw a man step through the doors that led beyond the reception area. “Hold on, Mom,” I said and stepped inside the reception area. Just as I was opening the door, one of the men got up and followed him back. “Never mind. It wasn’t for me.” I went back into the hall. “I did some practice questions with Trisha last night. I’m not sure what they might ask, but I think I’m ready.”
“Okay, let’s try this one,” she said calmly. “Why do you think you’re the best qualified for this position?”
I tried not to laugh at the silliness of it. I cleared my throat and remembered my rehearsed, rather prepared answer. “I’m the best qualified because I not only have experience, but I have excellent ambition and a little bit of intuition.”
She started laughing. “That’s perfect.”
“You think?” I said nervously. “It isn’t too cheesy?”
“Not at all,” she said. “I like it. An assistant is what people in my day called a secretary. You have to be prepared to handle just about anything that comes your way. You’re going to be assisting just one person this time, I would imagine. You have to be intuitive and know what that person needs. I like your answer.”
