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“Boo.”
“We could marry rich,” she offered. “In fact, there’s a guy that’s been hitting on me. He might just be my sugar daddy.”
“Go for it,” I said, laughing. “Make sure he has a guest house I can crash in.”
“Of course.”
“And maybe a brother,” I teased.
“That would be pretty cool,” she said with a laugh. “We could spend holidays and vacations together.”
I brought along the current smut book I was reading. Before I dove into the fantasy world of vampire lovers, I pulled my phone from my beach bag to check my email. I had been trying not to put too much pressure on myself about the job. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the necessary self-control not to check my email every so often. It was a Sunday, and the likelihood of getting any kind of email from them was next to nothing, but I checked anyway.
I saw an email withsecond interview requestin the subject line. I sat straight up. “No freaking way!”
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I got an email!” I quickly opened it and read the brief message requesting another interview with me tomorrow morning at eight.
“Congratulations, I guess, but I get emails every day.”
“No, they want me to come in for another interview!”
She sat up and grabbed my shoulder. “No freaking way!”
I was so excited I could barely talk. I quickly wrote out a reply and sent it off. “Shit. Work. I can’t afford to lose my job. I know I said I didn’t care, but I have to have a job. I can’t tell Harold I have an interview. He would fire me just to be a dick.”
“So, call in sick,” she suggested. “Tell him you don’t feel well.”
I gnawed on my lip. “Can I? I’ve never called in sick a day in my life.”
“Which is why you can.”
“A second interview,” I squealed. “I can’t believe I made the first round of cuts. This is crazy!”
“I just know you are going to get it. You are so qualified. And you present yourself like a boss. You don’t take shit. You’re mature and capable. You’re not flighty. I don’t know who needs the assistant, but he or she is going to be very lucky to have you.”
“Thank you,” I breathed. “I hope so. I really want this.”
“You’ll get it,” she said confidently. “I know you will.”
I wrote a brief email and sent it directly to Harold’s inbox. I knew he usually checked his email on Sunday nights. That was when he always sent his demands for the coming week.
“I have to come up with another outfit,” I said. “I can’t wear the same dress.”
“Go with a power suit,” she said. “Black slacks, pumps, and a flattering top without too much cleavage.”
“What about that white silk blouse I have?”
“Perfect,” she said without taking off her sunglasses. “You’re going to knock them dead. What you’re wearing isn’t nearly as important for the second interview. You showed them who you were. That’s why they’re having you back.”
The next morning, I dressed in the recommended pantsuit. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and made sure I looked like a boss. When I walked into the reception area, the woman behind the desk smiled. “Hello, Ms. Stiles,” she greeted. “They’ll be with you shortly.”
I was impressed and flattered she remembered me. “Thank you.”
I sat down and waited just a minute or two before one of the people from the panel interview called me back.
This time, I was escorted into an office with a plaque announcing I was going into the head of HR. I was nervous, but not nearly as much as I had been at the first interview.
