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1
The violent popof pink against the harsh lime green walls made me immediately regret this decision. My left eye twitched, silently begging me to blink in rapid succession until the vibrancy of the room stopped.I wonder what black charcoal lines would look like on these walls.
My fingers itched to grab hold of a piece of black coal and draw fat lines along each plane, dividing up the vivacity of the room. Sure, most people wouldn’t use charcoal on walls, but I’d grown up drawing on every surface imaginable. Call it a nervous tic. I liked the challenge of the less-than-perfect surface to cast my art on, having to hold my piece perfectly to get the lines right.
“Thanks for your patience.” A woman in khaki shorts and a much softer, appealing pink shirt smiled at me, interrupting my thoughts of art. I forced a tight smile because yeah, my interview was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago.
When I had arrived, I’d been told to stand near her office door and wait. It was next to the changing room in what looked like a small luxury gift shop. So, I’d awkwardly loitered while clinging to my resume.
“No problem.” I gripped the piece of paper in my lap, unsure if I was supposed to hand it over to her or just forget it. No one ever really addressed whether bringing one was a good idea anymore. I knew if you happened to get an old-school boss and didn’t have it, you’d be at a disadvantage. If not, you just looked like an idiot.
“So, this all looks great. I think you’d be a good fit with your customer service background.” She smiled, her white teeth beaming against her tan skin, vibrant just like her office.
“Yes ma’am.” I hid a wince as my accent made an appearance.
I’d lived on the west coast for the past thirteen years, so thankfully most of my drawl had started to wane…but every now and then it would peek through. What I didn’t want this woman to do was dig into why I had a slight accent or double-check my references.
If she dug around in my past, she would find out I had obtained those customer service skills by working as a clerk at the local supermarket in my hometown of Pharr, Texas. That and Motel Six—definitely not the prestigious marketing firm and the telecommunications company listed on my resume.
“You’ll mostly just be helping us gauge some of the new health code requirements—it’s been a bit of an upset for some of our members, and of course our guests.” She continued clicking her mouse, moving it around while looking over my resume on the computer screen.
On instinct, I gripped the useless sheet of paper in my lap. While waiting for my interview to start, I’d overheard an irate customer yelling about some new policy that was being enforced. The poor girl on the other side of the counter had looked like she had no idea how to handle angry customers.
“I specialized in customer retention for years, so this will be a walk in the park for me.”
Lie.
But Ihadonce talked Stacey Gorman out of cutting Julianne Jones from navel to nose with her daddy’s hunting knife. Apparently, Julianne had been getting friendly with Stacey’s boyfriend at the Stutzmans’ bonfire.
“Great. Well, I hope the age differences won’t be too frustrating to deal with. If my assumption about you is correct, you’ll fit right in.” She stood, smiling.
Age difference?
What in the heck was she talking about? I didn’t have time to ponder it too long before she stuck her hand out, ending our interview by promising to be in touch.
I exited the prestigious sports building, feeling like I’d just stuffed my face into a warmed oven. I blinked against the hot sun and headed toward the parking lot, where my minivan was parked.
Shoving my sunglasses on, I walked past a family headed toward the rows of shiny bike rentals. I was so far removed from labels and prestigious brands I didn’t know what on earth they were wearing, but I knew their clothes hadn’t come from the TJ Maxx clearance rack.
I’d have to push past my discomfort with rich people if I was going to work here. It was literally designed to cater to the privileged and their guests.
Rounding my dark-maroon minivan that had a few dents along the bumper and a crooked license plate, I dug for my keys. Two brand new Range Rovers sandwiched my car, making my gut sink. I wondered if there was an employee parking lot where I could avoid the vehicular superiority I’d encounter here. There had to be regular Joes who worked here, right? People with cars more than five years old…dents, dirt…I scanned the parking lot. That was a big nope based on my quick survey of the space.
I stifled a sigh as I started my van. A godawful squeal emanated from under the hood, which meant it was going to be a good day.
Around me, families in khaki and white cotton appraised me through designer shades. I didn’t care what they thought. I’d stopped caring a long time ago. I took out the map I’d snagged from the sports center and spread it across my steering wheel while I waited for my car to warm up. Once the squealing stopped, it was usually my green light to go. It hadn’t stopped yet. I used my finger to trail down the different partitions of land on the resort.
Hawk Tail Resort had originally been built fifty years earlier, which was when they divided the estate into thirds. One third was reserved for owners who either lived in or rented out their homes, and a sports center with a splash pad was set up for that side of the butte. The second was for the massive sixteen-story hotel that stood like an ugly sentinel greeting all the guests who drove into Hawk Tail Resort, with the spa and restaurants centered closest to the hotel. The third was reserved for private villas bordering the eastern side of the river and the sports center that I was applying for. It was reserved for more recreational use, with an outdoor pool, bike rentals, and basketball and tennis courts.
Locals came out to play the golf course or frequent the five-star restaurant, but few actually stayed here…unless, of course, they were owners. The fees alone to use all the amenities on the resort were more than I spent on groceries and gas in a month.
No thank you.
My engine finally went silent, just lightly thrumming under the hood, which meant it was time to go. Folding the map, I put my car in reverse.
* * *
I was almost home,mentally patting myself on the back for not stopping anywhere for an easy dinner I couldn’t afford, when I happened upon a bit of a scene.
