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Her ankles wobbled as she attempted to run in her heels, dodging cars trying to merge into cross traffic. Horns blared at her. She waved an apology and continued down the next block, past an apothecary, a bakery, and a corner bookshop.
The tan columns of the library rose from atop the stone steps in front of her. She stared up at the building with the words SHADOW HARBOR PUBLIC LIBRARY carved into the stone. With the back of her hand, she swiped at a wayward lock of hair before hurrying up the steps. She skidded through the door onto the penny-tile floor as the clock tower chimed nine.
Paige gulped in a deep breath, trying to stop her chest from heaving as she stepped to the circulation desk. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin.
“Paige Turner to see Veronica Lauren. I have an interview.”
The blonde behind the desk arched an eyebrow at her as she picked up a phone and pressed a button. She replaced the receiver after a moment and forced a smile onto her face. “You can head upstairs. She’s with another candidate and will call you in as soon as she’s finished.”
“Thank you,” Paige said with a curt nod.
She spun on her heel and crossed to the large, curved staircase leading up. She wrapped her fingers around the cool bronze railing as she climbed. The aroma of aging books filled her nostrils as she swept her eyes over the lower level.
Rich, dark, carved wood bookcases filled the space as far as her eye could see. Polished wooden tables sat near large windows on the west wall. Study carrels filled the rear of the room.
It would be a dream to work here. She only had to land the job.
Paige flicked her gaze up. An open door loomed in the center of the wall at the back of the gallery. A wooden bench sat next to it.
Paige tiptoed to the bench and eased onto it. As she settled onto the wooden slats, her back pressed against the tan wall, the wood cracked underneath her. She winced, glad the bench stayed upright despite its protest under her minimal weight.
She slipped her tote from her shoulder and placed it on her lap before she rearranged it in front of her, trying to hide the large run in her pantyhose. Voices floated from the room next to her as she dug into her bag for her resumes.
“…Rhodes Scholarship program provided me with an opportunity I wouldn’t have otherwise had.”
Another voice, unintelligible to Paige, answered.
A Rhodes scholar? Paige ruminated. Great. She wouldn’t stand a chance. She adjusted her glasses as she stared down at her pitiful curriculum vitae. A good GPA for her master’s degree in Library Sciences topped it. But it came from a small, local college. Not Oxford. It was also several years old. She’d graduated from her program years ago and failed to land a job in her field.
She swallowed hard as she smoothed a crease from the corner of the page.
“Of course, I fluently speak Latin and Ancient Greek, along with three other modern languages.”
“Fluent in Latin?” Paige whispered. “Is she serious?”
She flicked her glasses upward again as the other voice spoke in a tone too quiet for her to make out. With pursed lips, she drummed her fingers against her thigh.
The louder voice spoke again, growing louder as the sentence continued. “…served eighteen months with the Peace Corps which allowed me to learn about several unique and otherwise unknown cultures in the South American jungle.”
Paige rolled her eyes, gagging over the latest comment to float through the door. “I bet she saves endangered animals by nursing them by hand while hanging from a banana tree in the rainforest,” she whispered.
The voice grew louder. “Of course, if there’s anything else I can add to help with your decision, please reach out. I listed my email, cell phone, Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok accounts on my CV and business card.”
Paige’s heart thudded. Panicked thoughts raced through her brain, ranging from her less-than-impressive qualifications to the run in her stockings to her lack of a TikTok account.
She fidgeted on the wooden bench, earning another protest from the furniture piece.
Two women appeared at the door: one a tall goddess of a woman with a crown of sleek, straight blonde hair in a shoulder-length bob framing her sculpted countenance. Her perfect makeup accentuated her best features and made any bad ones nonexistent. Her tailored navy skirt suit covered a crisp, white satin blouse. The polished leather of her briefcase gleamed in the overhead lights.
The second woman, a foot shorter than the first, pulled a pair of glasses from her round face, allowing them to fall on a gold chain against her black blazer. Dark hair pulled into a French twist framed her medium-toned skin and light-blue eyes. She offered a pleasant smile to her candidate.
Paige bounced from her seat, clutching the tote bag in front of her, and thrust her hand out. Her resume fluttered to the floor, hitting the hardwood with a slap that resounded through the library. “Paige Turner. Your 9:00 a.m.”
The blonde flicked her gaze to Paige, her eyes roaming up and down her disheveled form. With a soft scoff, she returned her attention to Veronica.
“I cannot wait to hear from you regarding this wonderful opportunity.” She thrust her hand out and pumped Veronica’s up and down with expert precision.
With the grace of a cat, she spun on a spiked heel, offered a final disdainful glance to Paige, sashayed to the stairs, and wandered down them gracefully, her hand lightly grazing the brass handrail.
