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“Who?”
She freezes, a deer in the headlights if I’ve ever seen one. I can pick out flecks of indigo hidden amongst the blue of her wide eyes. “… No one.”
“You said, ‘Seth.’”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“You said, ‘I dropped Seth.’”
Her mouth opens to lie again, and then she drops her face into her hands. “Can you pretend you didn’t hear that?”
No, I can’t.Not only will I not forget this, I’m going to think about it often. I’ve been in soul-sucking interviews all day. This has been an amusing bright spot.
“This is an interview, Ms. Barnes,” I remind her. “Answer my questions or leave.”
Her chest is rising and falling rapidly like she might take flight at any second. Through the door if possible; through the window if not.
But if she leaves now, my fun will be over. Fortunately for me, Ms. Barnes isn’t a quitter. She lifts her head and meets my eyes.
“Seth is… someone who meant a lot to me,” she admits, her cheeks flushing in a way that tells me he was more than a friend. You don’t name your vibrator after afriend, after all.
My fingers twitch as I imagine wrapping my hand around the throat of this “Seth” who seems to have made such a deep impression on Ms. Barnes. It’s unlike me to have such a strong reaction to a man I’ve never met. Especially over a woman I barely know.
The vanilla is messing with my head.
“He was my middle school crush,” she continues. “And the first boy who ever kissed me.”
Grudgingly, I decide to let the man live.
“Must have been some kiss.”
“It wasn’t about the kiss. He was a sweet guy. He made me feel special.” She winces, then clears her throat. “Anyway—you wereasking me why there is a gap in my work history. It’s because I quit my previous job when my mother was diagnosed with cancer.”
“When was this?”
“Almost a year ago.” Judging from the catch in her throat, she’s not making it up. “Pancreatic cancer. They claimed they caught it early, but we’re two rounds of chemo deep and things aren’t looking any better.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She lifts her chin even higher. “I’m not playing the sympathy card; I’m just answering your question. Mom needed someone to drive her to chemo every day, and we couldn’t afford full-time help.” Her voice softens. “That’s why there’s a gap in my work history.”
“She is why you need money so badly.”
“I’m not asking for a handout. I’ll work hard for it. I’ll do anything if it means I can give my mother a comfortable life.”
I’ll do anything.And with those three magic words, I sense opportunity. All the possibilities that shrank and withered the day I was forced to slide this cursed wedding band on my finger start to expand and bloom again.
This pretty littlerozamay be the solution that I didn’t know I was searching for.
“I’m not getting this job, am I?” she asks suddenly.
“No, Miss Barnes. You’re not.”
She nods stiffly, like she expected no less, and rises to her feet. There’s a proud defiance in her posture that I find myselfadmiring. “Thank you, Mr. Adamov. I won’t waste any more of your time.”
She steps forward and just when I think she’s about to offer me her hand, she reaches for the vibrator instead.
I snatch it off the desk before she can. “Our interview is not over yet.”
