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3
THE NEXT MORNING
Kassidy
I’m nervous as hell about this interview. I give myself a quick glance in the mirror to see the image of a professional business woman in a two-piece conservative skirt and matching jacket looking back at me. I take big breaths knowing I need to get a move on if I want to make my appointment on time. I grab my handbag and keys and head out the door. Looking at my hooptie of a car I moan in disgust.
“It’s a steal,” the salesman told me six months ago when I purchased it. It’s a 2014 Honda Civic. I used my life savings of ten thousand dollars to pay for it, plus I took out a loan to pay the rest of the twenty thousand dollars that I owed. It was spotless, and it was my favorite color; a teal blue. It even came with upgraded leather seats and a sound system. It was a one owner car, and the old lady who had it before me really took remarkable care of it. The interior still smells new to this day. The salesman even showed me all the maintenance records and the car only had 40,000 miles on it.
Yeah, it’s a real steal. Not! I got ripped off because now it’s sounding like an old clunker. I purchased as is and now there’s no way I can take it back.
I look over at my rundown, not-so-modern apartment building and swear to move in a more swanky place if I get the new job. The faded moss green paint on the walls has definitely seen better days. At least the neighbors are friendly. I wave at old Mrs. Lee when I see her peeping out her window. She waves back before letting her faded flower curtains fall back into place.
“Thank you, Jesus!” I say aloud when the engine finally fires up. I ease out my parking spot and reverse out into the busy highway.
As I left my neighborhood, I navigate onto the interstate. This way will shorten my distance to N&D. I drive along in the busy highway praying my car doesn’t let me down along the way. The further I get into the city, the buildings become more frequent and the crowd of people more dense.
I already know I need to turn right at the next stoplight. I hate navigating around the city, I think to myself. I start to weave my way down the street that will take me to the N&D building.
It’s a forty-five minute commute from my neighborhood into the city of Seattle. I will never get use to the magnificence of this building. ‘N&D Inc’ is extravagant, even on the outside. It’s tall and the building towers above all the others. It’s huge columns of concrete and covered in glass. There’s a sharp contrast to the city where N&D rests.
A silvery gray Mercedes S600 shoots past me to secure the parking spot I am about to enter. My middle finger is about to shoot up when I think better of it. I don’t want to jeopardize my interview in case I run into the person again. The unsmiling woman slides out of her car, barely giving me a. sneering glance.
I circle the parking deck once more. The parking decks are full of 2019 model cars. My mouth twists into a pout as I park my car between a BMW and a Lexus SUV. I switch off the ignition and hear another loud clunking sound. Damn, this car is a lemon for sure. I wonder how many people got a bad deal beside me, or am I the only fool that judged a used car by its appearance? I should have taken Anita’s advice and test drove it to a reliable mechanic.
Getting out of my car, the morning air kisses against my cheeks. Seattle's busy traffic of blaring horns and fast paced business men and women causes my heart to pump. My heels click across the parking lot leading to the white marble of the large lobby. I move with a rhythm that keeps pace with my fast-paced heartbeat. The inside of my hands become sweaty. I dare not rub them on my skirt to leave a telling imprint of my nervousness on my clothes.
A security guard is the first person I encounter. I notice a man dressed in all black at the front of the main entrance near the elevator that the email said I was destined to get on. His name-tag reads ‘Branson’.
The size of his bulky body makes me gulp and I notice a gun is strapped to his side. Anyone with any common sense, which nowadays is almost nobody, wouldn’t dare to try anything with this man on guard.
“Name and I.D please.” his black eyes clashes with my brown ones. Branson’s skin is darkly tanned. I become disarmed when his stern face suddenly flashes a white smile.
“Erm, my name is Kassidy Davis and I’m here for an interview for the assistant’s position for Mister Pierce and Mister Hawkings,” I reply sliding my ID across the security counter. My nervousness only increases after the guard gives me a visitors pass and I stroll to the elevator. I breathe deeply to try and calm my nerves. I want this job in a bad way. I need it to better my circumstances in life. I know deep down I have to try even if I fail. At least I won’t have to see that asshole Stanley’s face day in and day out. Good riddance to him!
I don't know how or why I stupidly fell in love with a buffoon like him. I will not give in and say it's my fault he did what he did. The things he did is on him and him alone. I much rather being by myself, without a man, than to be tied to a man who didn't respect and love me unconditionally.
I need to focus and get on my game face for the assistant’s job I'm interviewing for. I cannot mess this up.
Continuing my inner pep talk, my breath catches in my throat when I step onto the elevator. I send up a quick prayer that I will get the job. The elevator made a ping and the doors began to open . I step out at the smoky-glass entrance that houses N&D executive Incorporated offices. I notice right away the company’s name is emblazoned in golden metallic writing across the double doors. I'm feeling overwhelmed as I stare at the array of professionally dressed young women sitting around the waiting area. I suddenly feel like I really need to go shopping. Maybe Anita and my other friends can get together for a shopping expedition at our local thrift store soon.
I take in another deep breath. I check in with the receptionist, a nicely dressed white woman with a friendly smile plastered to her face.
My skin flushes against my dark tone as I make my way to the receptionist desk. “Hi my name is Kassidy Davis, and I'm here for the interview.
“Hi Kassidy, welcome to N&D. Let me check to see who I need to direct you to,” the receptionist taps her keys over the keyboard before she speaks again. “Oh yes, you're supposed to see Nola, the administrative assistant to Nikolai and Dirk. Go down the hall to your right, and her office is the first one on the left,” she directs me. “Good luck,” the receptionist adds.
