Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
She nods.
“How did you do there? Were your customers happy?”
“If they hadn’t been, I would’ve been fired.”
“There you go, then. You look great this morning. Just keep your air of professionalism, and you’re going to be fine.”
She bites her bottom lip, and then she nods. “Okay.”
I open my mouth to give her a smartass comment, but I restrain myself. When she has these tiny sparks of niceness, I shouldn’t do anything to make them stop.
We walk a block, not talking, until The Glass House appears. The building is red brick and unassuming. I open the door for her, and she walks ahead of me.
She gawks. Here’s where unassuming ends. The host’s station is dark wood with ornate carvings, and beyond, the dining room is lavish with secluded booths lining the walls and round tables throughout.
“I…”
“Ask for the manager in charge of hiring,” I tell her, giving her a subtle push “Relax. You’re going to do great.”
“You mean… You’re not coming with me?”
“I’m not looking for a job. How do you think it would look if you brought someone with you to apply for a job?”
“Fine,” she harrumphs. “If you don’t want to help me, you don’t have to.”
“Oh my God.” I inhale deeply, practicing patience. “You know I can’t go with you. I’m going to stand right here by the door, and I will wait. They will either say yes, a manager will see you, or no, there aren’t any jobs available. Whatever happens, whether you talk to someone or not, I will be here when you’re done. If you don’t end up with a job, we’ll go to the next place.”
“I’m not a moron, Leif. I know how this works.”
“Then you know it won’t look good if I go with you.”
She nods then. Draws in a breath. Advances toward the door.
16
KELLY
My nerves are jumping under my skin, but I draw in another breath slowly and exhale. Then I try—I really try—to smile.
“May I help you?” A thin gentleman behind the podium asks.
“Yes, thank you. Is a manager available?”
“Linda is here. May I ask what this is regarding?”
“Yes, of course. I understand that the restaurant is looking for servers. I’d like to speak to Linda about the possibility of employment.”
“Yes, we are. She’s talking to someone else at the moment, but I’ll let her know you’re waiting if you’d like to have a seat.” He gestures to the bench, where Leif is already sitting.
I smile again—or try to. “Thank you very much. I’m happy to wait.”
“Could I get your name?”
“Yes, of course. It’s Kelly. Kelly Taylor.”
The young man makes a note on a Post-it, and then he leaves the podium. I head to the bench and sit down next to Leif.
“So?” he says.
“The manager’s talking to someone else right now. She’ll get to me in a minute.” I frown.
“Great.”
“What’s great about it? Someone beat me here. The person who’s here is going to get the job, and I won’t.”
“Oh my God.” Leif rubs his forehead. “You are going to be the death of me, Kelly.”
“No one’s forcing you to be here.”
He doesn’t reply. Just shakes his head, sighing.
I sit, clasp my hands in my lap, trying to ease the shivers. Already I have goosebumps on my forearms. This place is as fancy as Versailles. Not that I’ve ever been to France, but I’ve seen photos. I got a look at a crystal chandelier when I was talking to the host.
I check my watch every couple of seconds. Check my emails on my phone. Even attempt to play Candy Crush.
Nothing soothes my nerves.
After what seems like hours, an attractive woman with blond hair walks toward me. “Are you Kelly?”
I rise. “Yes, I am.”
“I’m Linda Parker.” She holds out her hand. “It’s great to meet you. Come with me, and we’ll talk about the server position.”
I attempt to smile once more. I want to look to Leif for reassurance, but I force myself not to. I go with Linda, and she leads me to a table in the dining room near the back.
“Please, have a seat.”
I take a seat.
“Would you like some coffee? Water?”
“Thank you. A glass of water would be nice.”
“Of course.” She signals to a busboy setting tables.
He comes right over.
“Could we get a couple waters please?”
“Sure thing, Linda.” He waves and walks away.
“So, Kelly,” Linda says. “Tell me what kind of experience you have serving.”
“I’m originally from Phoenix, and I was a waitress at the Junction Diner for five years.”
“Any experience in a fine restaurant?” Linda glances at her tablet.
“No, but I’m certain I can do the job. I’m great on my feet, and my customers were always satisfied.”
“What made you leave Phoenix?” Linda asks.
Oh, God. I should’ve thought about what to say. And now I have no clue. Should I tell the truth?
“It…wasn’t by my choice.” I look down.