Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Mrs. Culver?”
“Hi, Mr. Graham. I am so happy you could meet with us on such short notice,” she replied, shaking my hand as she reached me.
“Not a problem.”
She turned, and we walked together to the elevators at the rear of the lobby. “Was traffic bad?”
“Just the usual,” I stated. The traffic had been horrendous, the car was low on gas, and the engine was now making a new weird noise that sounded ominous and expensive. I needed this interview to turn into something big. While I’d been out of work for roughly three weeks, there had been few nibbles on the many résumés I’d sent out. Plus, I was hearing that the interviewing process had grown even longer in recent years, which meant getting hired and receiving that first paycheck could take months.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but the recruiter’s call took me by surprise,” I said as the elevator doors closed in front of us. “I didn’t have the chance to do any research about Stanton Holding to make sure that I’m a good fit for your firm. It would be horrible and unfair to both of us if I wasted your time.”
“Oh, you’re fine. It was unfair of us to spring this on you, but when Danielle saw your résumé, she announced that you’d be a perfect fit. You also come highly recommended.”
Danielle?
Did I know any Danielles? Particularly ones who worked in human resources. No one was coming to mind.
“Stanton is a holding company for three different LGBTQIA+-focused charity organizations to help children, adults, and parents of LGBTQIA+ children safely navigate the world while also providing advocacy for equal rights whether at the city, state, or national government levels.”
“Wow.” I exhaled. “That’s…that’s amazing. And this position that I’m interviewing for? The recruiter couldn’t give me any details. Only that it is management. Which specific charity would it be for?”
“I’m going to leave that for Danielle to fill you in. You’ve been all she’s talked about since her charity fund raiser at the end of June. Your suggestions for the new marketing campaign have lit a fire under our lead designer.”
Her words dissolved into white noise as she said something that called up a key memory.
The charity fund raiser at Sebastian’s parents’ house.
Danielle…as in Danielle Courtland.
Sebastian’s mother.
My brain was still processing this information when the elevator doors whooshed open and I was left staring out at a bright and pretty top floor with another sitting area that reminded me a lot of the top floor for Courtland Enterprises. It wouldn’t have surprised me if the same interior designer had been used for both companies.
All the hope that had bubbled in my veins and danced in my stomach turned to rocks and sank, pulling my organs down to my toes. I didn’t want to move off the elevator. What was the point? This couldn’t be a real interview. This had been Danielle’s way to get me here so she could shout at me over ruining her son’s reputation or using him for money or some other despicable thing.
Heather looked back and smiled at me the moment she noticed I hadn’t moved with her. It was all I could do to paste a matching smile on my lips. She had no idea that this was all a farce. It wasn’t her fault that her boss was pulling some shady shit to make my life hell.
We walked in to encounter Danielle’s assistant, who rose from her desk.
“Good morning, Mr. Graham. I’m Mrs. Courtland’s assistant, Chloe. Mrs. Courtland is ready for you.”
Heather reached out and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do great. We can chat again after your meeting.”
I wanted to tell her that there wouldn’t be a chat and there was no way I was going to be great, but I swallowed the knot in my throat and nodded. I followed Chloe through the lobby to the nearby office with the door standing open.
Unlike Sebastian’s and John’s offices, Danielle’s was sunny and cheerful, with beautiful flowers in cut crystal vases that reflected the light coming from the wall of windows behind her. She rose from behind her desk the second Chloe stepped into the doorway, not even giving her a chance to knock on the door.
“There you are! Byron, you must hate me for calling you so last minute, but I refused to wait a minute longer. Come in! Come in!” She waved at me with both hands as I stood frozen in the doorway.
This was not the enraged Momma Bear I’d been expecting. She appeared genuinely welcoming and happy to see me. What the fuck was going on?
“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Water? Tea?” Chloe inquired as I stepped into the office.
“No.” I stopped and cleared my throat when that single word got caught. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”