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Sex Coach by Parker, M. S. (84)

Five

Aleena

I wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with interviews, but when it came to this sort of thing, I was clueless .

The good news was that my wardrobe was basic. I don’t mean minimalist, I mean non-existent. When you don’t have that much to choose from, it made getting ready that much easier. My casual wear consisted of a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts. My work selection was a little more expansive, with three pairs of dress pants and white button blouses as well as a couple of dresses .

The dresses weren’t appropriate for a job interview, or much of anything outside of holidays or the occasional wedding. Despite the cold, I went with the pants and short-sleeved shirt. Hopefully, the office building would be warm enough that I wasn’t shivering through the entire interview .

Thanks to the two years of college courses I’d taken, I knew I needed a résumé. I’d hit the internet, studying résumés and doing the best I could to make my pitiful work experience sound more impressive than it was .

Résumé and references in hand, I showed up and immediately felt lost .

Standing there in the lobby of a massive skyscraper, I realized I had no idea what company I was supposed to be looking for. With my résumé tucked inside a manila folder, I studied the company directory—it wasn’t the kind I was used to seeing—it was digital and all flowery and pretty .

But it didn’t help at all .

So I listened .

People talked .

All around me, conversation buzzed. Apparently, there was a lot of hiring going on today. I realized quickly that a single company owned the entire building .

Ooookay…

I started to work my way through the crowd, picking up scraps of conversation. Roughly one hundred positions available, everything from hospitality to housekeeping to secretarial .

At eight o’clock exactly, a man came into the lobby and the conversations ceased. I didn’t know who he was, but he had the look of someone who expected people to do exactly what he said. Looking to be in his early forties, he had salt-and-pepper hair and dark blue eyes .

“My name is Robert Findlay and I’m the business manager for the Winter Corporation. I report directly to the CEO .”

There was a faint murmur in the crowd and he smiled. “The CEO of the Winter Corporation takes a very hands-on approach, as some of you have probably heard.” He paused a moment and smoothed down his tie. He had a matter-of-fact way about him and he spoke in such a manner that made you think he was talking personally, right to you. “There will be five interviews going on at the same time. The people you will be speaking with have a list of our available positions and will be determining which of you will be a good fit. If necessary, I may be called in to ask a few questions of my own. All decisions regarding hiring or second interviews for some of the more difficult positions will be made after all applicants have been seen. Calls will be made tomorrow morning .”

I found myself nodding even though I barely registered anything he was saying .

My hands were sweaty on the folder I held in my hands and I struggled not to look around me. This was insane. Was there some sort of spot I should have put my name if I wanted to try to get in on the hospitality list? I hadn’t seen any sort of sign-ups, but

“Aleena Davison ?”

Jerking my head, I found that Robson Findlay was looking around .

“What?”

He heard me and turned his head, smiling at me. “Aleena ?”

Several eyes turned my way and, nervously, I smoothed a hand down my trousers than started toward him .

He nodded toward a door to the left. There was a woman standing there and she gestured me through. A few others followed and, without saying a word to anybody, I slid through .

About thirty minutes passed before I was called in to meet with a tall, thin man who gave me a friendly smile as I stood. I followed him back to an office cluttered with all sorts of television and movie memorabilia .

“My name’s Frank,” he said as he sat behind a desk. “I’m part of the HR department here at the Winter Corporation .”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. I ran my hand over my lap as if I was smoothing down a skirt .

He held out his hand and I gave him my résumé. He took a moment to read it before looking back up at me. “From Iowa to the Big Apple? That’s quite a move .”

I nodded. “It’s been a bit of an adjustment .”

“I’ll bet it has,” he agreed. “Did you come with your family or a friend ?”

“By myself,” I said. I wondered if this was his way of trying to put me at ease, making small talk .

“And you didn’t know anyone here ?”

I shook my head .

“That’s quite a brave step to make,” Frank said. “Are you looking to be an actress, or musician ?”

“Neither,” I said. “Honestly, I don’t know what I want to do with my life and New York seemed like a great place to find myself .”

“I see here that, until recently, you worked in the food service industry.” He moved away from my personal life onto professional. He tapped his finger on my résumé and glanced at me, brow lifted .

“Yes, sir,” I said. I folded my hands on my lap, fighting the urge to fidget .

“And the reason for leaving ?”

And that will be all, ma’am… I could hear the bell tolling now. “My employment was terminated,” I said simply. I wasn’t going to give excuses or blame anyone else. If he asked, I’d be honest, but I wasn’t going to sit here and whine, either .

“Hmmm.” Eyes narrowed, he leaned back in his seat and studied me. “Might I ask why ?”

“I dropped some dishes,” I said. I was tempted to add that I’d tripped, but I refrained .

“And you were fired for that?” He looked down at my résumé again. “If I called the restaurant, would they tell me the same story ?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly again. “But if you request my time sheets, you’ll see that I was never late or left early. As far as I know, I never had a customer file a complaint .”

Frank looked at me, his eyes narrowing as they searched my face. I knew that look well enough to know that he was trying to determine if I was telling the truth. I didn’t say a word or look away. I didn’t have anything to hide .

When he returned his attention to my résumé, he moved on. “You have a degree in office management. Why didn’t you try to get an office job ?”

“I did,” I answered. “But most of the businesses here want someone with at least a bachelor’s degree or experience .”

“But you have some experience,” he pointed out .

“I worked for my dad,” I said, smiling a little. “I was named one of the assistant managers in the restaurant my dad owns—I earned it, but I was only eighteen. It’s probably not what people are looking for when they ask for experience .”

He made a noise that could have meant anything. “Why didn’t you choose to continue past your associate’s degree ?”

“Because I don’t know if office management is what I want to do,” I said. “I love the organizational part of it, the managing of schedules and making sure things run smoothly, but beyond that? I don’t know if it’s what I want .”

“What do you want to do?” he asked, pushing at me .

“Honestly?” I looked away. “I don’t know yet .”

“You’re a very straight-forward person, Ms. Davison.” Frank leaned back in his chair .

“I’ve heard that once or twice .”

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” he asked .

“Of course.” He slipped outside, leaving me alone in his office. The TV memorabilia in there would have put some of the geek types into throes of geektastic orgasms .

I’d heard of some of the shows, but others, not so much. There were figurines and a lot of them were aliens, scattered among the odd spaceship. On one wall were pictures of groups of people, Frank included, dressed up and smiling. They were all done up in the sort of costumes I’d only seen online. One of the pictures even looked like it could’ve been from a costumed wedding .

The door opened again and I turned, ready to offer a polite compliment about his décor. Instead of Frank, however, a woman walked in. She looked like she was in her late thirties, but something about her dark eyes told me that her actual age was a few years older. She had dark hair with a few streaks of gray and the smile she gave me was friendly .

“Aleena Davison?” she asked as I stood .

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, offering my hand .

“I’m Fawna Harris and I’ll be continuing this interview .”

“Oh.” I hoped I hadn’t done or said anything to Frank that had bothered him .

Either I was very transparent or she was a mind reader, because she gave me a faint smile. “I’m just making a few more specific inquiries, that’s all.” She gestured towards the chair again. “Please, have a seat .”

I sat, still not completely reassured .

“Tell me a bit about yourself, Ms. Davison,” Fawna said .

I did, skimming over the past few years and what had led me to New York .

“What do you think are your greatest strengths ?”

I managed to smile, even though mentally, I wanted to groan. I hate this question .

“I’m organized, punctual and a bit of a perfectionist,” I said. “Based on performance reviews at my job back in Iowa, I’m a hard worker .”

“Those are all great job skills to list,” Fawna said. “But what about you? Personally. What are your greatest strengths as a person ?”

“Ahhh…well, I’m honest.” I shrugged. As nerves jangled inside me, I smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle out of my skirt. “I try not to be rude about it and I know when not to say anything, but I don’t believe in sugarcoating things when the truth is just easier. Some people might see that as a weakness, but I think it’s a strength .”

As Fawna made a motion to continue, I straightened, feeling more confident .

“I already told Frank that I’m organized and I’ve mentioned that I’m punctual—those aren’t business traits—those are me traits. My life is just easier if I stay organized and I don’t like running behind. It throws me off balance, although I also know how to shift and go with the flow. Sometimes you have to make adjustments. I’ve got thick skin and I know how to tolerate people—sometimes you deal with some unpleasant types when you work with the public .”

At that, Fawna laughed. “Only sometimes .”

“Usually only once or twice a day,” I replied with a straight face .

“And clearly, you have a sense of humor.” Now she smiled at me .

“It helps with most things .”

“Doesn’t it?” She nodded, her expression revealing nothing. “And your weaknesses ?”

I gave myself a moment to think. I could listen a dozen things—or more. But how many were real and how many were imagined? I just didn’t know .

“I’m still learning how to speak up for myself. That can be a weakness, but I’m getting better at it,” I said finally. “I put people ahead of myself, which can be a strength, but I sometimes take it too far, giving up something I want for reasons that most people would ignore. I don’t have a lot of experience outside of working in restaurants

“You get experience by working,” Fawna said, interrupting. She waved her hand as though this was the least of her concerns .

I managed a weak smile. “Well, I think that’s about it.” I hesitated and then added, “Although I’m not from here. I grew up in the Midwest. A lot of people seem to think that’s an issue here .”

“We don’t.” Fawna gave me that same easy smile. “Did you have a specific job in mind when you arrived ?”

“No,” I said .

“One final question, Ms. Davison. How did you hear about the open interviews today ?”

Shit. Dominic hadn’t said I shouldn’t tell anyone that he’d given me the information, but the fact that Fawna asked told me that something about me being here had piqued her curiosity. I supposed this was one of those times that being truthful was going to be a weakness, but I wasn’t going to lie. For all I knew, they hadn’t advertised and saying that would get me kicked out .

“A man named Dominic Snow told me about the open interviews,” I said. I thought I saw surprise flicker across her eyes, but then it was gone, if it had been there at all. “He didn’t mention that it’d be a problem for me to just come in .”

“It’s not,” Fawna said. She stood. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Davison. You’ll receive a call from us tomorrow regarding our decision .”

Well.

Okay, then .

* * *

L ater that night, I had plans with Chinese food, beer and Molly .

It was the ideal way to get my mind off everything and it was even better since Emma wasn’t home .

If I was lucky, she’d stay out late—or maybe just spend the night with her boyfriend .

With one eye on the clock, I jumped in the shower and hurried through it, scouring off a day of walking around New York City. I’d hit what felt like a hundred other places, including one of the second interviews. I thought I just might get that one, which was good. I didn’t think anything was going to come of that interview at the Winter Corporation .

I was still dripping water when Molly knocked .

With a towel wrapped around me, I hurried to the door and checked the peephole. It was indeed her. I undid the series of locks and let her in. “Come on,” I said, staying behind the door as she came inside and then shutting it immediately behind her .

As she playfully leered at me, I darted back into the bathroom and finished drying off .

“Where’s the dragon?” she called through the door .

“Out. She wasn’t here when I got in.” I rubbed some lotion on and dragged on clothes before heading out with some cream and a towel for my hair. That was never a quick job and I needed it to be dry before I went to bed, even if that was a couple of hours from now .

Molly had the food set up on the coffee table and a case of beer sitting next to it .

“That looks perfect,” I said, rubbing at my hair with a towel. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to relax until now .

I plopped down next to Molly on the couch. The springs gave an overload squeak under my weight and I automatically shifted to find the spot that wouldn’t jab into my ass. The couch had been here when I’d answered Emma’s ad for a roommate and it had been here when she had moved in. No telling how old the thing was .

“How goes the job search?” Molly asked, passing me a can of beer .

It was frosty. The Chinese was hot. Maybe one night this week wouldn’t totally suck .

“So-so.” I shrugged as I cracked the top of the beer and took a drink. I wasn’t huge on the taste, but tonight, it didn’t matter. “I had a second interview at one place and it sounds promising. Then there was an open interview at the Winter Corporation .”

“What’s that?” Molly asked as she pulled her feet up underneath her. “Never heard of it .”

“Me either,” I admitted. “Guess they own hotels and airlines or something like that .”

“So they’re interviewing for pilots?” Molly grinned. “You holding out on me, Aleena ?”

I broke open the take-out box and breathed in the scent of Kung Pao chicken. My favorite. “You’re a real comedienne, Mol. Seriously. Why you wasting time serving tables anyway? You ought to be headlining somewhere .”

“Here every day at six,” she said, nodding soberly. Then she saluted me with her chopsticks .

As the two of us ate, I told her about my weird interview and how I’d found out about it to begin with. True to form, she was more interested in hearing about Dominic Snow than my job possibilities. I was willing to oblige, preferring to ogle him in memory as opposed to worrying about how I would make ends meet .

Before I knew it, it was nearing midnight and we’d drank our way through most of a twelve-pack. I’d also forgotten all about the weird day I’d had or the shit that had come before it. It was just another night, hanging out with Molly and talking about whatever happened to come to mind .

We were in the middle of a discussion about the most appropriate way for Gary to meet a painful death when the door opened and Emma came in. She stopped halfway into the room and looked around, taking in the cans and boxes we had scattered all around us. The expression on her face was more than eloquent .

“I’ll clean it up,” I said, holding a hand over my chest. “I promise .”

I could all but see the steam coming out of her ears .

“Well, I guess this is one way to deal with your shitty life.” Emma’s snide comment didn’t annoy me as much as it would have if I’d been sober .

Molly laughed, the loud raucous laugh of someone who was pretty well plastered. “Her shitty life? Why don’t you take a look in the mirror? Nah, I know what it is. You want everyone to be as fucking miserable as you are.” Molly stood up and she had to balance herself on the arm of the couch before she could take a step forward. With a snide grin in place, she pointed at Emma. “I get it. Really. You’re a miserable bitch whose life has gone down the toilet—but that doesn’t mean everyone else around you has to be that way too .”

I opened my mouth to tell Molly to lay off, but by the time my beer-soaked brain got the message, Emma had already stalked off towards her bedroom .

I looked at Molly and she shrugged .

“That was harsh,” I said .

“That was truth,” Molly pointed out .

“That doesn’t mean you need to say it,” I said, shaking my head. But I didn’t go after Emma .

I felt bad for her. Really. It had to be hard, coming to New York with a specific dream and never reaching it .

But Emma was so negative, about everything. Nothing was ever good enough and nobody ever did anything to her satisfaction .

You are late on the rent, a small voice pointed out. Guilt twisted in me. Yeah. There was that. She had a reason to be aggravated with me .

If I could get one of these jobs, I could get caught up on the money I owed her .

I really wanted something where I could make enough money and get my own place, but unless I was pulling in at least four grand a month, that wasn’t likely. Rent in New York City was obscene. This small place cost almost fourteen hundred a month .

Finding an affordable place while I worked as a server was slim to none. My good mood gone, I drained the rest of my beer and reached for the last can .

My life had gone from not that great to lousy in the blink of an eye. What was worse, I had no idea what to do about it .

This sucked .

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