Could that possibly have gone any worse? Sitting there with my head in my hands, I tried to think objectively. It was hard with the tears that kept running down my face.

Sure, it could have gone worse. Like if I’d picked up the NT3000 and bashed Justine over the head with it. That would have been worse. Less embarrassing, but worse since I would’ve ended up in jail.

Or the heat from the embarrassment on my face could’ve made my hair catch fire. But would that have been worse than how badly I’d done in the interview? I honestly wasn’t sure.

“You’ve been here a long time. Do you need some help?”

Startled, I looked up. I was in a restroom off the lobby of Seth-Tech. I’d tried to hold back the tears until I was out of the building, but I’d only made it as far as the lobby. Now, I was sitting on the lid of a very high-tech toilet. It had a panel with a dozen or so buttons, so I was glad I didn’t need to use the toilet.

“Excuse me?” My voice echoed. It didn’t sound like there was anyone else here.

“Do you need me to call someone for assistance?”

Ah. The thing that had spoken was a small screen built into the door of the stall. Before, it had shown a slide show of Seth-Tech products. Now, if had a small menu of choices on it, among them:

• Call for assistance.
• Request extra toilet paper.
• Play music.
• Play waterfall noises.
• Tell a joke.

“No, thanks,” I said shakily. Talking to the door of a toilet stall didn’t rate very high on the list of eventful things that had happened today. I’d seen Seth Spencer. He’d talked to me, albeit from the stage. He’d called me pretty.

And then I’d blown my chance to work here. The tears came again.

“C’mon, pick the joke option. I promise, it won’t be dirty.”

“I’m good,” I said, and I reached over, trying to see if there was an off button.

“This is not a touchscreen!” the thing said when my finger neared. “No touching—you’re in a toilet stall.”

“Someone programmed you to say that?”

“Seth did,” it said.

“Really? Do you know him?” Wait, what the hell was I doing, gossiping with a screen? With a groan, I put my head back in my hands. Fortunately, the screen thingie fell silent, and a minute or two later, it went back to slide-show mode.

Somehow, I felt even worse. That stupid little thing talked better than I did. So did that robot earlier. Why couldn’t I gather my thoughts when I was speaking at an important event? With friends, like with my roommates in college, I could express myself well enough. But the moment a teacher called on me, my mind went blank. Eventually, they stopped calling on me.

The required public speaking class had been a nightmare. I’d flunked it the first time, the only class I’d ever failed, because every time I was due to give a presentation, I got sick. It wasn’t fake, either. I literally got sick to my stomach. The second time, the teacher made me talk to someone at the counselling center. Eventually, they’d let me turn in written speeches when it became clear I couldn’t talk in front of the class.

My phone vibrated in my purse, and I grabbed for it. Even though the ringer wasn’t on, the vibration sounded loud in the quietness of the restroom. “Hello?”

“Is this Erin?” The female voice sounded familiar.

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh, good. This is Justine. We need you to come back in.”

Justine? From the interview? What on earth did she want?

Whatever it was, I owed her an apology. “I, umm… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For before. I was nervous, and I…” My voice trailed off. This was the opposite side of the babbling. No words came to mind. Had you given me a pen, I could have written hundreds. But none sprang to my lips.

“You did fine,” she said, but she didn’t sound sincere. That didn’t bother me, I knew how my performance had been. “Can you come back to Seth-Tech?”

What? Why? Perhaps she wanted me to sign a waiver saying I’d never apply for any Seth-Tech job again. “I’m sorry, I have another appointment.” It was a lie, but it was for the greater good. I’d already wasted enough of her time today.

Nervously, I shifted my weight from foot to foot, wishing I could just go back to my tiny apartment, crawl under the covers, and never emerge again.

“Please, it’s really important. Seth would like to talk to you.”

Seth? Wanted to talk to me? Justine must have gotten me confused with one of the other applicants. “This is Erin White. The one you spoke to today. About a half hour ago.”

“I know.” Justine sounded amused. “Can you come back in?”

Closing my eyes, I shook my head. Whatever this was, it was going to end in even more humiliation. The kindest thing I could do for myself would be to leave this building and forget this day had ever happened.

“You’ve been here a long time. Do you need some help?”

Groaning, I took a quick step back. The little toilet door screen was glowing again. Had Justine heard that?

“Is that Loo?” she asked. Apparently, she had.

“Who’s Loo?”

“The toilet assistant,” Justine said at the same time the screen said, “That’s me.”

Justine laughed. “Are you in restroom off the lobby?” She continued on without giving me time to respond. “Don’t move, I’ll be right down.”

I’d barely finished washing my face when Justine walked in. I had no idea what to expect. Maybe I was in trouble for giving her that letter? I’d heard from some classmates at college that companies had strict rules for hiring procedures.

“I’m glad you’re still here.” She smiled at me in the mirror and then readjusted her perfect ponytail. Her hair was red, straight, and glossy. “Seth wants to see you.”

“Seth Spencer?” The blood drained from my face. She’d said that on the phone before, but I hadn’t truly taken it in.

“That’s the one,” she said with a laugh—probably at the expression on my face.

That couldn’t be possible. It just couldn’t. She must be mistaken. Or I was dreaming. There was just no way it was true. “But— he can’t… I can’t…“

“Erin, the CEO of the company where you just applied for a job wants to meet with you. Seems like it would a pretty damn good idea to take the meeting.” Her words were casual enough, but her eyes were hard. Probably she’d never, ever been nervous in her entire life. She looked like confidence personified as a slender, green-eyed redhead.

“But… but… I can’t meet Seth.”

“Pretty sure you can.”

“But…”

“Or you can spend the rest of your life kicking yourself for not finding out what he wanted.”

Oh god, she was right. I had to do this. I mean, I wanted to do this, but what if I said something stupid—like at the interview? What if I completely froze up? Normally, I was okay talking one-on-one in informal situations, but this was the Seth Spencer. It didn’t get any more high-stakes than that.

She was right, though. I couldn’t say no and spend the rest of my life regretting it. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

“Yes.”

She was certainly direct.

“Can I come up in five minutes?”

“Seth doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Then she looked at me and relented. “Okay, but just five. Then take the elevators to the fifth floor and tell the receptionist who you are.”

She walked to the door but stopped before exiting. Her expression softened a little. “You look fine. Just your face is a little red.”

“Thanks.”

She left and I turned back to the mirror. She probably thought I’d was going to do the world’s quickest makeover in preparation to meet Seth. And I did fix my hair and touch up my makeup. But that wasn’t the only thing I needed the five minutes for.

After adding water to the vase with the rose in it, I exited the lobby and dashed to the parking lot. Seth had given me this flower, albeit in an indirect way. Carefully, I placed it in the cup holder of my car.

No way was I getting rid of it.