Tory double-checked the address on the employment papers from the packet she’d been sent, looked at the seemingly abandoned building in front of her and back. “This can’t be right,” she muttered, but the numbers matched. She watched two men enter the building, followed by a few workmen. “Excuse me,” she called.
One turned, and she noticed he was carrying a can of paint and a roller. He also didn’t look happy at the interruption. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, I have an appointment here. Are there offices in there?”
He glanced at the building. “Believe it or not, yeah, there’s a few. Don’t know what they are, but they’re occupied.”
“That’s good to know. The building’s being refurbished?”
“Yeah, part of the whole downtown redevelopment thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get upstairs.”
“Of course – thank you for the information.” He turned and headed into the building. As soon as he was gone Tory breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens.” The envelope she’d opened a few days ago contained information on a teaching job overseas. She’d put in for several such positions months ago but never heard anything back.
“If only you’d have sent me this last week,” she grumbled as she entered the building. “Then I wouldn’t be working for that sleaze ball Smith right now.” But money was money and she needed a lot if she wanted to get caught up on bills. Lord knew Benny was no help in that department. Besides, if this didn’t work out she’d still have a job, even if it wasn’t a good one.
She glanced around the lobby and listened to the sounds of workmen hammering and sawing away in future offices. The building was old and she wondered if there was an elevator. Not seeing one, she headed for the wide staircase in the center of the lobby. She liked that the old building was being refurbished. The stair railing was beautiful, as was the marble floor in the lobby area.
On the second floor she noticed several offices in use and smiled. Everything would be beautiful when it was finished. When she’d first laid eyes on the place she’d had visions of meth labs. or sex traffickers luring innocent women into dark rooms and kidnapping them. But a real estate firm occupied the office closest to her, and beyond that was an accountant’s office. The next two offices were under construction.
At the end of the hall was the one she was looking for. “MacMos International Educators,” the plaque on the door read. Tory took a deep breath. “Okay now, Phelps, don’t blow this. You need this job.” She opened the door –
– and stopped dead in her tracks. The most beautiful woman she’d ever seen was sitting on the other side of a desk typing a letter. She looked up as Tory unfroze and approached. “Good afternoon,” she greeted. Her voice gave Tory an odd tingling sensation, like champagne flowing through her veins.
Tory blinked twice. “Uh, yes. I was contacted about a teaching position …”
“Oh, you must be Miss Phelps,” the woman stated.
Tory nodded. “Um, yes. That’s me.” Her voice sounded like a clunker truck starting up compared to the receptionist’s beautiful lilt. She studied the woman more closely. Her long auburn hair was thick and curly with streaks of gold, cinnamon and saffron. Such incredible highlights couldn’t be natural. But how could she have colored it that way? And her eyes were even more amazing – almond-shaped with an upward slant, and a fluorescent green that had to be tinted contacts, because no one’s eyes were that color!
Then Tory remembered she had business to attend to. “I have a 4:00 appointment with Mr. MacDonald,” she said, almost stumbling over the words.
The woman smiled. “Yes, I am aware. I will let him know you are here.” She stood. “Would you like some water or tea?”
“You have tea?” Not that she wanted any, as hot as it was. Thankfully, the office had air conditioning.
The woman went to a small counter at one wall. “I can make you an iced tea if you would like,” she said as if reading her thoughts.
“Iced tea would be great, thank you,” Tory said with a smile. She loved iced tea.
The woman nodded and headed to a door near the counter. “I will let Mr. MacDonald know you are here, then bring you both some tea.” Before Tory could comment, she disappeared into the other office.
This gave Tory a moment to study her surroundings. The office wasn’t fancy but looked respectable enough. She noted several packets on the desk similar to the one she’d received and wondered how many people had applied for this particular job. Or were there several openings? The one they’d chosen her for would be a dream come true … if she got it.
The woman returned, went to the desk, and picked up a sheaf of papers. “If you will follow me, Mr. MacDonald will see you now.”
Tory watched her head for the other door with a pinch of envy. The woman wore a simple white blouse and black pencil skirt, but filled it out in all the right places. But her jealousy didn’t stem from the woman’s looks – Tory did okay on her own in that department, thank you very much. It was that the woman didn’t so much walk as glide across the office and into the next. Tory didn’t have a graceful bone in her body.
Once in the adjoining office, she stopped short again. “Oh wow, it’s a loft,” she said in surprise. The room was huge, at least forty-five feet long, with high arched windows along one whole wall and a high ceiling, maybe twenty feet, But most of all, sitting behind a desk at the other end of the long room was a huge man that seemed to define the words “drop dead gorgeous.” Oh my Lord, Tory thought, how am I going to get through this interview without drooling all over myself?!
The man looked at his secretary admiringly and hinted at a smile before turning to Tory. So they had a thing, huh? she silently mused. She looked at the man’s left hand, and sure enough, he was wearing a ring. Figured – all of the good ones were taken.
The man stood. “Miss. Phelps, I’m Mr. MacDonald. ‘Tis good to finally meet you.”
Tory stared at him a moment. His accent was Scottish. He was very tall – six-five, easily – and his hair was dark, wavy and longer than what she expected a businessman to have, tied back in a ponytail. He was fierce-looking, like some barbarian warrior from a movie, but wore a business suit like he’d been born in it. His voice was deep and smooth, and his eyes were the same bright green as his secretary’s.
“Thank you,” she finally said, remembering her manners. “It’s nice to meet you too. So, uh, do you live here in Stockton?”
He chuckled. “Nay, lass. I’m no from here. I …” His eyes flicked to his secretary. “… came here to do the interviews. My accent always makes people ask me the same question, though.”
“So this isn’t a permanent office?”
“‘Tis for now. We’re recruiting in the area, ye ken. Have a seat.” He motioned to a chair on the other side of the desk and she quickly took it. He smiled again, then turned to his secretary. “Shona, I could do with some water.”
Shona smiled at him, and Tory swore she felt something pass between them. She glanced at his secretary’s left hand … ah, all was clear. She was wearing a matching ring – they were a married couple. So nepotism ran in the family around here? But what business was it of hers? She was there to get a job, not judge the interviewer.
Shona left the room with the grace of a doe to fetch his drink. With my luck she’ll bring the water and forget all about my tea, Tory thought.
Mr. MacDonald rifled through the pile of papers Shona had put on his desk. “So ye attended the local college?”
Tory opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Oh, how embarrassing! She smiled and swallowed. She could really use that iced tea about now. “Yes, I’ve, um, taken classes there.” Which was a stupid thing to say considering he was looking at the papers that said so. “Community college. Not the University.” Okay, now she wanted to hit herself – that would be in the papers too.
He smiled gently, continuing to look through the stack. Finally he set them aside, picked up a file and opened it. “But ye don’t have a license or a credential?”
And this was it. The final blow. The. End. She might as well get up and walk out. “No, I’m afraid not. In fact you’ll note on my application that I’ve only had some college. I never finished. I don’t even have my associate’s degree.” If she was going down in flames, she might as well throttle up and get it over with.
“Ye put in this application months ago. Have ye taken any classes since?”
It was an odd question, but what the hey? “No, I’ve been too busy working. Not that I didn’t want to take any,” she quickly added. “But paying the bills came first.”
He scribbled something, then tapped the end of his pencil against the file. “But ye still desire to teach English abroad?”
Her heart leaped at the word “abroad.” It was the reason she applied for such a position in the first place – she wanted to teach, and jobs like this didn’t require a bachelor’s degree and a teaching certificate, at least not at this company. “Yes, I certainly do.” She tacked on a smile for good measure.
He smiled back, and was about to comment when his secretary entered with a small tray. She set it on the table and gave them each a glass – Tory her iced tea, Mr. MacDonald his water. There was also a plate of chocolate chip cookies, big, fat, and chewy-looking, like the ones you get after donating plasma. She’d done that a few times, literally giving blood to make ends meet. The big Scot eyed them, glanced at his wife(?), bit his lower lip and shoved the plate towards Tory. “Cookie?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t …”
“I would take one now if I were you,” Shona commented as she turned to leave. “Otherwise he will eat all of them.” Yes, definitely his wife.
He narrowed his eyes at her retreating form. Once she left, he took three cookies and got back to business. “The position is in Sussex, England …”
* * *
Tory left the interview feeling downright confident. Mr. MacDonald might be big and angry-looking, but once she got him laughing he made her feel right at home. And it was nice to see a couple that seemed so happily married. Maybe they were newlyweds. Who knew? All she knew was that she had a good chance at getting this job. She’d find out in a few days – Mr. MacDonald said he’d call her either way to let her know.
Everything hinged on her taking a few classes, but that was no problem – they were at night, which fit her schedule. She got off work early enough that she’d still have time to go home, grab a bite to eat and get down to the building near the airport where the classes were held. She just hoped Benny didn’t ask too many questions. The job would pay very well, but it meant leaving the United States. Poor Benny would be totally on his own, to sink or swim. Perhaps to sink and take her house with him.
Of course, that was if she got the job to begin with. If she did, she’d go to England, starting as a private tutor for a sort of probation period. Survive that, and she’d be in charge of a classroom. The United Kingdom had an influx of immigrants whose English wasn’t very good. She wished she’d thought to ask what countries the immigrants were from, but she’d been so excited over the direction the interview was going that she didn’t want to press.
Once home, Tory changed her clothes and made a sandwich. She had no idea where Benny was, and part of her hoped he didn’t come home for a while – she wanted time to think before she went to bed. On the other hand, the rest of her wanted her car back. Taking the local bus to her interview had not been a pleasant experience.
After eating she went into the living room with pen and paper and made a list of everything she’d need to take care of before she left. She also made a list of everything Benny would need to take care of after she left. Needless to say, both lists were long. How to break the news to him? She didn’t want him to pitch a fit and break something. She glanced around, wondering what she ought to put out of sight for safety’s sake.
She stopped herself. “Tory, you’re being ridiculous. He’s an immature jerk, but…” She remembered him flipping the couch over. “… okay, he’s a jerk who breaks things.” Tory got up and moved the vase and pictures from the mantle to a corner, then did the same in the kitchen and dining room. If he asked where everything was, she’d tell him she’d been dusting.
She was thinking about Benny-proofing her own room when the phone rang. She picked it up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, doll,”
Tory mimed gagging. “Mr. Smith. What do you need?”
“Oh, doll, I’d love to tell you what I need, but this isn’t a personal call, this is business. I need you to come in an hour early tomorrow.”
She ignored his lurid line. “An hour? Why?”
“On account Maria’s having her baby tonight. You’d think she could wait until next week.”
Tory rolled her eyes. “Fine. Don’t worry, I’ll get the laundry done in time.”
“I knew I could count on you, doll.”
Tory cringed and rolled her eyes again. “Is that it?”
“That’s it. See you tomorrow.” Click.
Tory groaned and hung up. Her employer might be a perv, but he did do his share of the work around the place. She’d seen him step up when he was needed. Maybe Benny could take over her job – Mr. Smith wouldn’t be as ticked off at her departure if she’d lined up a replacement. Of course, Benny was lazy and slow, but that would be Mr. Smith’s problem, not hers. Besides, Benny would have to learn to hustle if he was going to take care of himself. With any luck, it would stick.
Tory smiled at the thought, grabbed the remote, turned on the TV and settled in to watch some Law & Order.