Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
I was here for an interview, not to make friends. That was not the goal.
I mean, friends would be nice but they weren’t a necessity, and I’d gone this far without them, so—
“Emily Aldrich.”
My head snapped up, and grabbing my backpack, I slung it over my shoulder and stood. I made my way toward the door and the mature man seemed to blanch when he regarded me.
I forced a wide smile. “Hello, I’m Emily.”
“Uh…” He took another look at me and then uttered, “Micah. Nice to meet you.”
We shook hands briefly and the second I stepped into the room, I stilled.
A man sat on a swivel chair but that’s not what made me balk. The man… he was big, and muscly, and he had tattoos.
Oh, dear Lord.
I swallowed hard.
He was also very attractive.
Oh my. He sure is.
I tried to swallow a second time, but my mouth was dry and my tongue stuck.
Lord, no. Why?
He was one of the beautiful people.
When he noticed me, he stood and waited expectantly. With Micah at my back, clearing his throat, I shot forward. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I held out my hand to the handsome guy and pasted on my sunniest smile. “Hi, I’m Emily.” The man encased my small hand within his large one and I couldn’t help but stare. And because my brain-to-mouth filter had never really seemed to work properly, I just had to open my mouth and say, “Wow. Big hands.”
And the moment I realized what I said, my face bunched, I shrunk in on myself and groaned quietly.
Way to sound like an idiot, Emily. All of those years of college clearly paid off.
The man chuckled and I flushed neon pink. I snatched my hand back and dipped my chin. “I’m sorry.” My voice was barely there as I unconsciously wrung my hands together. “I’m a little nervous.”
“No problem.” The stud’s voice was so low and rough that I immediately broke out in goosebumps. Thank God I was wearing a jacket. “Please, sit.”
Yes. Sitting was good. I could only think of a handful of ways to humiliate myself while sitting. Standing, however? The possibilities were endless.
The three of us took our seats and there was no dillydallying. They got right into it.
Micah looked to the tattooed man and asked, “Where do you wanna start?”
He-man looked down at his scribbled-on notepad and started with, “Okay, well, I’ve read your resume, Miss Aldrich, and—”
“Oh, please. Call me Emily,” I cut in, and the man smiled politely.
“Emily. And—”
Here’s the thing. I had this slight issue when I got edgy. I spoke over people. Today was obviously—tragically—no exception. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I didn’t catch your name.”
The man smiled wider. A long moment passed and, quite sluggishly, his smile fell. Once it had faded completely, he frowned over at Micah and I wondered what I had said to get that reaction.
Oh, wow. My stomach hurt. And was that…?
Yep.
I was sweating.
Nice.
Micah narrowed his eyes at me and I knew I was messing this up terribly. Another second and my own eager smile started to fall. With my hands in my lap, I started to pluck at my thumbnail and bounce my knee in anxiousness.
Emily, what did you do?
Ugh. I don’t know!
The silence was killing me.
All eyes were on me and I didn’t like it. I preferred to remain invisible. It was something I had easily done my entire life. But today, I wasn’t so fortunate.
Both men searched my face a while before the tattooed stud cleared his throat and kept his curious gaze on me. “I apologize. My name is Noah.”
That was a lovely name, and for whatever reason, I told him just that. My smile was small but genuine. “That’s a lovely name.”
“Thank you, Emily.” Noah smiled in return, and then his smile grew, and the next thing I knew he was chuckling to himself. “That’s kind of you.” His laughter lasted a while and I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Never had a job interview been as awkward as this one and what stank was that it was all on me. I was wasting this blessed opportunity and although I kept a semi-cool front, I was dying on the inside.
Do better, Em. Be better.
Okay.
Noah smiled down at his notepad. “Now I see you’ve completed a double degree.”
“Yes,” I told him, shuffling on my seat. “I have a bachelor’s degree in Business Management, and another in Creative Writing.”
Noah’s mouth softened at the pride in my tone and it changed his entire face. “And what did you plan on doing with those?”
Ah, crud.
This was the part where people usually laughed at me.
Whelp, here goes nothing.
I held my head up high and stated, “Originally, I wanted to be an author.”
There it was, out there, out in the open. I quietly paused to allow for the condescending laughter to commence.