Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
If I started working and Andrew and I started to have feelings for each other, that would be different. But to start off with expectations that would influence his decisions just didn’t work for me. It was more than just a matter of preference. It was plain wrong.
Mom’s opinions and lectures dominated the rest of the trip back home. When we turned down the street, and the familiar red brick and black trim house greeted me, I felt the same sense of dread I’d felt when I left for Dallas. I didn’t want to be here. I’d failed in getting a job. I’d failed to kick-start my new life. What was more, I’d failed to meet the one person I’d been most eager to introduce myself to, all for a job I didn’t get because of advances I didn’t want.
Once my head hit the cool pillow on my bed, I cried. I wasn’t sure whether it was my mom’s nonstop lecture, the failed trip, the night with Andrew, or Ryan, but I let my blubbering sounds melt into the cotton pillowcase along with my tears.
Thank God Mom didn’t check on me. She didn’t know when to shut up, but she was good at giving me space when I hid in my room. It was the only place within her realm where I could breathe, even if my body wouldn’t let me right now.
My phone rang, and for a moment, I considered ignoring it and went to turn off the ringing sound, but I caught sight of the caller ID, Mayhew Industries, and my stomach twisted. Maybe Andrew was calling to apologize. I didn’t know him well enough to know what was normal for him. Maybe he’d had too much to drink that night and realized how awful he’d been. Or maybe the front desk was calling to let me know I’d definitely not gotten the job.
Either way, the maybes ignited my curiosity. I sat up and swallowed the tightness in my throat, sniffing one more time before I swiped to answer.
“Hello?” I flinched at the raspy sound in my voice and cleared my throat. “This is Christie.”
“Christie Hannam?”
Neither the front desk nor Andrew. I cleared my throat again, resting my back against the wall. “This is she.”
“Christie, good afternoon. This is Michael Mayhew, of Mayhew Industries. Did I call at a good time?”
I sat up straighter, and the springs creaked under my weight. Andrew’s father. “Hey, Mr. Mayhew. It’s a good time. How can I help you?”
“I’m calling with regard to your application. It was brought to my attention that you were called in for an interview with Andrew, and I wanted to follow up on that. Were you here after hours for an impromptu interview?”
My stomach curdled at the stern tone he had. Was I in trouble? “Yes, sir. I believe your office scheduled my interview.”
“Yes, I apologize for that. It seems there was a mistake, and I want to apologize for any issues it may have caused. You weren’t supposed to come in without a few other necessary members present, and had I knowledge of it, you would not have been called in when you were.”
“Andrew did tell me the interview was informal.”
“Well, that’s not our protocol, and I apologize for the confusion. Are you available to come in sometime today? I’d like to conduct a formal interview and, perhaps, treat you to lunch with the team you’ll be working with.”
The knot in my throat stole my voice. I wanted to tell him about Andrew, about what happened, but he was extending a job offer, almost. I could still get this job. I could still get out of the house. But then, what about Andrew?
“Mr. Mayhew, I don’t want to start things on the wrong foot, but would I be working under Andrew Mayhew? I would love to consider the opportunity, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the environment Andrew presented when I interviewed with him.” I replayed my words, trying to figure out how he’d respond before he did.
“Would you mind explaining what you mean? Yes, Andrew does head the committee responsible for leading our software engineers, so he will work directly with you and your team. Is that a problem?”
I glared at the phone. I just said that was a problem. Was he trying to get me to admit something? Or maybe he was trying to get me to avoid saying it aloud by acting ignorant. He’d called to apologize, but he probably didn’t know that Andrew had come on to me. Was it worth saying something?
“I, well,” I stammered.
“I understand that you and Andrew were not in a professional environment, but—”
“He came on to me, sir,” I blurted, clutching the phone and racing through a dozen scenarios where this ended with me in the ditch, homeless, jobless, and on every do-not-hire board that existed.