Page 19 of Let Me Love You
“And is it a problem for you? To abstain from relationships with coworkers?”
My brows knit. “Not at all. Relationships aren’t exactly on the forefront of my mind.”
“Hmm.” She takes off her glasses and sets them on the sheet of paper she’d been studying. I can now see it is my resume. She steeples her fingers in front of her. “Nice to meet you.”
I jerk back in my seat. “That’s it?”
“Yes, that will be all.”
She has to be joking. Even my worst interviews have been longer than two minutes. She didn’t even bother to ask some of the most basic standard questions in the health industry.
Like seriously. What is this woman’s problem?
“That will be all,” she repeats, her tone as sharp as a fucking tack.
Snapping myself out of my paralysis, I stand and offer my hand. “Well, thank you for your time, Ms. Foster.”
Her smile is forced at best. I’m not surprised when she shakes my hand gingerly, her fingers barely touching mine. Like I’m diseased or some shit.
At this point, I’d be more surprised if Ididwind up getting the job.
“Good day to you, Miss Rutherford.” She lets my hand go, wipes it on her chocolate-colored slacks, and motions to the office door. “We’ll reach out if we’re interested.”
Aaaand, that’s my cue.
Without a word, I turn my back on the head of Lockwood Medical’s Human Resources department, finding the office door still cracked open. Either she’s spacey and doesn’t know the meaning of privacy, or she meant to keep it open and had no intention of giving me a real shot in the first place. My fingernails dig into my palms as I push the door open the rest of the way and stop short.
A woman in scrubs is on the opposite side, her expression apologetic. She’s pretty. With hazel eyes, blue hair, and a kind smile.
“Hey,” she greets me with a small wave of her left hand. A tattoo covers her forearm, and it’s beautiful. A book with a rose. Something is written, too, although I can’t make it out.
Maybe my tattoos didn’t piss off Ms. Foster after all.
It was probably my gleaming personality.
My guard immediately drops around the stranger, and I glance over my shoulder at Ms. Foster’s office. I clear my throat. “Hi. Did you want to talk to—”
Raising one finger in a silent give-me-a-second motion, she steps around me, closes Ms. Foster’s door with a quiet click, then turns to me again.
“I want to apologize for Ms. Foster,” she starts.
My brows raise. “Excuse me?”
“I’m Caity, by the way.” She offers her hand for me to shake, so I take it, more confused than ever.
“I’m Mia,” I reply. “Hi.”
She grimaces and lets my hand go. “I know who you are.”
What the hell?
I tilt my head, looking at her again, but she’s as much of a stranger as she was a moment ago. Maybe she’s been into SeaBird? No, I’m usually pretty good with faces, and I’ve never seen this girl before.
I shake my head and ask, “I’m sorry. How do you know me?”
“Well, for one, I handle Ms. Foster’s schedule, and second, I may have overheard a few of the nurses talking about you, and…” Her voice trails off, and her gaze falls to the floor, leaving her looking guilty as hell.
“I’m sorry…the nurses were talking about me?” I ask. “How would they even know about me?”