Page 12 of One Night in Vegas
“It can’t come soon enough.”
I wondered just how high up the food chain the executive was that needed an assistant. What if it was one of those that was nice to his employees but a dick to those closest to him, like his assistant? Like Harold. He was a great professor and students seemed to love him. But he was a different man when we were in the office.
It didn’t matter. I needed change. Maybe it was some high-powered woman that had clawed her way to the top. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to work for a man or a woman. There were pros and cons to both.
I imagined working in a busy office with phones ringing and people running back and forth. The hustle and bustle would be exciting. Lord knew I wasn’t getting that in the professor’s office. It would be nice just to have someone to talk with that was closer to my age. Maybe I could even make friends with the other assistants. It was a new leaf. I just had to hope I wasn’t jumping out of a kettle into the fire.
After class, we changed and made plans for dinner at our favorite salad bar. I met her there after picking up my dry cleaning. She was sipping a green smoothie. “Guess what?” she asked with a bright smile.
“What?”
“I got you an interview,” she announced.
“No!”
She clapped her hands. “I did.”
“I need details, but first I need food. Give me two seconds.”
She already had her salad plated up. I was giddy but starving. I had only managed to scarf down a shitty tuna sandwich from the cafeteria at lunch. I loaded up the plate, dumped ranch over the top, and rushed back to the table.
“Tell me everything,” I blurted out. “Just how executive are we talking?”
“I’m not sure, but the interview is at eleven thirty,” she said. “Can you make it?”
“I don’t care if I have to walk there,” I said. “I’msogoing to be there.”
“What about Harold?”
“I usually stay on campus for lunch, but I’ll leave,” I said, shrugging. “I might be a little late, but he’ll never notice. I’ll just tell him I was getting copies or something. I’m absolutely going to be there.”
“Good,” she said. “I think this company is going to be a good change for you. I’ve only met a few of the execs in meetings, but like I said, they were all really nice. They bring their ideas and we are always able to have good, meaningful discussions. That’s not always easy when you get a bunch of hotshots in the same room. Trust me, I’ve met with plenty of execs and the egos are enough to suck the oxygen out of the room.”
“I have to put together an outfit,” I said. “It can’t be what I wear to the college. I need to look sharp. I need to look like someone that belongs in a high-powered office.” I looked at my phone. “It’s too late to go shopping.”
“I’m sure you have something in your closet you can wear,” she said.
“Everything is covered in cat hair,” I groaned.
“That’s why they invented lint rollers,” she said.
“Seriously, if I don’t get this job, I will lose my mind. I don’t know if it’s because I’m approaching thirty and I’m having a pre-midlife crisis. I’ve got one cat. I smell like mothballs. I wear frumpy sweaters. I’m perpetually single with no prospects. I pretty much have my old spinster cat-lady starter pack completed.”
She laughed at my self-pity. “You’re almost thirty, which is really the new twenty,” she said. “You do not have the starter pack. You’re just having a bad week. Now that you know there is a problem, you’ll fix it.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked. “My sweaters? The cat?”
“The job,” she said. “You feel old because you spend forty hours a week with senior citizens. We’re going to get you back in the real world.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” I said. “Tell me more about this company. Is it bougie?”
“Yes,” she said.
“What is the company?”
“Watches,” she said. “They make watches. All kinds. Men, women, athletic. Mostly dressy.”
“Are we talking Gucci or Timex?” I teased. “I need to know just how much I should dress up.”