Forgiven

OLIVIA, IT’S GO TIME

“It isn’t… ‘too much’?” Or should I say, ‘not enough’? I knew asking my bestfriend Frankie to help me get ready for the job interview was going to be a mistake but she was so excited for me – how could I not let her help? But as anticipated, what she considers appropriate for such an occasion is not the same as me – thus the uncertainty on my part.

“Your resume will make you stand out on paper, now you’ll stand out in a crowd too,” she boasts. I cringe, fearing she may be right. The outfit isn’t terrible or overly revealing – on another woman. On me, for my comfort level – I may as well be naked. The black stockings have a stripe racing up the back – ‘so I look good going and coming’ Frankie says, the knee-length skirt fits me like a second skin and the blouse has an extremely low ‘V’ in the front. It only truly shows if I bend over which I don’t foresee doing and I’m wearing a suit jacket overtop but I still feel exposed. This outfit definitely isn’t ‘me’ but if it will help me land the job, I guess I’m not above using my sexuality as an advantage.

Is any of us, really?

Frankie drops me off in front of the building where the interview is – the building where I hope to be working after today and I head inside. ‘Carson Corp.’ is family owned and run, has been for four generations and is currently headed by a pair of brothers; Matthew who is the CEO and Dylan who is the CFO. I did as much research as I could into the company and to some degree, the two Mr. Carsons so I could be as ready as possible for this interview. When I was a little girl, I had different dreams than the reality I’m living but I can’t complain – my life is what I make of it and it is going pretty well.

It’ll be great if I land this job.

Be the Executive Assistant to Mr. Carson, CEO comes with a hefty paycheque and that is what is so desperately missing in my life right now. Ever since my parents were killed by an impaired driver, the little bit of insurance they did have scarcely covered their funeral expenses. I had to find a less expensive place to live which means a dicier neighbourhood along with it but since I’ve made a point to get to know my neighbours, so far, so good.

If I get this job, I can quit my three part-time jobs and maybe eventually move into a slightly safer area. It’ll be a while since I’m carrying some of my parents’ debt but after three years of knocking myself out, I’m almost done. This job will push me to the finish line that much faster. I have the skills and can take the pressure; they just have to give me the opportunity to prove myself. I hope Frankie is right and this outfit is what helps me to stand out, because as I take a seat in the waiting area and look around… I’m in trouble. There are men and women here of all ages, clearly all waiting to interview for the same position I am. One woman I would guess in her fifties is visually eating everyone alive with the look of disdain she is giving us and I intuitively know she’s the kind of person they’re going to hire. Someone tough, who will hold the front line at all costs so to speak and I have zero doubt no one gets past this lady if she doesn’t want them to. Could I be that tough if called upon?

Damn right.

I may not look like much but I can be feisty when I have to be. Unfortunately, that is precisely when my mouth tends to get me into trouble. It’s happened before, I’m sure it’ll happen again – despite my best efforts.

I do try to behave, honest.

It gets harder to keep my mouth shut as the day passes slowly and interviewee by interviewee disappears through a pair of double doors, never to return. A new person goes in every twenty minutes or so, never any longer than that and after interminably long hours, it is my turn.

I approach the black hole pair of doors and straighten my clothes, inhaling deeply. Phone on silent, resume in hand I enter the room. Inside I find two men and a woman; one man and the woman are turned to look at me while the other man has his back to the door and is looking out the window. I pause inside the doorway, unsure where to sit until the man looking at me approaches with his hand extended. I wisely did my research prior to the interview so I knew that the Carson brothers were good looking but seeing one up close and in person?

Holy shit.

“Good afternoon, I’m Dylan Carson and we thank you for coming in to interview for the Executive Assistant position,” he says as he shakes my hand. He takes my resume as he turns to the other two people.

“Here we have Louise, the reason we’re looking for a new EA since she’s retiring,” I take the second to shake her hand and congratulate her on her retirement. How exciting that must be!

“And this is my brother, the CEO and who the EA is for – Matthew Carson,” he says as he introduces me to the other man who has finally turned around. If Dylan Carson is worthy of a ‘Holy Shit’ than his brother is a ‘Hot Damn!’ Both brothers are around six feet tall, brown hair and brown eyes – the epitome of ‘tall, dark and handsome’. Matthew Carson makes me weak in the knees, plain and simple but if he became my boss – that is all he’d ever be.

I don’t do the whole screwing the boss thing – such a cliché.

Even if he is drop-dead gorgeous… sigh.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all, my name is Olivia Anderson,” I say by way of introduction as I shake Matthew Carson’s hand. He looks me straight in the eye and for a brief second, I’m frozen in place, unable and unwilling to look away.

They than proceed with the interview with Mr. Carson, CFO asking the majority of the questions while the man who would actually be the one in charge sits quietly and listens. I answer honestly, hoping for the best but refusing to lie and the interview goes well. After roughly fifteen minutes Mr. D. Carson stands up and looks to his brother.

“Those are all of my questions, so if you have nothing further, brother—” he says to dismiss me. I start to stand, fully prepared to leave when Mr. M. Carson holds his hand up, stopping us both. His brother sits back down, a look of incredulousness on his face while I sit silently in anticipation of whatever he is about to throw at me.

I mean, it’s just an interview – right?