It’s been so long since I did this. My hair is straight, the make-up is simple, and the clothes I chose to wear are professional — a black pencil skirt with a light pink silk shirt. The money I’ve been making with the channel was used on a shopping spree with Layla. By her words I needed professional clothing. I couldn’t agree more.
I arrive at the office ten minutes earlier, clutching my purse closer to my body and mentally encouraging myself. I am awesome; I can do this.
Opening the door, I stroll inside, the sound of my heels announcing my presence as I walk between the corridors. They are white, small pieces of art hang on the walls to make space seem a little comfortable. When I get in the elevator, one of the men inside undresses me with his eyes. I fight the urge to say that what is beneath the clothes isn’t for him, but then I remember, I don’t have a boyfriend.
Although one person comes to my mind.
Alexander isn’t mine, we have fun, the sex is great, but we haven’t talked about what we are. There may come a time when we will have to talk about that. Strictly because I need to know, but let’s be honest even if he says he wants sex, it’s not like I will tell him I can’t. I have small feelings for him, the moment they start to evolve into something more, I’ll make sure to back away if he is not in the same place I am.
The doctor’s office is easy to find in the building, and I knock on the door straightening myself before entering. I need to nail this interview, the money from the channel is good, but I miss working.
“Come in,” a steady voice says on the other side.
“Good afternoon Mr. Bolton, I’m Nicole,” I speak opening the door.
My eyes quickly peek at the man behind the desk as he lowers his glasses. A dashing smile almost blinds me before Dr. Bolton stands up and walks to where I stand. His sweet eyes smile at the same time as his lips, and he composes himself fixing his chestnut hair.
“Ah yes Nicole, thank you for coming,” he says, extending his hand towards me.
I take it with mine, and Dr. Bolton motions me to sit in the chair in front of his. As I do I take in everything in the office, he is probably Chinese, considering the characters and photos of Chinese monuments around the room. A decent mahogany bookshelf behind him standing against the white wall, filled with various authors books about psychology. On his desk sits a framed, slightly turned to me, where I can see him with an older couple. His parents, easy to spot because of the resemblance.
My first impression says he is professional, caring and close to his family, which is a relief.
“Thank you for the call, Dr. Bolton, I wasn’t expecting-”
“Please, Nicole, call me Jackson.”
The man wearing tight black slacks and a white button-up shirt kindly smiles at me taking the seat behind the desk again. He seems an approachable person, which is good considering my last boss was a pompous asshole. The fact he had a wife didn’t stop him from flirting with half the office.
Jackson opens his drawer and after searching for a few seconds, takes out my résumé, placing it on top of the desk.
“Tell me a little about yourself,” he says.
Typical question, I hate it.
“I’m Nicole. I’m a very dynamic person. I work well with teams and can listen carefully to patients’ problems. I do like to think out loud sometimes, and to give my opinion.”
“I see you did volunteer at an orphanage after finishing college?”
“Yes, it was part of my theses.”
He continues reading, nodding in the meantime.
“And are you still working with kids?”
The question I was afraid of is said out loud, and I bite down on my lip. The strap of my purse is nervously twitched between my fingers before I speak as honest as I can.
“Not at the moment. I prefer working with adults; kids can be an overwhelm of feelings to work with. Although I know I can’t get attached to them it’s impossible not to.”
“Because of your past?”
Jackson quirks up a brow, and I realize I never took that information out of my resume. The part were I left home at 16 and started to live by myself is still in there. Plus the part where I slapped a parent because he had beaten up his kid.
He stares at the white paper sheet, reading it again carefully. A small crease formed between his dark eyebrows reading the information carefully. Trying to make sense of it. I know I was lucky back then, the father of the kid didn’t press charges because his wife convinced him to. The fear of her taking him to court for hitting her and her son was too much for him, so I managed to pass by with a scold and an angry management class.
“Is that a problem?” I finally ask not able to contain myself.
“No, I’m sorry I was trying to figure why a 16-year-old would just leave her house.”
I sigh in relief, realizing he isn’t holding onto that part of the résumé.
“It’s a long story.”
Jackson chuckles at my words, putting the paper sheet down again.
“Maybe we can talk about it one day during your break.”
He stares at me long enough to make sure I understood his words correctly. During my break. A break I will do during work.
“You are more than qualified, I only ask for you not to let your anger come out,” he speaks taking out a set of papers I recognize as the ones I need to fill with my info. “Can you start next week?”
I got the job
I knew you would
You are amazing Nicole
We should celebrate
I’ll talk to you in a bit I’m going live
“So now I have a job. But don’t worry, I will still do lives. Not daily but I will try.”
MyJamsAreTheShit: I’m so proud of you
BigBookWorm: I will miss these constant chats
The congratulation comments make me smile. People can be so sweet, they barely know me and yet they are so kind.
“I will be here as much as I can. My work hours are mostly in the morning anyway.”
A: Good to know
The comment that pops up almost has me falling off the bed. He is here, and better he is commenting. This is something I wasn’t ready to.
MyJamsAreTheShit: HOLLY FUCKING COW, WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?
“Guys, behave,” I warn them. “A is a viewer; I want you to treat him well.”
He is typing, and I feel my chest about to burst by the way my heart starts to go crazy. What is Alexander doing here? He never watches me.
A: just a normal viewer?
I chuckle at the words that appear on my screen. He is putting me in a delicate place. Some of the viewers may not enjoy this. There won’t be many doubts from the others if he keeps teasing me, because I know I will react. Biting down on my lip I take a deep breath ready to accept any consequences.
“Nothing on you is normal.”
BitchQueen: oh fuck
MyJamsAreTheShit: he is smiling on the other side of the screen right now
My question is soon to be answered, but I wait nevertheless, quirking up a brow.
A: very much
The rest of the live goes smoothly, Alexander doesn’t speak much, only one question here and there about my day. Some of the other viewers seem to have a difficult time realizing I’m allowed to have a life outside my channel, or that I can’t come here all the time. At some point, I had to stop Layla from going after a guy who was demanding for attention, saying I can’t focus on anything else but the lives.
PeachDude: you are leaving us for A admit it
“I don’t know what you are implying, but you do realize I come here every day?”
A: dude just shut up
I sigh; the conversation isn’t going anywhere. This guy seems to want me to put everything around him, and I am not in the mood.
“Okay, that’s all for tonight. I will see you either tomorrow or the day after.”
Nova is offline
I close the computer and fall on my back sighing; some people are impossible to deal with. The sound of a text sounds on my pocket, and I take my phone out.
Meet me at the tea store in an hour
As I hit send replying to her, there’s another income text. My heart races as I snicker at the screen, reading it.
So I was thinking this cellebration should be some sort of date
What do you have in mind
What if I cook for you?
A dinner, with him, cooking? That sounds so intimate. My heart flutters at it, with the thought that maybe he doesn’t do this thing as usual. Because I know I don’t do.
Maybe Alexander is willing to take another step.
I know I am.