Page 4 of Cinderella-ish
“You’d do that forme?”
“Absolutely.” She removes a beautiful hot-pink cashmere scarf hanging on the back of her swivel desk chair and hands it to me. “Here you go, sweetie. This should do thetrick.”
“Oh, my! Are you sure it’sokay?”
“Girl Scout’s Honor. I would be beside myself if I didn’t lend a helping hand. Besides, like I was about to mention just before the phone interruption, jelly donuts seem to bea—”
The phone rings again and this time, Liza mouths the words, “I’m sosorry.”
I take the free moment to tie the scarf around my neck and let it hang slightly—just enough to cover the drasticstain.
Liza ends the call and informs me it’s time for her to escort me to my interview. She places a telephone headset over her ears, maneuvers her way from around her desk, and motions for me tofollow.
“This way,hun.”
I follow close behind as we enter a hallway, accessible only via her keycard. Liza seems as sweet as she is stylish. She’s wearing a cute black-and-white knee-length dress, black high-heeled pumps, and her blond hair is secured in a chic bun. She reminds me of a modern-day pinupgirl.
Our walk down the hall comes to a halt as Liza points straight ahead. “Your interview will be right through those double doors. Just let me give you a briefrundown.”
I nod, giving her my undivided attention as she leans against the barewall.
“Okay, so as you know, Antonio Michaels is looking for a new Personal Assistant. He’s insisted he conduct the interviews on his own, and so far, out of maybe, two dozen, he hasn’t been the least bitimpressed.”
She looks at me, puzzled, then in an almost motherly fashion approaches me and pats down a piece of my hair that must look out ofplace.
“Anyhow,” she continues, “just hand Antonio your résumé and let things progress from there. He’s looking for some type of connection. Dottie, his last PA, retired last month. She’s kind of got big shoes to fill because she had the ability to keep Antonio in line. He’s kind of…well, I don’t want to share too much more. It may make yanervous.”
“I’m not nervous. After the morning I had on the Metro, I’m feeling like nothing could beworse.”
“You rode the Metro here this morning?” She checks herwatch.
“Yep. But I got off the train too soon and walked about fourblocks.”
“You did appear to be a bit flustered when you approached my desk. Come on. You’reup.”
She leads the way, closer to the double doors, and I must admit, the anticipation of the unknown hassurfaced.
What will this Antonio guy belike?
Will he have tough questions forme?
Will he scoff at my lack of PAexperience?
We reach the double doors that, incidentally, look a lot larger now than they did ten secondsago.
Liza smiles. “Funny thing,” she says as she slowly turns the knob to open the door, “Antonio also had a jelly-donut-related incident on his way to work this morning. Maybe it’s something you can use as an ice breaker? It may help you connect withhim.”
“Wait, what?” I almost stop in my tracks. “That’s an odd coincidence. But a good enough ice breaker if you ask me,” Isay.
We enter the spacious office, and right away, I can’t help but notice the bay window that overlooks Downtown Los Angeles. The view is breathtaking—I could seriously get used to working in an office likethis.
A tall, dark-haired, slender man in a dark blue suit is facing the large window with his hands securely nestled in the pockets of his perfectly creasedslacks.
“Mr. Michaels, your 9:53 interview is here,” Liza says, then looks to me and mouths the words ‘good luck’ before making a quickexit.
“Just have a seat and I’ll be right with you,” he says, still facing thewindow.
I make my way toward one of the high-back chairs in front of what I assume is hisdesk.
He turns to walk toward the desk and our eyes lock. The look on his face is probably the same look fixed to my own—a look of unfathomable shock, although his is embellished with an impishgrin.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Potty Mouth herself.You’remy 9:53 interview?” saysAntonio Michaels…formally known as the jelly-donut-eating, rude guy from theMetro.
And uh…someone better call in the cavalry; the bad day snowball has officially reached monumental avalanchestatus.
