“Thank you. Some people are so fucking rude aren’t they?” She chuckles.
“This is a job interview—not a sorority. You should have brought your own pen,” the girl who ignored me sneers.
“Oh, so you aren’t deaf?” I ask intentionally. She scoffs and looks back down at her phone.
“Kristen Peters?” A tall woman with a sleek bob dressed in all black has entered the room. Kristen, aka Rude Cunt, stands, her scowl instantly transforming to friendly before our eyes. Her long dark curls sway as she saunters out of the room.
“What a bitch,” I mutter.
“You must be new to this,” the girl who gave me the pen says. She’s beautiful with natural red hair and green eyes and looks like Arielle from the little mermaid. I get up and move into Kristen’s chair so our chatter doesn’t bug the other girls.
“Sort of,” I answer, trying to squash my desperation. I wasn’t nervous before I got here but now I’m a little terrified. I thought this would be easy…show up and pretty much get hired. Alex didn’t tell me about head shots and dressing up and catty model-looking girls treating this like a reality show competition with a million-dollar prize. At least Arielle seems nice. I should probably ask her name instead of referring to her as a Disney creature.
“I’m Madison,” I tell her and she gives me a friendly smile.
“Casey,” she replies and we shake hands.
“If you think of it as an audition it’ll be a lot easier,” she explains as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“I haven’t auditioned since my sixth grade play,” I laugh. She arches a curious brow.
“You’re not in the entertainment industry?” she asks curiously, and I almost think that I walked into the wrong office, or maybe this is the wrong day.
“This is for serving, right?” I ask with a light laugh and she grins.
“Yeah but this is New York. Jobs that pay like this, that you don’t have to work a set schedule for, are usually filled with aspiring models, actors, singers…” She trails off waiting for me to share what I’m aspiring to be.
“I’m a graphic designer. Well, normally,” I tell her.
“Oh, how’d you hear about the job?” she asks, and instead of telling her about Alex I just say my Uber driver told me.
“Oh. Well anyway, with places like this you’re judged more on how you look than skills and experience. Not that you can be an idiot and just walk with a tray, but they want attractive people with good manners.”
“In other words you look nice and put up with rich peoples’ bullshit?” I ask knowingly, and she laughs.
“I just pretend I’m playing a part until I land the right one,” she says with a shrug.
“You’re an actress?”
“Trying to be. Hoping for my name in lights on Broadway one day but in the meantime gigs like this pay the rent. This is one of the best companies to work for in the city. My old roommate’s best night was a thousand bucks.”
“A thousand in one night?” I say, my eyes going wide.
“Yeah, and she wasn’t even that good,” she laughs.
A thousand in a night!
I could work a week and go back with seven grand. I’ve got to get my game face on. I cannot screw this up.
“Holy shit!” I say a little too loud and ignore the judgmental glances that land on me.
“You think all of these girls would be here for minimum wage?” she asks with an amused smile.
“I could really use this type of money. Any tips?”
“Well it depends on who you interview with. My roommate interviewed with a guy named Marcus. She pretty much just flirted with him and said she had a lot of waitress experience, and got the gig. But if it’s a woman named Veronica you might have to put your thinking cap on more. She’s a hard ass; she takes it all super seriously and will give you a real interview.”
Please let me get Marcus!
“Have you waitressed before?”
“My sister owns a catering business so I help her with that,” I lie. Well, sort of lie. I have helped, even if it was more in the way of telling her what’s good and what tastes like shit.
“Well just play it up, stress that you have impeccable customer service skills, and smile. Do you drink wine?”
“Yeah but probably not the kind they’re serving.”
“They don’t need to know that.” She gives me a small grin.
I really like Casey. She’s a breath of fresh air. I haven’t had a new girlfriend since sophomore year of college when I met Parker, but she’s cool. It’d be amazing if we both got the job, but looking around at all the gorgeous girls in the room who probably have waitressed before and actually live in New York, I have a feeling it’s only going to be one of us. And it’s not looking like it’ll be me.
“If I don’t happen to make the cut do you know of any other places like this that are hiring and pay half as much?”
“Don’t be negative, you’ve got this,” she assures me.
The door that Kristen went in opens again but this time it’s a tall guy who’s also wearing black. He looks distinguished but with an artistic edge to him. Early fifties, maybe, with dark thick hair sporting a grey streak.
“Casey McDonald?” he calls. She stands up and flashes him a pageant girl smile.
“Good luck,” she whispers quickly before following the guy out of the room.
After that I’m left alone to my own negative thoughts, which I try to evict. I’m a people person, and best case scenario is I get Marcus and flirt my way through; worst is I get Veronica and look like an idiot. Ten minutes later Kristen comes back out looking super pleased with herself. She looks at me and rolls her eyes before leaving. I fight the urge to give her the middle finger.
A few minutes after Kristen sauntered her way out, Casey does with a wide smile on her face. We lock eyes and she gives me the thumbs up. I do a silent “Yay” for her but before she leaves she comes over to me.
“You’ve got this. It wasn’t bad at all!” That makes me feel better but Casey’s 5’8”, charming, and an actress. I’m 5’6” with a terrible attitude and no idea about vintage wines.
“Did you have Marcus?”
“Nope, so odds are you’ll get him,” she tells me. The man behind the desk sshhuss us.
“Look me up on Facebook,” she whispers before scurrying out.
I wait almost an hour and a half and it’s just me and one other girl left before the woman from earlier comes to the door and calls my name. Damnit, I wanted Marcus. I try to swallow all my nerves before I meet her.
“Follow me,” she says rigidly as soon as I’m on my feet. She doesn’t shake my hand but does hold the door open for me, and I thank her. I notice she’s giving me a once-over.
“Last door on the right.” She nods towards it for me to move forward. I try to remember to keep my head up and back straight as I walk and command myself not to trip on these heels I’m wearing. I turn and enter the office. There’s a window overlooking the city that’s gorgeous.
“I’m Veronica,” she tells me as she takes a seat in front of the breathtaking backdrop.
“Nice to meet you,” I say politely as she gestures for me to sit.
“I looked over your file…you don’t have head shots?” She says it more as a statement than a question.
“No, I’m not in the industry.”
“What do you do then?” she asks bluntly.
I clear my throat. “I’m a freelance graphic designer. I’m in between jobs at the moment.”
“And your address on your ID is in Illinois. Do you live in New York?”
“No, but I’m thinking about it…” I stutter. She folds her arms across her chest.
“I noticed the only reference you have down shares your last name. Are you related?”
Fuck.
“Yes, she’s my sister,” I admit. She lifts a perfectly arched brow.
“Do you have any related professional experience where you did
n’t work under a family member?” she asks curtly. I hold in a breath.
“I don’t but I can tell you my sister is extremely professional and harder on me than any other supervisor I’ve worked for.” She lets out a sigh and I know I have zero chance in hell of landing this job.
“I’ll keep your application on file but I suggest getting some photos and waitress experience under your belt. Until then, I believe the IHOP down the street is hiring.”
My face flushes red. Our eyes meet each other’s and she’s wearing a condescending smile, challenging me with her eyes. I want to tell her to take her job and shove it up her ass after the month I’ve had, but I won’t do that. I hear Melissa’s voice in the back of my mind and I did use her name, though I doubt this snobby bitch and her will ever cross paths. But I promised. I let out a light sigh and smile.
“I’ll take that into consideration. Thank you very much for your time,” I tell her, pushing myself out of my seat and heading towards the door.
“Madison,” she calls and I wonder what other insult she wants to throw at me before I leave. I stop and turn around with a stiff smile.
“You’ve got the job.”
What the hell? Her icy demeanor melts into a warm smile.
“I’m sorry for my rudeness, it’s just if you work with us you have to have a lot more patience—more than most. Sometimes you deal with those who have impeccable etiquette, but there are others whose manners are quite poor.”
That makes sense. I thank God I didn’t fly off the handle, as Melissa calls it.
“That’s fine, as a business owner I know how important it is to remain calm and professional in uncomfortable situations,” I reassure her, and it’s an honest answer that I feel good about.
“Great.” She stands and extends her hand to me.
“Welcome aboard.”
I got it! Thank God!
I’m smiling as I head back to Parker’s. This is the first good thing that’s happened to me with no strings, no baggage, and something I accomplished on my own. Yeah it wasn’t brain surgery but I feel good. My thoughts drift to Alex and a sliver of nerves crawl down my spine. Will I be working with him? He’s drop dead gorgeous, tall, and with a body that I could do things to…but none of that matters. I can’t believe I bumped into him again. It’s like the universe is conspiring to set me the fuck up, but I’m smarter now. Yes, he’s absolutely fuckable and I wish I was my old self who could have sex and not have it be anything else. But since Jackson, I don’t trust myself. My heart is open and exposed after being buried for so long, and I don’t know if it’ll be easier for someone to reach now. Until I get it back under a cement building, no sex and no men. I’m done with sex and men, and sex with sexy men that would undoubtedly get me in more trouble than I need right now. I most likely won’t even see him again; they probably have tons of employees. I miss sex, though. Just sex—not everything else that comes with it.
Fuck men, fuck sex. That’s probably not the best wording but it’s not currently an option. I’m all about getting as much money as I can as quickly as I can. My woman’s intuition may be in shambles but my bank account doesn’t have to be.
Eleven
It’s the first day of orientation.
I have a job working for someone. Well, I’ve always worked for someone but I’ve gotten used to being my own boss. I make my own schedule, decide who I work for and what I’ll do—all the perks of being an entrepreneur. But it feels nice to be on someone else’s payroll, as I haven’t been since my first year after college. No, this job doesn’t have benefits, which Melissa so deliberately hit home when I called her with the good news. She could give Snoop Dog a buzzkill if she wanted to. Still this orientation isn’t like the ones I had when I worked in corporate.
The people here all look like models: beautiful, well groomed, fit. Casey is here and, unfortunately, Kristen. I sort of wish she had interviewed with Victoria. I know for sure she wouldn’t have passed the patience test I had to, but she had Marcus, the manager, who passes those who look the part, so I’m sure her big boobs didn’t hurt. The orientation has been going on for about an hour and I’m already bored out of my mind. It’s pretty much been the managers and supervisors going over the different functions that they handle: wedding receptions, large corporate events, banquets, awards ceremonies, etc. They stress the client is always right and the extension of their clients are the guests. There’s a $100 non-refundable uniform fee which is basically a white and black button-up shirt and black skirt for the girls, and the same shirts for the guys but they get to wear slacks.
It’s stressed we’re always to come film ready, which means impeccably groomed, with short nude or clear nail polish, hair pulled back, and makeup to accentuate our best features. What’s odd to me is that us girls are expected to wear heels, which I don’t have a problem with, but it’s not practical to be carrying around trays of food and pouring liquor. But I’d wear wooden clogs if I can make over $300 a night. What’s cool is they have an app for us to pick up and give away shifts.
They give us examples of their classic menus, one including their wine and alcohol listings.
“I wonder if they’ll let us taste it,” Casey jokes as we go on our first break.
“That’d be the best perk ever,” I admit.
“If there’s a shift you don’t want, at least for the next month, let me know. I’m saving for a wedding,” Casey tells me sheepishly.
“Congratulations! Who’s the lucky guy?” I ask.
“James, my high school sweetheart.”
“How old are you? Or is that a rude question?”
“Twenty-two. I know, sort of young. But when you know you just know.” I push out the memory of Jackson saying something similar to me.
“I knew from the first day I saw him in English class. I know it’s cliché and your first love isn’t your last but for us it’s true.” She’s beaming as she says this, and I wonder if I’ll ever have that bright-eyed just-stepped-out-of-a-fairytale look in my eyes. Then I remind myself I don’t believe in happily ever afters.
“What about you?”
“Single.”
“That’s it? No story?” she giggles.
“One too long to tell on this break,” I chuckle.
When we go back in from break we’re broken into groups of three and of course Kristen gets assigned to our group. She looks as happy about it as I am.
“Hi Kristen,” Casey says with a friendly smile.
“Hey,” she mutters dryly. She acknowledges me with the slight raise of her eyebrow and I match it with a dry sigh. One of the managers calls our group and tells us to follow her for the next stage of the presentation, which is on drinks and mixers. Me and Casey exchange conspiratorial glances. When we enter the next room there is already a group surrounding the large bar. We were in a classroom originally but this feels more like an actual event setting with windows overlooking the city, music playing, and soft lighting. The first group, after some laughing and chatter, start to exit the room and as we approach it’s when I see him. Behind the bar wearing a white t-shirt and Prince Charming smile. I ignore the butterflies in my stomach. Our eyes lock before I’m halfway across the room. I didn’t expect to see him today and I scold the small part of me that’s glad he’s here.
“He is gorgeous,” Kristen purrs, having forgotten that we’re not her friends and she’s only begrudgingly spoken to us.
“That we agree on,” Casey giggles. I swallow the lump in my throat and we all approach.
“Hey ladies I’m Alex,” he says with a panty-dropping smile.
“I’m Kristen,” Kristen interjects, walking ahead of us and landing a spot in the middle of the bar directly in front of him. Me and Casey exchange an exasperated glance. He reaches across the bar to shake her hand and his muscle-wrapped arm flexes, and every muscle inside of me tightens as well.
“Casey,” she tells him cheerfully. I start to say my name and act as if I’m a stranger.
&nb
sp; “Welcome aboard Madison,” he says, his mouth curved into a perfect smile, and I wonder if I’m imagining the flirtation behind his words or if the other girls heard it.
“You know each other?” Kristen interjects and from the way her eyes are narrowed in on me, I guess I’m not imagining it.
“Yes,” I inform her, giving her an enthusiastic smile she can choke on.
Casey gives me a have you done him? look, and I give her a I’m not saying look. It’s funny because even though I haven’t known her long I feel like we’re going to be long-term friends. Kristen scowls at me but it’s just a second before she turns her attention back to Alex.
“I’m looking forward to knowing you too,” Kristen purrs with a schoolgirl giggle, flipping her hair across her shoulder. He gives her an amused smile before his eyes dart to me; I quickly look away. I only looked at him the way I did to make Kristen jealous…that’s what I tell myself, at least.
Alex isn’t just the best looking teacher I’ve ever had, but he’s good. He goes through all the drinks with us, and to all of our delights he lets us taste small samples of them.
“Sometimes shifts open up behind the bar, so it’s a good way to get experience. And I’m sure you ladies can make some major tips and—”
“I’m definitely up for that!” Kristen is volunteering before he can even finish his sentence. I roll my eyes and his own gleam back at me. I don’t know why I’m so irritated by her flirting. I barely even know him, though what I do know is he’s a gentleman for taking me home that night. He’s a seemingly decent human and should be able to detect that she’s a major bitch.
“How long have you been working here?” Casey asks, tasting a sample of a gin drink he made that’s orange and delicious.
“This will be almost two years.”
“Wow, that’s like a decade in gigs,” Kristen adds.
“The owners are good people, and the money is good. I can’t ask for more than that until I get my own thing off the ground.”
Firsts: Book One’s Page 27
