Lady Gouldian

by Read, Calia

  Loudly, I clear my throat. “Have you ever had a job?”

  It’s apparent, from the way her cheeks become red, that she’s embarrassed. Slowly, she shakes her head, but I’m proud of her because she doesn’t look away. “No, I haven’t.”

  “All right.” I lean back in my chair and ask her the same question I ask every girl I interview. “Why do you want this job?”

  Nathalie swallows. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens and closes several times. The words, whatever they may be, rest on her tongue. She simply can’t seem to get them out.

  “Étienne is right. This was a mistake. I should go.”

  “Stay. We’ll finish the interview.”

  Nat freezes, her hands curled around the arm rests. I can tell she’s not completely certain what decision she wants to make. To be honest, I’m not certain what decision I want her to make. But what I want her to do, what I’ve always wanted her to do, is to never question her own confidence.

  She is always buoyant and compassionate to the people around her, but she never puts the same compassion back onto herself. It slips between her fingers before she even has the chance to notice.

  Right now, she needs help with making sure doubt doesn’t leave her as the shell of the woman she once was. I’ll try to assist in that task the best I can.

  “Finish the interview,” I say calmly and quietly. “It’s not necessary to be qualified for this job. Most ladies aren’t, all right?”

  Nat looks at me for several seconds before she finally nods. The breath I didn’t know I was holding escapes me.

  “Now. Where were we?” I give her a polite smile and lace my fingers together on top of my desk. “I believe I asked why you wanted this job?”

  Nat appears just as unsure as the first time I asked the question, but she doesn’t try to flee, although she might want to. She bravely meets my gaze and speaks, “I could tell you I am a hard worker, but that would be a lie. I haven’t had to work very hard in my life. The truth is I need somethin’, anythin’ to keep me engaged. I have nothin’ to lose.” At that heartbreaking remark, she gives a small smirk. “But I guess you could say I have everything to gain because I’ll be willing and eager to learn whatever you show me.”

  When she finishes speaking, she exhales loudly as though she finished a race.

  I want to do far more than hire her. What I most want to do is reach across the table and hug her. Tell her that was one of the most honest, if not unique, answers I’ve ever been given. And it broke my heart to hear it.

  I sit forward, my chair squeaking beneath my weight. I stare at my laced fingers before I flick my gaze to hers. “Very well. I believe that’s all I have.” As I stand, I see the crestfallen look on Nat’s face. I gesture to my closed door. “We’ll speak with the floor manager and see what she thinks of you.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nathalie

  The two of us walk down to the first floor where the floor manager is. Asa points to closed doors, calling out this name and that. I nod and try my hardest to pay attention, but my mind cannot keep up.

  There’s too much to process.

  For starters, I feel like a fool. Did I truly waltz in here with Serene, believing I would get a job? In my inexperienced mind, it was that simple. It was far more complicated than I imagined. When Serene and I walked into the building earlier, I was so focused on what I would say to Asa when I reached his office, I merely gave the ladies on the first floor a passing glance. Standing before them now, I take them in with wide eyes. To my left and right, switchboard units cover the walls as well as desks with an array of switches extending to the operator. All the ladies sit in what appear to be uncomfortable stools. The women wear headsets, and the way they swiftly move the cords from one place to the other is intimidating. I watch their mouths move, but the room maintains a jarring quietness.

  I’m beginning to doubt myself again. Can I do this?

  Étienne and Serene stand in the hallway. Serene leans against the wall, while my brother paces in front of her as though he’s been waiting for me for hours. Once Étienne spots me and Asa, he strides over, just as angry as he was when he left Asa’s office. “Are you finished?”

  “No, I wanted to show her around the first floor and introduce her to the floor supervisor,” Asa replies.

  “Does that mean she’s hired?” Étienne asks.

  “I did not say that,” Asa replies smoothly.

  Serene places a hand on my brother’s arm. “Let him show her around. We can wait outside.” Étienne looks at his wife as though the suggestion is ludicrous. “Nat’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”

  At that, Étienne grunts and glances at me. Finally, he relents and sighs. “You heard Serene. We’ll be outside waitin’ for you.”

  I watch as Serene has to nearly push Étienne out of the front door. Once they’re gone, I turn to Asa, and with my fingers linked in front of me, I wait for what comes next.

  Asa scans the room with a sharp eye. From the set of his shoulders, I can tell this is where he feels most comfortable. Everyone in the room knows it too. The operators move a bit faster, and the ladies that studiously watch them pace the floor with quicker strides.

  “Can you do this, Nat?” Asa asks, never taking his eyes off the room.

  I swallow loudly, not bothering to look at the ladies. It will simply make me question myself. “Yes.”

  Asa turns to me and arches a brow. Doubt lingers in his brown eyes. He crosses his arms and faces the room, his shoulder touching mine. “I’m callin’ over one of my floor managers, Nat. Do not give her a reason to question you. Be confident and quick with your answers. Show her you are the girl for the job.”

  I didn’t expect Asa to give me advice or to say such encouraging words. Before I can say thank you, Asa crooks his finger and a stern woman standing on the opposite side of the room immediately strides toward us. As she does, her eyes scan the telephone operators as though she’s a teacher administering a test. With her hair severely pulled back in a bun, an unsmiling face, and bland clothes, she looks more like a mortician than anything else.

  The floor manager stands before us, with a clipboard in hand, and severely regards me. She reminds me of my grandma Livingston.

  “I would like you to meet Ms. Louise West. She is the chief operator and looks over the ladies workin’ on the floor.”

  “Hello,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  The only acknowledgment I get from Louise is a slight dip of her head.

  “Speak,” she demands.

  I veer back, slightly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

  “Speak slowly and carefully for me.”

  I look at Asa. Has this woman gone mad? He remains there, with his hands crossed in front of him, as though this is a perfectly normal inquiry.

  Reluctantly, I turn my attention back to Louise and fulfill her unusual request. “My name is Nathalie Claiborne.”

  Several seconds go by before she nods. “Very well. No need for elocution training, but your dialect is prominent.”

  “This is Charleston. Everyone’s dialect is prominent,” Asa murmurs under his breath. Even so, Louise still manages to hear him.

  She resumes looking at her clipboard, jotting things down that I’m certain are related to me. What could she possibly have to say?

  I understand I have no experience. Or have never worked for that matter, but Louise is inspecting me as though I’m a vagabond, begging for food. The last time someone regarded me in such a manner was in Savannah. I never wanted to be looked at that way again.

  Louise makes a circle around me. Her thorough inspection doesn’t stop for one second. “You’re not too tall. That’s good.” She writes something and then looks at me for a fleeting second. “Of course, we’ll need your exact height.”

  “We will?” I blurt.

  Immediately, Louise looks perturbed by my question. “Yes, we will. Our ladies cannot be under five feet tall.”

  My word. That
is a bit excessive. I keep my lips closed and nod. It seems like the wise thing to do.

  “Extend your arms out.”

  I do as she says, and Louise makes another circle around me. “Why is this a requirement?”

  “Because your arms need to be long enough to reach the top row of lines. If you struggle to reach the lines, you will be delayed. Delays means less calls answered, and we cannot have that.” She stops in front of me and looks between my arms, then writes something down, appearing less than impressed before she nods. “That will do.”

  Before I can even lower my arms to my sides, she fires off her next question, “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight?” Somehow my answer comes out as a question.

  Louise clucks her tongue. “I would prefer younger. Are you married?”

  My mouth opens, preparing to tell her I’m widowed, when Asa says, “No, she isn’t.”

  In unison, Louise and I turn to look at him. His tone was brusque, offering no room for argument.

  Louise regards the two of us uncertainly, as though maybe she should direct all her questions to Asa instead of me.

  “I’m not married,” I confirm.

  After a beat of silence, she looks back at her clipboard. Apparently, my answer appeased her.

  “There’s a girl who quit on me this morning. Work was not a priority for her, but if it is for you, then the job is yours.”

  I cannot believe it.

  Very rarely do I set my mind to something and achieve it. But I did it.

  I actually did it.

  I may not need this job in the way most people do. But it’s deep inside me that’s barren, desperate for support.

  “I will make the job my priority,” I say with as much conviction as possible.

  Louise is unmoved, as though she has heard these words before. “Minimum wage is fifteen dollars a week. If you work overtime, you will be compensated, but the maximum you can make in one day is four dollars.” She arches a thin brow. “Are you okay with that?”

  Fifteen dollars? Only fifteen dollars? Just fifteen minutes on the first floor, watching the women work the switchboards, and I could tell they deserved more than that. I can’t very well say that though. It would only highlight how ignorant and inexperienced I am to the working world. I don’t need Louise looking down on me anymore than she already does.

  “Fifteen dollars sounds wonderful,” I reply.

  At that, Louise lifts both brows. All right. Perhaps wonderful wasn’t the best word, but I wanted Louise to know the lack of money won’t deter me from this job. Right now, nothing will.

  “Good. You start tomorrow at eight in the morning, and not a minute after. Do not wear bold colors. They are unacceptable. Dresses must be blue or black. The same applies to skirts. Shirt waists must be white. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She gives me a nod, furiously writing on her clipboard, and without a good bye, Louise brusquely walks away. Promptly, she begins tapping girls on their shoulders. That seems to be all it takes before they move the lines a bit faster and sit up a bit straighter.

  I swallow at the indisputable power Louise has over the ladies and quickly look at the floor. I can’t think about what’s in store for me. I want to celebrate my accomplishment.

  So I turn to the person next to me and give him a bright smile. I couldn’t stop this smile even if I wanted to.

  Asa stares at me for several seconds with the most peculiar expression on his face. The corner of his mouth curves up, but his brows have a small furrow between them. It’s as though someone told him a riddle in a different language and he’s translating it in his head.

  He’s looked at me this way many, many times before. It’s as though he doesn’t know how to understand happiness. The times before, my heart seized with excitement. But now, it clenches in warning.

  Don’t do it, Nathalie. You cannot fix Asa. He’s unattainable.

  “I did it,” I whisper gleefully, mindful of all the ladies in the room.

  Asa continues to stare at me, his eyes searching mine, before he finally nods. Those puppy dog eyes pull down at the corners as he smiles ever so slightly. He dips his head. “You did. Congratulations. You are officially a Hello Girl.”

  He holds his hand out between us. I look at it as an olive branch. Maybe, just maybe, Asa and I can exist together without the past tensions lingering between us. Maybe we can start anew.

  My hand slips into his, and the second his skin touches mine, heat shoots up my arm and throughout my body. In those few seconds Asa’s palm is against mine, I see my first dance with him, first kiss, walking through darken corridors to meet with him. I hear gasps and moans against the rasp of our skin. I try to disengage, but Asa tightens his grip. The pad of his thumb brushing against the top of my knuckles. Loudly, I suck in a sharp breath and meet Asa’s gaze. Solemnly he stares at me, and I know memories haunt him just as much as me.

  Then, abruptly, he drops my hand. I almost lose my balance and have to stop my body from sagging forward. Straightening my shoulders, I place a friendly smile on my face and link my hands behind my back. “Thank you, I look forward to workin’ here.”

  Asa merely nods. It doesn’t slip my attention that at his side, he continues to flex the hand that held mine.

  I had hoped that we could be friendly, but after that handshake, I’m not certain it’s possible.

  We part ways, and I all too happily hurry toward the front doors. The entire time I can feel Asa staring at me. But I did it! I got the job. I try my best to conceal my smile. However, once I’m outdoors, I look at the sky and grin widely.

  I look at the sidewalk and see Étienne and Serene, eagerly waiting.

  “Well?”

  I nod. “I got the job.”

  Serene jumps up and down, clapping her hands. I hurry down the steps to happily mimic her actions. While we celebrate, Étienne stands there, shaking his head. We finish our squealing and Serene looks at him. “This is good, Étienne.”

  “Yes, yes,” he tries to appear indifferent, but I see the approval in his gaze. “Celebrate your victory today, Nat. You’re in for quite a change.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Nathalie

  The next morning, I’m dressed and sitting in the dining room with a full plate of food in front of me. The only thing I’ve touched is the coffee.

  My stomach is in knots, and just when I calm myself, there’s a ruckus from the kitchen that jolts me. My heart races, nearly lodging in my throat.

  I don’t know how long I sit there, but soon, I hear footsteps and then Livingston strides into the dining room. He’s busy adjusting the lapels of his jacket that, at first, he doesn’t notice me. Once he lifts his head, his eyes widen and his back almost slams into the wall. “God, Nathalie! How long have you been there?”

  I lift a shoulder. “An hour.”

  He regains his dignity by clearing his throat and striding across the room with a confidence that only few can possess. Livingston may be engaged to my best friend, but his brazen, charming attitude has remained. He simply devotes all his charisma to Rainey.

  Livingston takes the seat across from me. “You must be excited for your new job.”

  “And nervous.”

  He gives me a once over as a servant comes in with a full plate of breakfast in one hand. In the other is a cup and saucer filled with coffee. It’s my mamie’s Meissen china set. I haven’t seen that in years. Probably since I was a child. My heart gives a lurch at seeing the intricate pattern of flowers wrapped around the cup and saucer.

  “It’s the first day. Of course, you’re nervous.”

  I watch Livingston eat, and realize it is rather early for him to be up. “Where are you goin’?”

  “Where I’ve been goin’ for the past month.” He takes a moment to chew his food and points the tip of his fork at me. “To the estate I’m buildin’ for Rainey and me.”

  “Wow.”

  “I want the home to be f
inished soon after we’re married, but I don’t know if that’s possible. The builder said we still need…”

  I watch my brother in a daze as he lists everything that needs to be done. He doesn’t seem to belabor all the items he needs to finish, rather Livingston seems excited.

  I take a sip of my coffee and regard him closely. “You should do this.”

  Livingston appears taken aback by my comment. “Pardon?”

  “You should build homes for a livin’.” I lean in, eyes alight. “You seem to really enjoy what you’re doin’ right now.”

  Livingston doesn’t rebuff my comment, but he also doesn’t agree either. He takes a long sip of coffee before he leans back in his chair. “I’ve given it some thought.”

  “Have you?”

  “Of course. I would like to design homes, and my company name would be LAL Corporation.”

  Immediately, I grin. “LAL Corporation. Seems reasonable and not at all close to Étienne’s company.”

  Livingston winks. “How else can I drive him mad? I have begun to get my life together. I have to get creative these days.”

  “Well, if I someday ever need to build a home, I will come to you.”

  “And I will be happy to do the job.”

  “Speakin’ of job… I need you to take me to mine and pick me up.” I try to sound assertive, but it comes out almost as a question.

  Livingston groans. “I didn’t know I was goin’ to be your chauffeur.”

  “I can walk,” I offer, although as I say those words, I can feel the blisters forming on the backs of my feet.

  He shakes his head. “No, no. If Étienne finds out you were walkin’ to and from work, I’ll never make it to my weddin’ alive. I’ll take you.” Livingston takes a sip of his coffee and then his eyes widen, as though something has just occurred to him. “Asa works there, right? Why doesn’t he take you?”

  I remain composed, but my hand curls around the fork so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t bend. “I don’t think that would be … best.”

  “Ah.” Livingston nods, his eyes fill with understanding. “Because you interrupted his weddin’?”