“I believe I possess all of that,” I say with confidence.
I did launch a statewide campaign for the party supplies company, but it never reached its full potential. The company’s owner was near retirement age and decided to sell out to a competitor who already had a full staff in place.
“I have a few more candidates to meet with,” she says softly. “I’ll call you by the end of the week to let you know.”
I’ve had enough interviews recently to know that although it doesn’t qualify as a brush-off, it’s not a job offer either.
I move to stand. “Thank you for your time.”
She looks up from where she’s sitting behind her glass desk. “Thanks for coming in, Callie. Maybe I’ll see you again soon.”
Or maybe not.
* * *
An hour later,I step off the elevator and pause because I spot Mrs. Sweeney on her tiptoes with her face mere inches from my apartment door.
From this angle, it almost looks like she’s trying to see into my apartment through the peephole, but it doesn’t work that way.
I know because I tried that myself once to make sure that my annoying neighbor couldn’t see in.
It was after he’d pounded on my door one Saturday afternoon. I wasn’t in the mood for his sugar-borrowing antics, so I never opened the door.
I did peer through the peephole as he was knocking incessantly. The sight that greeted me sent me stumbling back a few steps. He had one of his eyes pressed against the peephole.
It was both alluring and alarming. I felt as though I was in the middle of a horror movie where the villain is literally drop-dead gorgeous.
The sound of my heels clicking on the floor lures Mrs. Sweeney’s gaze in my direction. A blush settles over her cheeks as she steps back from my door.
“Calliope,” she calls out as I approach her. “You look like you just came from another job interview.”
My gaze skims her face before it lands on what looks like a yellow sticky note on my door. “I did.”
On any other day, she’d be asking me twenty questions about the potential job, but today that’s not happening. She glances at the sticky note. “It looks like someone left a message for you.”
I move around her to pluck the note from the door before I read the masculine handwriting.
If you want a lesson in upselling, you know where to find me.
“Is that from a friend of yours?”Mrs. Sweeney asks in a tentative tone.
“No,” I answer honestly. “An enemy.”
A nervous laugh stutters out of her. “You know what they say about keeping your enemies close.”
“I think it’s more important to keep friends close,” I say, noticing the pink tracksuit she’s wearing and the sneakers on her feet. “Do you want to go for a walk in Central Park? I can change my clothes in no time flat.”
I’m dying to get out of this blue pencil skirt and matching blouse. My feet are screaming for a break from the three-inch heels I’m wearing.
Her face lights up. “I’ll never turn down an opportunity to get some fresh air.”
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” I tell her as I unlock my door. “Do you want to come in and wait for me?”
“Meet me in the lobby when you’re ready,” she calls out as she heads toward her apartment. “I’m going to get my secret weapon in case we run into your enemy.”
I glance over my shoulder. “What’s your secret weapon?”
“I carry a mini air horn in my fanny pack.” She winks. “I haven’t had to use it yet, but a girl should always be prepared.”