“Good morning.May I speak with Goldie Berry?”
Jerking off my pillow, I peel the eyemask from my face and blink at the phone screen a few times, my newly awake brain scrambling to calibrate. I answered before I was fully awake, which is always a mistake. I blink a few times at the long number on the screen. Jesus, how many digits are there?
I clear my throat, forcing the most “hell yeah, I’ve been awake for hours on end, and you most certainly did not just wake my lazy ass up” voiceever. “Good morning, this is Goldie Berry. May I ask who's calling?”
“Good morning, Goldie. This is Ms. Laws from Gonzo Family Auto calling in regards to the interview last week.”
Thrashing in the covers to get my legs free, I finally manage to stumble out of bed. Padding my way down the hall, I push my hair off my greasy face as I make my way to the kitchen. “Good morning. Yes, how are you? Great to hear from you,” I smile as I squint at the green digital clock on my old oven. Shit! It’s 9 am. I haven’t slept in until nine in the morning since I was a teenager.
What is with me?!
“I’m calling with what I hope is good news, Goldie,” Ms. Laws says, and the tone of her voice has me spinning around, gripping the countertop behind me.
“Is that right?” I ask, hope springing up in my belly, clogging my throat. I had no idea I wanted this job so badly until thisexactmoment.
“The job is yours, that is, of course, if you’re willing to make the switch from Public Relations to Human Resources.” She pauses, presumably to let me calibrate, and I pump a fist in the air, silently chanting, “fuck yes!”
I clear my throat. “Yes, I would love to make that switch, and I would love for Gonzo Auto to be where I start my new journey.” Perfect bullshit answer. Except… I’m so used to bullshitting and telling people what they want to hear that this answer catches me off guard because…I think I actually mean it.
“Wonderful. I have to notify the other candidates, and of course, we have loads of paperwork to do, but…” she trails off, and I hear keys being typed. “How about we get all the preliminary paperwork and drug testing done next week? Hmm?”
“Sure; what day were you thinking?” I ask from habit, knowing full well there is literally nothing on my schedule except getting my vagina waxed.
And my asshole now, too, apparently after last night.
“How does Thursday look for you?” she asks.
“Hmm,” I tap my chin thoughtfully while I flip through an invisible calendar. “Thursday works,” I respond after a moment.
“Great. Let’s start at 9. You may be here for a few hours. The paperwork is absolutely grueling, and then we’ve got to get you keys, a badge, and all that.” She types madly at her keyboard as my excitement begins to bloom. Holy shit. I really got this job.
I moved to Oakcreek feeling like a damaged fool. And now I’ve got a little place, a new job, and… well, that’s all I need for now. And hell, I’m gonna celebrate the hell outta this because if you’d have asked me a few months ago where I saw myself today, it wouldn’t be starting a new job as a manageranywhere.
“Thank you so much for this opportunity; I will do everything in my power to grow, learn, and adapt to the culture at GFA and keep the employees happy,” I tell her, meaning those words more than I ever meant any spin session with the Brutes. Ever.
She laughs. “Oh, Goldie, I’m sure you will. That’s why I chose you. I felt your energy in the office, and your resume spoke volumes as to your capabilities.” She hums a second, and it’s the way her tone drops a little when she does that gives me pause.
“Was there anything else?” I ask, wanting to end on a high note.
“Well, I wasn’t quite able to confirm you were with the Brutes. Contacting the team representatives has proven tricky.”
Fuck. Fuck, why did I not consider this would happen? Of course, the Brutes are going to deny my existence. They’ve probably wiped me from security footage and secured those little Men In Black wands to wave in everyone’s faces, too.
“Well,” I start with confidence because if this job is contingent upon my last, how I carry myself now matters more than ever. I’m so tired of wearing a facade. I didn’t know how heavy it was until this weekend when I just… stopped wearing it. I don’t want to put it back on.
“I’d be more than happy to reach out to someone and make sure you make the contact you need.” I chuckle a little before saying passively, “the organization is less than organized. Not making contact doesn’t surprise me.”
She laughs, too. “I understand. Sure, let me know who I can contact, and I’ll go ahead and get started on that before we meet next week. You can email me the point of contact once you get it. My email address is on the business card I gave you.”
“Great,” I smile, full of panic. “I’ll be in touch. And thank you again, Ms. Laws, for selecting me.”
“Goodbye Goldie. We’ll talk soon.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck,fuck me sideways.
I do not want to speak to anyone from the Brutes ever again.
But I need this job.