“You are stunning, Angelica,” I said while I watched her straighten her clothes.
She looked at me, smiled, winked, and said, “Happy birthday, Max. This is the best I could manage at such short notice.”
Well, fuck! If this is what you can manage at short notice, woman, then I don’t know if I can handle a well-thought-out birthday gift.
3
ANGEL
You’ve got this, Angel, I told myself while I walked nervously to the elevator. No time like the present to start working off the student loan I’d racked up. But I’d finally done it. I had my master’s degree in business law, and no one could ever take that away from me.
Of the three interviews I’d had, the one with Mikhailov Imports and Exports was the job I wanted most. The imports and exports company was amongst the most successful of its kind, had a good track record, and so if I cut the mustard, I’d be sitting pretty, financially.
I’d decided on a professional look, so I dressed the part of a kickass lawyer. According to mom, there was no harm in a bit of self-promotion. She’d insisted on taking me shopping for a new outfit, which, knowing Mom, was absolutely something I’d anticipated. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for better folks. Which was ironic, as they weren’t my biological parents, but rather my adoptive ones. I guess I was one of the lucky ones.
The melodious ping of the elevator bell snapped me out of my head. I took a deep breath to steel my nerves and stepped into the pristine, steel box, eternally grateful for the lack of pesky elevator music. The last thing I needed was some lame-ass pan flute tune doing an annoying loop in my head whilst I tried to focus on my interviewer. Music did that with me–or did I do that with music?
I pushed the button and before long the doors opened on the top floor of the office building. I walked straight ahead to the reception desk.
“Good morning,” a very pretty middle-aged woman greeted me.
“Hi. I’m Angelica Harris. I have an appointment with HR.”
“Hello, Angelica. I’m Yvonne. Welcome. Yes, they’re running a few minutes behind. Can I offer you coffee or tea while you wait? It shouldn’t be more than ten minutes or so.”
“That’s very kind of you, thanks, Yvonne, but I’m okay.”
“Please, have a seat. Relax,” she said with a smile and pointed to a row of leather chairs.
“Thanks.”
Good start. A friendly face, plush furniture. I didn’t mind a short wait. It allowed me time to gather my thoughts. I was far away when Yvonne came over to me and said my name.
“They’re ready for you, Angelica.”
They? How many recruiters was I about to face? Interviews were a nightmare at the best of times. I didn’t need a crowd.
Yvonne showed me to an office. She opened the door, and I went inside.
“Good luck,” she whispered.
“Thanks,” I whispered back.
A man and a woman were seated at a large table in the center of the room. They looked up when I entered. The man spoke first.
“Hi, Angelica. Please, come in. I’m Adam and this is Moira.”
We said our greetings after which I sat down and poised myself for the interview. Halfway through the process–which was going swimmingly–the door behind me opened. Moira looked up and smiled.
“Oh, good. You made it,” she said.
“Yeah, I had a gap so I thought I’d pop in and meet the new candidate,” the voice answered.
The man’s voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. It was only when he came into view that I realized who he was. F.U.C.K!
“Hi, Max,” Adam said. “This is Angelica Harris. Angelica, allow me to introduce you to Maxim Mikhailov–our boss and chief whip around here.”
I swallowed hard.