“Heh, yeah, absolutely,” I said. “Being too early is almost as rude as being late.”
“I’ve got the conference room blocked off for the hour, it’s just this way.”
I followed Allison through another frosted glass door and into the spacious office. There were individual offices along the wall with windows showing sprawling views of Fort Perth and the flat New Mexico terrain beyond. A few men and women glanced up at us as we passed, but most were on calls or bent over their computer keyboards, too busy to look up. Despite that, the vibe of the office seemed really relaxed. Lots of people were wearing jeans, including Allison. I wondered if it was always that way, or if it was because today was a Friday.
“Here we are,” Allison said, gesturing to a conference room. “Some other members of the team might hop in if they get a chance, but for now it’s just us. What’s that you’re carrying?”
“It’s my resume, a cover letter, and several references,” I said, handing her the folder. She took it and didn’t cut her finger open, I saw with relief.
“So well-prepared!” she said approvingly. “My grandson is nine and just joined the Boy Scouts, so he’s learning all about being prepared. I also like paper copies. Maybe I’m showing my age, but sometimes I get sick of reading off a screen! You can’t beat good old fashioned ink and paper. Sorry, I’m rambling. I do that sometimes. Welcome to NMCF. Do you know about what we do here?”
“I did some research,” I said.
She continued speaking as if I hadn’t said anything. “We’re a non-profit that manages charitable donations for wealthy individuals and estates. For example, a well-known businessman in Albuquerque passed away last month—very sad, although he was 95, so it isn’ttoosad. He left half his estate to his children, and the other half was donated to us. He was passionate about animals, so we will donate a portion of his wealth to animal-related charities every year. That’s not to say all of our donors are deceased. Far from it! In fact, our largest donor is very much alive—I’m sure you’ll hear all aboutherif you take the job.” She gave me a look that implied this donor was a lot of work.
“Maybe you can help me understand something,” I said. “Why wouldn’t they just donate their money directly to a charity? Why go through a foundation like yours? I know that’s probably a dumb question.”
“Not dumb at all!” she said happily. “Donors give us their money, and we invest it. We earn interest, dividends, and general market growth on their money. That way their funds can persist for years and years, and continue doling out grants to all the charities they support. That’s so much better than a one-time donation to a charity.”
“Oh, I think I understand,” I replied.
“The role we’re hiring for is a grants administrator. Every week, we send out grants to various charities and organizations based on our donors’ wishes. These grants have to be verified, processed, and then mailed out. Nothing too technical! This is such a wonderful environment to work in, too. The CEO, Mr. Cunningham, is such a wonderful man. So is his son August, the CFO. We have casual Fridays, and breakfast tacos delivered to the office at least once a week. We have reduced hours in the summer too—we leave by 3:00.”
I smiled and nodded along. Allison seemed to like to talk. When was she going to ask about me?
“You’re making it sound like I already have the job, and you’re trying to convincemeto work here,” I joked.
Allison gave a grandmotherly chuckle. “Well, we do want people to know how nice it is to work here! There are two other candidates applying for the position. We already met with them this week, so you’re the last interview.” She leaned forward. “We’ve been backed up since the last grants administrator left, so we’re hoping to fill the position as soon as possible. August wanted to extend an offer to the man who interviewed on Tuesday, but I insisted we be thorough!”
I swallowed heavily and forced a smile. “I’m glad you did. I have a lot of experience when it comes to…”
I trailed off as the door to the conference room opened next to me and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside. I couldn’t help but gawk. He had sandy-blond hair and a strong jaw. He was wearing a navy button-down with the neck unbuttoned, and tucked into jeans. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing tan forearms with veins that popped out. He brought with him a spicy, understated scent. Just the right amount of expensive cologne.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said to Allison in a deep rumble that vibrated across the air and into my breastbone. “You-know-who had an emergency request with one of her grants. Which turned out to be an excuse to get me to go to brunch with her.”
“She likes you,” Allison teased.
“Don’t remind me.” The newcomer finally seemed to notice me, and he did a double-take. My breath caught in my throat: he had the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen in my life. Like round sapphires behind the tan planes of his face.
“Michael Bauer. Pleased to meet you.” His handshake was strong without trying too hard, and his blue gaze lingered on me just a heartbeat longer than normal. Was it my imagination?
“Michael is our donor relations manager,” Allison explained. “The grants administrator position will work closely with him.”
I’d like to work very closely with him.
I gave myself a mental reprimand. I was here for a job interview, not to ogle my potential coworkers.
“You’ll have big shoes to fill. Our last grants administrator was here for two decades.” He settled into the seat across the conference desk and picked up my resume from the stack of papers. “Let’s see, Virginia Hanover…”
“Please, call me Ginny.”
“Are you from Virginia originally? The state, that is.”
“My mom was,” I replied. “She grew up in Charlottesville.”
He tilted his head to one side and gave me a small smile. Somehow, that cranked up his attractiveness to a Level 11. “Charlottesville is my favorite city in the world. I went to the University of Virginia.”
“That’s great!” I said. “I got in to UVA too.”