| |
I pulled at the hem of the black satin tank top, studying myself in the mirror as I wore the outfit that Charlotte had bought me for this very interview. It felt weird to finally put it on three months later, but I prayed that it still had some of her good luck vibes hidden somewhere in it because I needed all that I could get today.
I had been back in San Francisco for almost two weeks, and of course, it was just my luck that they would schedule my interview for Friday afternoon, the weekend of Lily’s birthday party on the beach in New Jersey. Since I hadn’t been working, I couldn’t afford to fly back for it, especially during a holiday weekend.
Lily had cried on the phone when I told her that I wasn’t going to be able to come after all, and I felt like shit for it. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was also heavily swayed by my firm determination to walk away from them before she got any more attached than she already had.
I glanced at the clock, confirming that I only had twenty minutes to finish getting ready and get out the door before I was late for the interview. The last thing that I wanted to do was make a bad impression by being late, so I quickly swiped my lips with a light peach-colored lip gloss and tossed it into my purse before leaving.
My anxiety was so bad that my entire body felt like it was covered in sweat. It wasn’t hot out, especially compared to the weather we had endured on our trip, so it had to be my nerves. I pulled into the parking lot and found a spot up front, in the shade. I took one last look in the mirror before I got out and walked into the interview that could change my life.
When I got to the lobby, I felt sickened by the number of people filling the chairs in the waiting room, all there to interview. I knew that it wasn’t for another position because I had been researching everything I could about the company to prepare for today and hadn’t seen any other openings. That meant that I had to be at my absolute best today and work hard to impress them.
They were running late and finally called me back twenty minutes after the scheduled time. I walked into the large boardroom, my stomach tightening as I looked around at the different faces staring at me and sizing me up based on physical appearance alone. I knew that group interviews were common, but I hadn’t expected to meet with ten people at one time. A handful of them were easily recognizable from my recent searches and served on the board of directors or were in upper management. Then my eyes landed on the man of the hour, Mr. Henry Crawford, the man whose job I was here to steal.
“Ms. Monroe, please have a seat,” a woman who looked like she was in her late thirties said, extending her hand to the only empty chair at the table.
I tried to smile but wasn’t sure if it was coming across as pleasant or if it looked more like a snarl. My body was so rigid that my facial muscles couldn’t relax enough to focus on the task.
Laid out in front of each person on the large mahogany table was a copy of my resume, a notepad, and a pen. It felt so serious and tense in the room as they studied me. I squirmed under the heavy gazes as I waited for someone to start.
Finally, the woman who had asked me to sit down began asking some general questions, which felt easy enough to answer. They weren’t too personal, but I had no idea what to expect next.
Once she was done, the interview moved to Mr. Crawford, who sat at the head of the table, holding a pen between his hands with just the tips of his pointer fingers.
“Why do you want to work at BayView Advertising?” he asked, looking away from the pen to make eye contact.
I swallowed hard. I hated these types of questions and hoped that there wouldn’t be many more. The worst thing to try to answer was where do you see yourself in five years?
“I’ve worked in creative marketing for most of my career. It’s what I know and love. I think that my knowledge and expertise are what this position needs. My passion and drive are what will make me succeed.”
He smirked at my response, and I wondered if he was already ruling me out. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, hoping the next question would be better and not so personal.
A few of the board members jumped in and asked me questions related directly to my experience and focused on the skills I was eager to discuss. I was finally starting to feel better about the interview. This was what I had planned for, what I had spent the last two weeks preparing myself for. If I could focus on what I’ve already done, I could impress them with what I could do for their company if given the Creative Marketing Director position.
Just when I thought we were finished, Mr. Crawford lowered his glasses and peered at me over them.
“Ms. Monroe, where do you see yourself in the next five years?” he asked, drawing everyone’s attention to him.
I imagined myself on the beach in New Jersey with John and Lily, laughing and building sandcastles. As quickly as the thought rushed into my mind, I forced it back out, reminding myself that those days were over. I cleared my throat as subtly as possible and answered.
“I see myself excelling as the creative marketing director for BayView Advertising.”
He smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, it was sad, as if he was disappointed that I hadn’t said something he was expecting instead. He looked down and studied my resume for a moment before looking up at me.
“Where do you see your personal life in five years?” he asked with a heavy emphasis on personal.
“I’m not sure that I understand what you’re asking. My job is very important to me, and I’m willing to dedicate the time needed to do this job. I don’t have any personal commitments that would interfere if that’s what the concern is.”
Did he assume that I wasn’t serious about this job because there was a small gap of time between when I had been laid off at my last job? There would have been a history of me applying for the creative marketing manager position in April, which would confirm that I had been actively looking right after I was let go.
“Being the creative marketing director for BayView means that a lot of your time will be spent here. There are times when you’ll work long hours—late evenings, possibly weekends, and the occasional holiday. This job can be as demanding as you let it be, and I think it’s important to think about where you see yourself five years down the line, so you have an idea of whether this job is the right fit for you. I would hate for someone so young and ambitious to be tied down to a job that keeps her from living the life she envisions for herself. Maybe something to consider before you make any quick decisions.”
My jaw dropped slightly as I felt taken aback by his words. It was like he had somehow been inside my head and knew what I was thinking about when he first asked me. Was I that transparent?
I didn’t say anything. I just waited for the interview to be over and left. Once I was outside, I took a deep breath and replayed what had just happened in my head as I got into my car. I was almost back at John’s house when my phone rang. I parked in the driveway and climbed out, answering Alice’s call on my way inside the house.
“Hey,” I said, wondering if she was calling to try to convince me to come to New Jersey for Lily’s birthday. It was so last minute, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I kicked off my heels and sat down on the couch. “What’s up?”
“I was calling to see how the interview went,” she said excitedly. There was a lot of background noise behind her, and I wondered where she was since everything around them is usually calm and quiet.
“It seems like it went well. I won’t know anything for a week or two until after they’ve completed all of their interviews.”
“Wow, that seems like a lot of people.”
“I agree. I’m not sure how many people have applied for the position, but at least twenty people were waiting before me, and probably fifteen more who were still in the lobby when I left.”
“Well, if it’s meant to be, you’ll get it.”
I loved that she felt so calm about it when I felt on pins and needles, wondering if I would have better odds at winning the lottery.
“What are your plans for dinner?” she asked, cutting the silence that had fallen between us.
I glanced down at my watch. It was already after five, and I hadn’t even thought about it. I wasn’t in the mood to cook, which meant that I would order pizza and call it a night.
“I’m not sure, probably just make a salad or something,” I fibbed, feeling guilty for my pizza obsession.
“Well, I’m sure the salad will go great with the pizza you’re about to order,” she teased, laughing loudly in my ear. I pulled the phone away and cringed from the noise.
“How did you know?” I joked, laughing along with her.
“Because I know you so well. But I think you should do something better than pizza tonight. You should go celebrate your interview and treat yourself to something nice.”
I groaned and closed my eyes as I leaned against the couch. I was too much of an introvert to go to a restaurant on my own—there was no way that I was going to do that. So what if I preferred the company of the fictional characters on tv to real people? It wasn’t like I had any friends that I could call and invite out to dinner.
“Pizza is nice,” I countered. “I can stay home, in my pajamas, eat my pizza, and drink a glass of wine without having to deal with anyone.”
“Or you could go get changed and meet us outside in twenty minutes, and we can all go grab dinner together.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. What did she just say?
“What are you talking about? You guys are in New Jersey, getting ready for Lily’s birthday party on the beach tomorrow.”
“Well, about that. Lily decided that she didn’t really care which beach she had her party on, so we all hopped on a plane and flew back to San Francisco so you could be there for her party. We were getting our luggage when I called you.”
My stomach knotted in a mixture of happiness and stress. Why didn’t John tell me that they were coming when we talked the other day? A little bit of a heads up would have been nice given that I hadn’t cleaned up in a few days and was still working on Lily’s birthday present that was scattered across the coffee table.
“Twenty minutes?” I asked, paralyzed by the shock.
“I can ask the Uber driver to go slower if you need a few more minutes. John will run in and drop off our luggage, and then we can head out to dinner. Think about where you want to go, and we’ll see you soon!”
The line went dead, and I was left scrambling to figure out what to do. I jumped up and started collecting the stuff from the coffee table, making sure not to damage anything as I loaded it on top of the clean clothes that were already folded but still sitting in the laundry basket by the stairs. Once I had everything packed up, I swung the basket up on my hip and rushed upstairs to get ready.
Twenty-five minutes later, I heard the front door open, and John called out to let me know he was there.
“I’ll be down in just a second,” I called back, giving my hair a quick fluff with my fingers before grabbing my purse from the bed and heading downstairs. I hadn’t changed out of the outfit that I had worn to the interview, there just wasn’t enough time, and I had no idea where we were going.
I walked barefoot into the living room, looking for the shoes that I had kicked off when I first got home. I sat down on the couch and was slipping them on when John came in from the garage with more suitcases lined up by the stairs. Seeing them there made it feel more real that this was really happening. They had all flown back to San Francisco so that I could celebrate Lily’s birthday with her. There was no doubt about it, I was already in too deep, and it was going to hurt like hell to walk away from her.
“Hey,” he said casually, shoving his hands into his shorts. He looked tanner than the last time I had seen him, his green eyes more vibrant against the darker color of his skin. “You almost ready?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I lied. Good implied that I was doing okay and that I didn’t feel like a hot mess, ready to explode at any moment from the dozens of thoughts that were rushing through my mind. “Did you want to take two cars?”
“Everyone’s already situated in the Sequoia. The middle row is pretty roomy.”
I felt silly for even asking, knowing that his SUV was plenty big enough for the five of us. There was just something about being in such close proximity to him that made me feel like we needed to take separate vehicles so I could clear my head and think.
I got up from the couch and walked over to where he was waiting for me, holding the garage door open. It felt weird, and I didn’t know what I should do. Did I hug him and tell him that I was glad to see him? Or did I ignore any physical contact and pretend that things were normal between us when they weren’t.
As I got closer, he rested his hand on my lower back and guided me out, pulling the inside door closed behind us. The garage door was open, and the Sequoia was parked in the driveway, next to my car.
“It’s nice to be home for a few days,” he said quietly as we walked together to the car. I could barely see inside, but when the light hit just right, I noticed that they were all piled into the back, leaving the front passenger seat open for me.
“It’s nice having you back,” I replied with a soft smile, meaning every word.
Something flickered across his face, forcing him to frown before he shook it off and climbed inside.
The drive to the restaurant was filled with Lily filling me in on what had happened since I’d left. It had only been two weeks, but she had enough details to fill in for two months. They had a few picnics on the beach, she went boating with Charles and got to do some deep-sea fishing, and in the evenings, she and Alice were building a puzzle of New York City that was super hard.
I laughed and stayed turned in my seat, watching her face light up every time she talked about something that had excited her. I asked about Sammy and was happy to hear that he was doing well and staying with their neighbor while everyone was in San Francisco. My heart felt happy, and for once, I started to second guess whether I was right about walking away from them.
The past two weeks had been depressing, and I hadn’t found joy in much of anything. But now that they were here, I felt alive and found my cheeks hurting from smiling so much. Maybe Mr. Crawford was right; I did need to stop and think about where I saw myself in five years and what I wanted out of life.