THE Interview...

Have you ever thought, “I can leave, no one will know? I can just go live in the woods, preferably warm like down south, and just spend my days living off the land.”

This is what is running through my brain as I sit in an office building in downtown Chicago awaiting my fate. Everything is glass and wood and white and gray. It’s a modern architect’s wet dream and I’m wet too, but in all the wrong places.

Today I have an interview. Not just any interview for any job, but THE interview for THE job. I will be (fingers crossed!!!) Mr. Henrik Payne’s assistant. He is VP of Sales and Marketing at Mimir, the third largest online retailer in the world and from what I hear a ball buster or vagina smasher, depending on what you have.

Preparation for this interview started eight years ago when I graduated college. Every job I have taken since I walked off that University stage with a diploma in my hand I sought for the sole purpose that it will impress a man like Mr. Payne. I imagine the interview will go something like this:

“So, Ms. Darke I see you worked as a Sales Manager at VonCroy Department Store and Assistant Secretary to the Dean at University of Chicago. Impressive. I know the Dean personally, what would he say about your work?”

I of course will wax poetic about how the Dean loves me and I am like a daughter to him. Well, maybe not a daughter, but third niece twice removed. After I will mention about how both jobs gave me the valuable experience to not only handle a multitude of personalities but also think on my feet. Employers love that!

“Ms. Drake!”

The feminine voice rips me from my fantasy and I turn my head to see a tall blond about my age and built like a model. She gives me a sweet if not sympathetic smile as she motions towards THE door.

“Ms. Darke, Mr. Payne will see you now.”

I gather my bag and follow her as she leads me to THE door. One knock.

“Enter.”

A man’s deep voice echoes through the door. Here’s my chance, fight or flight. Perhaps living off the land isn’t that bad. Who needs modern medicine or dentistry or hamburgers? Oh god, I do. I need all those things. As the blond who told me her name when I first arrived but due to massive nerves her name is nowhere to be found in my brain, enters the room I too follow.

“Mr. Payne, this is Morgana Drake, she is interviewing to be your assistant.”

I step out from behind her and see a man at a large modern wood desk with his head down tapping at his phone. His arm lifts and he points to a chair in front of his desk. Squaring my shoulders I stride in a confident manner to the appointed chair, lower myself and plaster the most syrupy sweet smile on my face. Here goes nothing!

Mr. Drake’s head lifts and in that moment the years of planning, research, petty jobs that caused blisters where the sun doesn’t shine, and good old fashioned hard work dissolve into a cloud of fog. A thick, stifling fog that is blurring my vision and making it hard to breath. I can’t think. The only notion that keeps entering my brain is...hot damn he’s gorgeous.

My fingers curl at my side to prevent them from molesting his thick brown hair. They want to do silly things like play hairdresser. I try to turn my attention away from his hair to his eyes which just makes it worse. They are piercing light blue and I think I can hear the faint sounds of a seagull in the distant. Okay, Morgana focus on his strong nose or chiseled jaw or his...oh god I can’t stop myself. Now I am wet in all the right places.

This. Is. Not. Good.