With a great pride and confidence, I walked to all of my job interviews holding in my hand my honors diploma from one of the most prestigious business schools in America: Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. Wearing three-inch stilettos, a white button down shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt with the length above my knee, and my hair pulled back in a sleek bun. I entered and left each interview with a smile on my face and confidence in my eyes while offering them my hand to close the deal with a sincere handshake, firm and tight. However, that did not seem to work. After two weeks, I did not receive any call back which was odd since each interviewer displayed a reassuring smile of acceptance as if they believed that I was fit for the job. Although I was turned down several times, I asked my agent to keep sending my curriculum vitae in various companies; I was determined to be employed and put my life back together.
Today at 9:00am, I was scheduled to interview for marketing researcher position at the Stag, Inc., one of the biggest collective corporation of men’s clothes, underwear, and cologne. With the same pride and confidence I had in my past interviews, I strolled down Washington Blvd. holding my warm Starbucks Chai Latte on my right hand, and my business bag on my left. With the same three-inch stiletto, white button down shirt, and tight pencil skirt, I entered the doors of the building with hopes of being employed. Several gentlemen greeted me with a nod or a smile as they walk passed me in their suits and ties while I smiled to myself feeling flattered by each glances directed towards me. The ambience of the building seem very modern with tiles the color of black and white and walls of grey oozing with style, manliness, and sex appeal. The high ceiling created the atmosphere of elegance and power while the scent of the building like fresh linens and hardwood maximizes its setting. Scrambling through my business bag, I looked for my appointment card, hoping that it was there- and it was. Imagine my relief! Although full of anxiety, I took a sip of my Chai Latte to wake me up as I gracefully walked towards the reception table with my chin up and flamboyant smile, and in return, the stocky receptionist stared into my eyes with a bored face as if she just woke up.
“Good morning!” cheerfully I greeted her with a smile, “I have an appointment at 9:00am with Ms. Anna Jacobs from the Marketing Department. My name is Amelia Carter” as I slide my appointment card on the black marble counter towards her.
“Hold, please” as she lifts up the phone placing it against her dark brown hair, “Hello, Julie! This is Karen from the front desk and I’m just confirming a scheduled appointment with Ms. Anna Jacobs by Ms. Amelia Carter at 9:00am” she looked towards me with a blank state as my name rolls out of her tongue. “Yes. Uh-uh, sounds good. Bye” she set hung up the phone, and then, asked for my drivers’ license to reaffirm my identification. “The Stag’s Marketing Department is at the 13th floor, elevators are to your right, good luck!” her face lifted up as she said those last words good luck.
Clunking my stilettos towards the elevator, a young gentleman in a black button down shirt with a grey tie greeted me good morning, I returned his greeting. I can feel the warmth of my body rushing through my cheeks because of the attention given to me by the male employees in this company. I stood in the elevator imagining myself working in this building with these handsome yet respectful guys welcoming me every morning with a smile in their eyes. I can get use to the scent of after-shave and cologne as it lingers through my nose. I was more determined to work here more than ever.
“First day?” a male voice from behind asked, and when I looked back, it was the guy in the black button down shirt.
“No. Job interview, actually” I stated trying to halt my smile from appearing in my face.
“Well, good luck. I’d love to see you around here” he said, although I’m not looking at his face, I hear him smile as his words flowed down his mouth. The elevator arrived to my floor and without glancing back; I confidently walked in towards front desk of the floor.
A woman in a red suit greeted me in her high pitched voice, “You must be, Ms. Amelia Carter. Please have a seat. Mr. Locke will be with you in just a few seconds” my appointment card clearly stated Ms. Jacobs not Mr. Locke and out of my confusion, I corrected her saying, “Did you mean Ms. Jacobs?” she smiled with her eyes glistening with excitement, “Yes. It was originally Ms. Jacobs who is our marketing supervisor, but the director wanted to interview you instead. You will adore him. Please be seated and I will let him know that you are here” I trusted her encouraging enthusiasm hoping that Mr. Locke is not a grumpy old man. I laid down my business bag on the black carpet while I sat down on the white leather couch feeling its coldness on the back of my legs. My heart was filled with excitement and anxiety as I wait for my name to be called. I startled when she said, “Ms. Amelia Carter, please come in. Mr. Locke is ready for you”. The receptionist opened the door for me, and winked while muttering the words, good luck.
I inhaled deeply as I entered the exquisite room filled with stacks of marketing books and furniture made of black hardwood. The sound of the door shutting behind me made the hairs from my skin jumped as I observed Mr. Locke’s figure staring quietly into the window. He was taller than six feet, his broad shoulders fitting perfectly the tailor of his grey suit, his blonde hair pulled back while holding a ceramic mug. When he turned around, my mouth was gaping open and my throat felt swollen, tightening around my esophagus. He smiled; a familiar cocky smile was written across his face. Spencer. Spencer Locke. His eyes looked at me without a sense of recognition as he sat on his black leather chair, and asked me to sit down with his commanding voice. Following his orders, I sat down quietly pulling my tight pencil skirt down. I can feel a warm sensation on my shoulder muscles as if my ligaments are being pulled apart due to my nervousness. My mouth still gaping open in shock seeing Spencer; I knew I was staring blankly at him with my flushed out face as if I saw a ghost.
