My Secrets Are Safe.... Or are they?

The Terminal

"Hey Leah! I'm screwed!", Deborah croaked as she sunk into the couch in waiting lounge at the airport. Her flight was late by an hour. She glanced at her watch - 30 minutes left before boarding call.

"Debbie! sweetheart.. how are you? Listen I'd love to talk, but there's this really important client, and he won't wait. So, umm.. call you later?", Leah chirped.

"uh, okay! bye..", Debbie sighed. So much for calling your best-friend to kill time!

She scrolled through her contact list. 'Sally! yes, i'll call her.. she'll definitely be free'. Deborah punched her number and waited for Sally to pick up.

"Hey Sally! guess what? I'm screwed.", said Debbie.

"Deborah? is that you? umm.. can you call me later? I'm with this really hot date.. umm.. hehe.. I hope you understand!", Sally laughed nervously.

"Yup, of course! good luck with your hot date!", Deborah replied in her best yay-I'm-soo-happy-for-you voice and cut the call.

What's with girls and hot dates, anyway? Always conversation killers... I mean I've been out with guys  (okay, sort of! ... fine, I've usually tagged along with my girls on their potential dates... hey! I didn't want to, but my expert advice comes in handy), but I never ignore my friends. I mean, guys come and go, it's your bestfriends who stick by you!

Deborah looked at her watch and then her phone. 25 minutes to kill.. who to call?

Mum? nah! telling your mom about your great screw-up act? Never!

Ella? Quite possible! but wait, she must be in her karate class... Nada!

Dad? nopes! Never, he'll freak out on the phone...

Sighing, she stood up and went to the bar lounge at the airport. Drown yourself in tequila - the best remedy ever! No I can't! I've got a flight to catch and my parents would be welcoming me at the airport, three hours from now. Imagine, walking into their arms, staggering and passing out.

Deborah changed her route and made her way to the ladies' restroom.

She entered a stall, closed the door and popped on the toilet seat, head in her hands. Why am I such a klutz? The opportunity of a lifetime! but no, I had to screw it up at the last moment. Everything was going so fine... but I had to show everyone that I'm an idiot. Two years of effort..Wasted! Great career move, Deborah! Absolutely fantastic!

.........................................................................................................

"Deborah Harper. Come in for the interview", the pretty assistant called out.

Deborah gathered her files, papers, gave her dress one final pat down to remove any crease, self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear, took a deep breath and opened the door to the room.

Oh God, please help me! please don't let me screw anything up. I need this job at all costs. Taking one more deep breath, she entered the room.

The panel of interviewers gave her a warm smile and nodded at her. "please have a seat, Ms. Harper", a smiling bald man, about sixty years of age, addressed her.

Deborah smiled back. She walked towards the chair facing the panelists. Wow! everyone is so nice, here. I was afraid for no reason at all. You are going to do fine Debbie.. remember you aced the exams, GD, and all other hurdles. You are shortlisted from amongst 500 candidates. Just be coom and caal. Ugghh.. I mean calm and cool.

She sat down straight and folded her sweaty and clammy hands on her knees.

"So, Miss Harper!", a beautiful lady with shiny auburn hair looked at her. Shania Proust. The star journalist. The woman who presented the Newshour at nine. The voice which is revered by all. My role model.