“Kennedy Livingston?”
My attention turned to the blonde secretary grasping a stack of papers like it was her life. Her black pencil skirt looked like it was two sizes too small and her white blouse hugged her bust in the same way. But that’s Atlanta for you. “Yes?”
“Mr. Peterson will see you now,” She smiled and pointed to a glass door that lead to an office. The secretary looked perfect on the outside. Her long, golden hair flowed down her back. She walked confidently in heels and her legs could be as long as the Great Wall of China. Maybe she was once a model, but one thing is for sure; this office is a man’s world.
I nodded my head, grabbed my résumé off my lap, and nervously stood up. Everything depends on this job. I need it and without it, I’ll be moving back to Pennsylvania so fast my mom won’t even have the chance to say “I told you so”. Before entering, I took a deep breath and let it out. Don’t think about, just wing it. The knob turned effortlessly as I awkwardly stood in the door way.
“Have a seat,” A man a few years older than me instructed me as he looked up from his manila file. My full name was stamped on the front. ‘Kennedy Vanessa Livingston’. In it probably contained everything in my permanent file from high school, my past jobs, and whatever else they look at when hiring new people.
I did as he said, but almost immediately I felt intimidated. That’s almost how everyone in Atlanta makes me feel. It’s so much bigger than my hometown. Then again, a lot of things are bigger than the town I was raised in. Not much goes on there.
“Do you have a résumé?” He asked, sounding bored. I guess I would be too if I had to do lots of interviews. He had slick brown hair and memorable eyes. Plum colored bags under his eyes gave me the impression that he was under a lot of stress and probably didn’t sleep well. He looked somewhat..broken.
Silently, I nodded my head and handed it to him. It wasn’t at all impressive, but neither was his appearance and look at him. He has an arrogant attitude so far and already I can tell I don’t fit in here.
“So you have no real experience?” He smirked and plopped the file down on his desk.
My nervous smile disappeared, “I guess not.”
“So, I’m supposed to hire a girl from,” He reread my basic information again and looked up at me, “Remington, Pennsylvania; someone who has never worked as a secretary or even in the music business. Why would you move 700 miles just to be a secretary?”
Did he just say that to me? “I was hoping that it would lead me to a career in music,” I quietly answered. Listen to how dumb I sound. He’s right; what am I doing here? It’s not like I even belong.
“Well, that makes sense. Do you know how to make coffee?” He nonchalantly asked.
“Uh, yes I do,” I answered. How is this relevant? It’s a surprise to myself that I’m still sitting in this guy’s office.
“Can you type and work a computer?” He asked again.
“Yes, I took a computer class in high school.”
“Can you answer a phone?”
“Yes.”
“Well Miss. Livingston, you’re hired,” He unexcitingly told me and started writing stuff down.
My mouth slightly hung open in shock. “Are you serious?”
He laughed unamused, “What do you think it takes to be a secretary? Plus, you’re the only girl who applied with an interesting background.”
He wanted me to amuse him? He should just hire a monkey in a top hat! That would provide him more entertainment than me. I had a decision to make. Say never mind and walk out of this office and never come back or spend my days making coffee and taking messages. Did I really have a choice? “Thank you. I won’t disappoint you.”
“I’m sure you won’t. Someone will call you to tell you when you start,” He wheeled his chair around and I took it as my signal to leave.
Well, that was incredibly awkward. I feel very insulted. The blonde secretary I would be replacing smiled at me as I walked by her to the elevator. I wonder if she knows I’m replacing her and that’s a fake smile or if she really doesn’t know yet.
I stared at my untied shoe lace as I waited for the elevator. The elevator doors finally opened and I started to walk forward when someone brushed against me. Quickly, I turned around to catch a glimpse of a man’s back. He was wearing a grey shirt and jeans. His shoes were name brand and were bright red. It was weird, but I swore I saw him before. That’s impossible right? I’ve only ever been in one town, Remington; a town where only 20,978 people live.
The elevator doors started to close and I jumped backwards. It wouldn’t be a very good day if I ended up in the hospital from being crushed. As they slowly closed, the man turned around to look at me.
It was weird because for a second, it looked like he knew me. He held my curious gaze. I hated the elevator doors for closing. I just want to run back up the stairs and ask him his name.
His face, still fresh in my memory, started to fade in importance as the elevator made its way to the lobby. Oh my good gravy! I just got a job in a new town. That’s more than my parents ever thought I would get. Remington isn’t the kind of place people leave. Nobody leaves and becomes something. That’s why everyone told me my dream would never come true. Almost everyone in that town has heard me sing and play my guitar, they all told me I was good. So, did they all lie?
I guess it doesn’t matter now. What matters now is proving that I’m talented and if I have to do it by brewing coffee from nine to five, then so be it. My heels clicked on the tile floor of the lobby as I exited the elevator. My hair, tossed to the side, bounced as I walked. My confidence looked like it was shining, but on the inside I just wanted to hide. It might be paranoia, but I feel like every single person can tell I’m ‘small town girl’. I hate that feeling, not being in the spotlight, but being judged. What people think about me, touches my heart. Compliments mean everything to me, but even 1,000 compliments don’t touch me as one negative comment does. They get to me and I end up thinking about what someone says all day.
My phone started to vibrate in my pocket and I made a mental note to check it before I start to drive back to my apartment.
