Above is Camden
Upon entering, I look up to see that the building is called Gallahger Co. At least the building has a name. Judging off the vagueness of the email I thought I was going to some old broken down warehouse. I enter the doors and find myself in a lobby and through the lobby is what seems like a waiting room. The lady sitting at the desk smiles up at me and moves her naturally red hair out of her eyes and puts her round glasses up on her head. Must be reading glasses. She looks to be about in her mid thirties.
"Can I help you?" She asks very friendly like.
"Yes my name is Maddison Pike and I'm here for an interview?" I explain hoping this is actually the right building.
"Oh yes! That's right! Okay well why don't you have a seat over there in one of those chairs and it should be about five to ten minutes." I thank her.
It's not until I sit down in the chair that I realize how utterly nervous I really am! I can feel my armpits slowly begin to sweat so I take out my handbag deodorant and apply an extra layer hoping it will help. Then I grab my hand mirror to check and make sure my light makeup is still properly intact. It seems logical to me to try and keep calm as I can as this whole event probably would not go very smoothly if I let it show how nervous I feel. After a slow ten minutes have passed, a short African American women who reminds me of Miranda Bailey from Grey's Anatomy, appears in the doorway at the side of the room. She seems to be the secretary of whatever office this is. I'm so eager to learn exactly what kind of business this is.
"Maddison Pike?" She asks even though I'm the only one here.
"Yes?" I reply tentatively.
"Follow me." She replies cheerfully. "My name is Heather."
I don't say anything and simply follow her down a long hallway where before too long she takes an abrupt right into a room that seems to be an office. Inside there is a huge sleek jet black office desk with a MacBook Air laptop and other miscellaneous office items. Behind the desk sits a man who seems only a few years or so older than me. He's too busy with something on his laptop to notice our arrival and he runs a hand through his disheveled dirty blonde hair as he stares at the screen and groans, his dim blue eyes look tired and overworked. Probably from staring at that screen all day long every day.
"Mr.Gallahger, your interviewee is here." She announces. He looks up at us surprised
"Oh yes! Come in Maddison. Take a seat right there." He gestures to a black office chair in front of his desk.
I do as I am told setting my handbag down on the floor beside my chair and fold my hands nervously in my lap. I wait patiently for him to begin. "Do you have a copy of your resume for me to look at?"
I nod and pull out a neatly organized binder from my handbag, pull out my resume and hand it to him. He skims over it for a minute or two. Then he looks back up at me and explains that he did see it attached to my email but he wanted to look at a hard copy, I nod again.
"Are you afraid of guns Maddison?" Weird way to start an interview.
"No. My father used to be a hunter and he used to have his own target practice right in my backyard. Why?
He doesn't answer my question not seeming to care about my explanation. "Do you have any sort of combat training whatsoever?" Another strange question.
"I don't think so. Should I?"
Again he doesn't answer my question. He simply says "We'll have to fix that then." He pauses a long while then says "How do you feel about being a hitman's bodyguard?"
I swallow hard. "Um? I'm not sure to be honest. I've never done it."
He chuckles. "Well I propose we try it then. I like your how your resume is set up and you seem like you're a capable learner. At least I hope you are. Hopefully I'm not hiring some stupid girl who had help with her resume and was a waitress her whole life." A little harsh if you ask me. I'm surprised he's giving me the job, he didn't seem to care about me a whole lot. Following his statement he picks up the phone, sitting on his desk, presses a few buttons on the dial pad and says "Heather? Call the trainer and tell her we need her to be ready ASAP. Thank you." He turns back to me. "When can you start?"
"Is Monday okay?" I offer, hoping that's an appropriate day.
"Perfect! Monday! That's it! Come in Monday morning at 9:00. Take the weekend to prepare yourself and-" He cuts himself off, hesitating a second. "Maybe leave the dress at home next time. I doubt you can fight in a dress. Although the combat boots aren't a bad idea." He remarks while peering at me over the desk.
"O-oh. The dress is just for t-the interview." I explain slightly embarrassed and a little unhappy he assumes that I couldn't fight in a dress. That's saying if I could fight to begin with. But I'm sure once I finish this "training" of his, I'll be able to fight in anything. Including a dress and heels. Most girls can't even run in heels. I'm a fast learner.
He shrugs. "Heather, take Ms.Pike to the changing rooms and show her the uniform she will be wearing. And one more thing Ms. Pike, you can't tell anyone that the job you have just received is that of a Hitman's Bodyguard. " He commands seemingly bored by my presence. And was that disgust my name was laced with? Perhaps just the boredom extended.
"Well what shall I tell them then?"
He thinks for a heartbeat and replies with "Tell them you've gotten accepted as a secretary for an industry business."
"Well for what industry sir?"
He sighs angrily "I don't know an energy production industry. Now go with Heather and she'll help you change into a uniform." He finishes rather annoyed. I only now notice Heather had been standing outside the door.
"Yes sir." She nods and turns to me with a smile. "Come with me."
I follow her up a flight of stairs and down another long hallway, then through a big door labeled 'Changing Rooms'. Seems simple enough. Inside is a room that basically looks like a high school locker room. Except the cubbies all have a plastic bar across the top holding hangers. The hangers have various styles of uniforms. Most are black or white. There is one cubbie with only a single hanger containing another black uniform. It stands out from all the others, but not just by size. Heather walks across the room and grabs an outfit, hanger and all, and holds it up for my to see. Or for maybe it's for her to see, it's difficult to tell. When she's finished examining it she hands it to me. "Go try this on for me. We need to see if it fits. And hopefully it's comfortable but that's not nearly as important." She instructs gesturing to three stalls, all with doors, thankfully. Who knows exactly who might happen to walk in, it's a big building.
Five minutes later I walk back out of the stall dressed in black leggings, a black spaghetti strap tank top, under a black, tight fitting tee, under a black leather jacket. Over the leggings, at the elastic waistband, is an empty gun belt holster. A spot on each side. I lack the ability to shoot a gun of any type so I'm not sure how long the said training will take. To top my outfit off I am still wearing my combat boots since she didn't tell me any different and Mr.Gallahger seemed to like the idea of them.
Heather looks me up and down, then begins to circle me slowly. She does this twice. Then walks behind me once more. Finally she gently gathers all of my hair and smoothes out the top. Taking a hair band off her wrist, she wraps the whole kitten kaboodle into a neat high ponytail. Following this, she takes my hand and leads me over to the mirror on the wall near the stalls. She once again inspects me thoroughly and finally grins. "Perfect!" She beams.
