"Well you must be Miss Katherine Williams," he smirks, enunciating my name. "Now, where have I seen you before?"
I am utterly speechless, completely at a loss for words. Purple boy is staring me down with an evil grin on his face, clearly enjoying my confusion and discomfort.
He laughs before continuing. "I bet all of those color coded post-it notes didn't prepare you for this." His mocking tone snaps me back to my senses.
"I should go," I snap, half-turning. Something like a flicker of shock registers on his face.
"Wait!" He calls. "No, don't go. I'm sorry."
The office door opening saves me from having to make a response. A woman enters, professionally dressed, insanely tall, and stunningly gorgeous. She is looking down at a file in her hand, a warm smile already plastered on her face. She does a double take at the scene in front of her, her eyes landing on Purple boy in confusion. "Michael?" She asks. "What are you doing here?"
Michael.
What are you doing here, Michael?
Michael stands from the desk and walks across the room towards who I assume is Dana Hawksley, my interviewer. He shows no signs of being intimidated by her presence, and I look on in shock as he throws his arm around her shoulder in a one-armed hug.
"Can't a guy stop by and say hello to his family?" He shoots me another wicked smile as some puzzle pieces come together and others fall apart. He is deliberately trying to confuse me, throw me off.
"Well you never have before," Dana laughs awkwardly, hugging him around the waist.
"Just felt like it today," Michael shrugs. "Anyway, I didn't realize that I would be interrupting something," he lies. "You clearly have business to attend to," he gestures to me and I am still speechless. "See you around!" Michael calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room. Dana echoes his words in response, but I have the nagging suspicion that they were actually being spoken to me.
"I'm sorry about that," she laughs, turning back to me. "That was very unprofessional. But then again things can get pretty unprofessional around here, it's a bit of a relaxed environment. Dana Hawksley," she says, warmly extending her hand.
"Kate Williams," I smile back at her, taking it. She gestures for me to follow as she crosses the long, narrow room and back to her desk.
"Take a seat," she says warmly. I see her roll her eyes at the scuffmarks left on her polished wooden desk by purple boy- I mean, Michael's shoes. "I'm sorry about my brother, he's a little..." she seems to be searching for the right word before giving up and unceremoniously shrugging her shoulders.
"He seems... young."
"He is, I think he's about your age. How old are you?"
"Twenty."
"He's just turned twenty one," she says. "He didn't go to school though, he's been a little all over the place. He's been living- oh, sorry. You don't need to know all the intimate family details!" She laughs, waving her hand apologetically. On the contrary, I find myself very interested in the family details, but I cannot prompt her to continue.
Should I tell her that her brother is my neighbor? For some reason, it seems like a bad idea. And he probably would have mentioned it if it was something that he wanted her to know. But what do I care what he wants her to know?
"So, Miss Williams. Your transcripts are pretty impressive, overall high GPA and advanced classes. Your work experience is a little lacking, but you can be trained. Tell me why you want to intern here."
I have this answer planned to a the word, almost rehearsed. It's bullshit, it's a fluffy and meaningless answer that I'm sure she sees right through, but these things are always so staged.
"Well, Miss Williams, you seem like you would be a great fit here. At this point we would like to make you a formal offer; you've already read the internship details and schedule, I assume?"
"Really?" I ask, a little taken aback. "That quick?"
She laughs before reaching behind her desk and pulling out a small orange post-it note that seems to have been stuck onto one of the drawers.
"I trust his judgment," she says with an airy laugh, handing me the small square that I recognize from my own post-it collection.
Written on the note are two words, scrawled in messy and unidentifiable handwriting.
Hire her.
