In The Office

Chapter Two

It's only once I reach the lobby that my mind clears enough for me to realize it. I'm not getting this job. My one hope to get through this is just gone. I'll have to start looking somewhere else. I doubt I'll find any other job as high paying as this one but I have to try. I can't afford to fail. She can't afford it if I fail. Literally. I'm almost at the automatic doors when I remember the text I got during the cursed interview. I doubted I would have gotten the job had my phone not beeped anyway. He's mad at me for leaving the way I did. I don't blame him. But that doesn't mean that I agree with what he did.

My steps slow as I turn on my phone and wait for the screen to light up. I quickly open the text. It's from Mom.

Good luck today. I'm praying for you.

My heart shatters as I read the message over and over again. How am I supposed to go home and face her? How am I supposed to tell her that I failed her and that I have no idea what to do now?

My sadness quickly turns into anger. All of this because of him. All of this because he couldn't do his goddamn job without letting his emotions cloud his judgment. He had no right to kick me out before I finished.

Before I know what I'm doing, I find myself back in the elevator pressing the top button repeatedly. I haven't calmed down in the slightest by the time the doors open and I march down to the office. I vaguely hear the assistant from earlier tell me that I'm not allowed to go in but I swing the door open anyways. This time, Adam does look up from his work when I come in.

"You have no right to cut my interview short because you don't like me as a person."

"You're not allowed to be here."

"You want to know what I found out during my research? I found out that your hotels in Marseilles suck."

"Excuse me?"

"You had the most wonderful view of the sea and what did you do? Cover that facade in tiny windows and put all the balconies facing the city. Oh and these floor to ceiling windows?" I gesture to the glass panels to my right. "Yeah they're not only for billionaire offices. Use these in the living rooms, maybe even bedrooms and create a pattern with them and the balconies and you've got yourself a fantastic game of volumes. It's a shame you had a great site but you built a bland boring parallelepipedic shape instead of making something worth looking at. Or better yet, worth living in. Do you even realize how tiny the rooms on the lower floors are and how large the hallways you made? You could have made the rooms so much better if you just decreased the width of those hallways with a foot or two from each side.

Here's the thing about working with small firms in the middle of nowhere, we design houses. And you know what? That's good. I know how to make a place feel like home. I know what kind of place people want to spend the rest of their lives in." By now, the shock has completely left his face. A mixture of anger and annoyance replace it but I can't seem to stop talking. I step even closer to him and place my hand on his desk lowering myself till I'm eye level with him. "I'm not a researcher and I'm not a receptionist. I get hired for my floor plans and facades not for my attitude and googling skills. Keep that in mind the next time you hire an architect." He doesn't break eye contact and neither do I. My chest is rising and falling in anger. My eyes are fixed on his when a meek voice speaks from behind me.

"Um, should I call security, sir?" The assistant asks.

"Don't bother." I tell her. "I'll find my way out just fine on my own." I straighten myself and head towards the door. She all but jumps out of the way, watching me cautiously as I pass her. I suddenly stop and turn my head in Adam's direction. "Oh, and another tip about hiring designers? Check the portfolio. It tells you more than the resume ever could."

With that I make my way out of his office and his building. I have no doubt in my mind that I will not be called back to them ever again. But at this point, I don't care. Adam Carton didn't give me a chance to begin with. At least I gave him a good earful before I left. It's not a big victory. But I consider it a victory nonetheless.

***

The first thing I do when I get home is check on Mom. Our apartment is pretty small, so it doesn't take me long to find her. The kitchen is empty, though I notice the few dishes I left in the sink this morning have been cleaned. I told her time and again to leave the chores for me but she never listens. The tiny sitting room is empty too. So I go straight to her room. She's lying in her bed in a deep slumber. The tv is still on. The laugh tracks from an old sitcom make her stir so I turn it off and walk out as silently as I can.

I'm in the kitchen cutting some tomatoes and watching the pot of spaghetti when I receive a text. I quickly clean my hands on a dishtowel and reach for my phone.

So how was it?

Emma again.

Not very good. Understatement, I huff out a humorless laugh. I'll tell you everything soon.

Her response is almost immediate.

Need to blow off some steam?

I laugh again. Of course she would find it as an excuse to drag me there again.

You just want me to tell you what happened.

With the boring-est of details. But also, in case you need a punching bag.

I'll be there in 30 minutes.

See you then.

*****

I am not athletic in the slightest. Emma on the other hand is the poster girl for the term. So when I get to Archer's gym, I'm not surprised in the slightest when I find her already on the treadmill, set at high speed, breathing heavily and dripping with sweat.

"Hey," She says when she sees me and slows the treadmill to a much easier pace.

"Hi," I say, climbing on the bike next to her. It's been a routine of ours ever since we were in college. She drags me here. I ride the bike. She gets on the treadmill and we run and cycle all our troubles away. If only it were that easy.

"What a douche." She says when I finish telling her what happened. "You're better off somewhere else, honey, believe me."

"Douche or not, that job was my only hope to make ends meet. The bills are getting more and more expensive and I'm not sure how much longer I can double shift in diners and cafes."

"The bank still refuses to gove you the loan?"

"They want more paperwork to decide. But we both know they're stalling."

"You'll get through it." Says my friend.

"I hope so." I sigh. There has got to be another solution. There has got to be another way.

"You will. Just stay strong and keep looking."

*****

By the time I step out of the gym shower and dress, my mind is already going a mile a minute thinking of all the possible jobs I can apply to until I find a proper architecture firm. An opening like that at Carson hotels isn't very common. I doubt I'll find anything like that again, especially so soon. So I'll have to settle for less for the time being.

I'm deep in these thoughts when I hear my phone ring. I take it out of my bag and see that I have four missed calls from a number I don't recognize. Before I can check the number it starts ringing again. I answer and the woman on the other end says, "Good afternoon, is this miss Daniella Parker?"

"Yes, this is she. How can I help you?"

"I'm calling on behalf of Carson Hotels. You have been hired. We'd like you to start tomorrow at eight am sharp."

My mind zones out the rest of the details and I find myself thanking her and ending the call. I can't believe it.

"Hey Dan," Emma walks out still drying her hair with a towel. "I think my friend Cara said they have an opening for a waitress at her cafe. You want me to put in a good word for you? It's no Carlos hotels or whatever but it's a start."

"You don't need to," I tell her, still in shock. "I think I just got hired."