She giggled. “Those aren’t words, Mommy.”
I stood to my feet and pulled her in for a hug. “When did you get so big on me again?”
“Mom. I’m seven. Of course, I’m big.”
I barked with laughter. “Just know you’ll always be my little girl, even when you’re old and gray.”
She gawked. “As old as you?”
My voice fell flat. “Thanks, kid.”
She giggled with delight. “You’re welcome, Mommy.”
I shook my head and winked at her before I gave her one last smile. Then, Suri came bounding down the steps and announced the first of many rounds of hide and seek. Suri started counting, and my daughter scrambled to find the best hiding place in our little home, and I snuck out the front door before heading out to my car. Then, I punched the address of the building into my phone’s GPS.
Nice, only ten minutes away.
It didn’t even take me that long to get to the building since I blew through every yellow light just to get here. And once I parked in the parking garage across the street, I plucked my phone from the mount on the dashboard. I looked up and saw the name, TC Public Relations, sprawling over the top of the building, and GlassDoor was the first website to open up with the search. Well, the second website beat out only by the company’s professional website. And I was pleasantly surprised by the reviews I found.
“Great place to work! Awesome yearly bonuses. Just make sure to negotiate for more time off. The owner is stingy with vacation time.”
“Great starting salaries. Plenty of ways to work your way up the ladder. But, beware of the owner. He’s a bit rough around the edges.”
“The work is okay. The people make it worthwhile. But, I’m not sure about the PR practices. I really don’t agree with some of them.”
“Can’t win ‘em all,” I murmured to myself.
Once the clock struck 11:45, I grabbed my phone and my purse, and I slipped out of my car. I gripped my parking ticket so someone could validate it—hopefully—and I started across the street toward the towering brick-and-cement building. I walked through the doors and saw signs that said, “Interviews, This Way,” and it pointed to the elevator that practically smacked someone in the face once they walked inside.
“Take it all the way up to the top floor. You’ll see the signs after that.”
I turned toward the man’s voice that sounded behind me and found a security guard facing me.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said.
“A word of advice, though?” he asked.
I giggled. “I’ll take all I can get right now.”
He smiled kindly. “He’s not as hard to get along with as people paint him to be.”
I blinked. “He?”
He nodded. “The owner. That’s who you’re interviewing with. The secretarial position, right?”
Oh, boy.“Right.”
“Yeah, that’s him. Joanne was great, but she quit once her husband retired. Just keep an open mind. So long as you don’t try to bullshit him in any way, you’ll be just fine.”
Great, I hope.“Well, I’ve never been in the ‘bullshit’ field, so hopefully that will play to my advantage.”
The man chuckled. “Good luck.”
I turned toward the elevator. “Thanks. And thank you for the advice.”
I walked over to the sliding metal doors and pressed the button to summon them. The doors opened wide, and I stepped inside, pressing the number for the top floor. I backed out of GlassDoor on my phone and flipped over to the company website, ready to read up on who the hell owned this place. Mostly, because I wanted a leg-up on the competition. If I could do some research on who ran this place and whose secretary I was interviewing to become, I might be able to nudge out the competition with a basic source of knowledge they might not have had.
Unless that security guard is friendly with everyone.
