Made to Love Read Free Page B

This was my chance.  Mentally, and literally,
crossing my fingers, I exited the cab.  I paid the fare, turned, and paused as I
stared up at the sleek building in front of me, all glass and sharp corners. 
It was daunting.  Straightening my blouse, and holding tighter to my bag
containing the promised resume, I pushed through the large revolving doors. 
    I barely had time to blink before I was
escorted up to the eighth floor.  It seemed my name was already on the list,
and once I had shown ID, security had whisked me through without question.
    “Miss Andrews, would you like any water,
coffee, tea?” the receptionist asked, after directing me to a seating area
consisting of four large, black leather chairs that looked as if they cost more
than my rent.  Each. 
    “No, thank you.” I was too nervous to drink
anything and knowing me, I would end up dumping it all over myself.  Not a
great way to put my best foot forward.  Best foot forward?  Helen would be
proud, knowing I was quoting one of her euphemisms.
    Wait!  Helen!  I hadn’t even called to give
her the good news and ask for her to wish me luck!  I contemplated making the
attempt—I still had ten minutes, after all—but was not given the luxury as the
receptionist quietly took a call and then beckoned me to follow her down the
hall.  I was shown to a large office, expensively and stylishly furnished. 
Rising from behind the mahogany desk was an older African American man with
salt and pepper hair.  I guessed him to be in his early fifties.  He came
around the desk to shake my hand, introducing himself as Isaac, while the
receptionist left, closing the door behind her.  He was wearing black framed
glasses, dark navy blue suit pants and a white dress shirt.  No tie. 
    He gestured for me to sit before his desk,
and I awkwardly took my seat.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reagan
Andrews,” Isaac murmured, his voice deep, confident, and all business.  “Do you
have a resume for me?”
    I slid one across his desk.  “It’s nice to
meet you, too, Mr. Reynolds.  Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” 
I flushed slightly.  I really did have a southern accent, and yes, it was bad.
    “I see you graduated top of your class in
Austin, and finished your degree this spring.  Tell me, what brings you to the
Big Apple?” Isaac asked.
    I took a breath, “Well, I’m very passionate
about web and graphic design.   I feel it’s something I am good at, and needed
a place to start.  New York seemed to be that place.”  I didn’t add that I had
been dying to leave Austin, and put as many miles as I could between me and the
memories that haunted me there.  The thing about memories, though?  They
followed you no matter where you ended up.  “I could be an asset to your team,
if given the opportunity.”
    Isaac gave no indication if I had given a
satisfactory answer, or totally blown it.  His face remained expressionless as
he briefly explained the position and asked me a few more questions.
    “Ok, Miss Andrews.   I should have a decision
within a few weeks.  I am leaving tomorrow on business, but interviews will
continue in my absence.  Someone should be in contact with you in the next two
to three weeks.  Thank you for coming in today.” Isaac walked me out to the
elevators after I shook his hand and thanked him.
    The interview hadn’t gone badly, I thought,
although I didn’t know if that was entirely true, or just me trying to be
optimistic.  There were other applicants, obviously, and selling myself to a
prospective employer was not something I had much experience with, but overall,
I still thought I had done pretty well with the whole best foot forward thing. 
I smiled to myself, deep in thought, when the elevator opened on the fourth
floor and a man stepped on. 
    My concentration immediately took a nose
dive, as, for some unexplained reason, my hands went clammy.  He was at least a
foot taller than me, and