You slip into the office space quietly, and suddenly, you’re even more anxious than you were before. Your heart is pounding hard in your chest, and you’re finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden.
You’re immediately greeted by complete silence that is punctuated only by the soft rustling of paper. You notice the wispy sounds are coming from a woman seated at a desk just a few feet away, her face slightly obscured by the desktop monitor in front of her.
Her head is slightly bowed, her eyes focused on whatever she’s looking at in the folders on her desk. It’s almost as if she didn’t hear you come in, but somehow, you doubt it.
You contemplate announcing yourself, but for some reason, you think better of it and refrain from doing so.
As the silence continues to stretch on, your eyes leave her seated figure and glance above her to meet something you find even more odd.
Rainbow wallpaper.
Your brows arch in question at the sight. You look around and turn behind you to find the same vibrant, multicolored wallpaper spread across all the walls of her office.
Okaaay…
You know it’s called the Rainbow Escort Service, but actual rainbows sprinkled all over the head boss’ office is not something you were expecting when Nicole gave you the run down last night. You guess she decided to leave out this very interesting detail.
The woman at the desk finally raises her head and looks at you—and her stare shocks you into perfect stillness.
She must be Mindy.
Even from this distance, she seems so ruthless, with a very obvious, no-nonsense attitude. It’s almost as if she’ll kick you out if you so much as breathe the wrong way. Now that you think about it, she’s actually kind of like a younger version of Vito. You swear, they could totally be related.
She only looks at you for a few seconds before her attention goes back to the paperwork in front of her.
“Have a seat,” she says without looking at you.
You comply without a word, watching her closely as you take a seat opposite her.
Even without her eyes on you, she looks like she could pounce on you at any given moment. She has this dangerous demeanor about her, like she could do some serious damage without so much as lifting a finger.
Her expression is serious and all business as she continues to look through her pile of documents.
She doesn’t speak or look at you for several moments, so you’re caught off guard when her voice comes through again unexpectedly.
“Green tea or fruit juice?” she says.
You raise your brow, a bit confused by her words. “I’m sorry?”
She finally looks at you squarely, and her expression turns somewhat bored.
“Green tea or fruit juice?” she repeats.
Somehow, you get the distinct feeling she’s one of those people who doesn’t like repeating themselves.
“I assume you’re old enough to drink either,” she adds sarcastically, but there’s no humor in her eyes or her tone that tells you she’s just being friendly in her own way.
You wave your hands around. “Oh, nothing for me, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Pick one,” she says sternly. Her statement is definitely a demand. She doesn’t care if you’re not thirsty. Maybe this is part of the interview process?
“It’s rude to decline refreshments from your host,” she says in that same bored tone, as if she expects you to know all this, like it’s common knowledge and you’re clearly not getting with the program.
You clear your throat uncomfortably and shift in your seat. “Uh, I guess I’ll have fruit punch, then. Thank you.”
“You don’t hesitate when someone asks you what you’d like to drink. It shows indecisiveness and a lack of assertion; two qualities I abhor and don’t tolerate at my agency.”
She eventually speaks into some sort of intercom system set up at her desk. “Ivy, bring in a glass of fruit punch for the newbie and a cup of organic green tea for me,” she says.
A voice on the other side comes through. “Yes, Mindy.”
You recognize the voice as the girl from earlier; the one who brought you to her office. She must be her personal assistant. She must also be one hell of a tolerant person to be able to work so closely with this Mindy character from what you’ve seen of her so far—and considering how little that is, that’s saying something.
“Uh, um…okay,” you say, unsure of how else to respond to her statement. You’re not even sure if that was advice or constructive criticism or an insult. Somehow, you feel like it’s the latter.
“Enough with the ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’,” she scolds. “They show a lack of confidence, indecisiveness, and a lack of assertion.”
Her expression becomes even more bored but her tone signals that she’s getting irritated. Less than a minute after the request is made, Ivy walks in, bringing a tray with a cup of tea and a glass of fruit cocktail juice with her. You can’t help but notice that the cup and glass both have a rainbow graphic on them.
She sets the drinks down on rainbow-themed coasters in front of each of you along with brightly colored paper towels, each motion of her hands swift and graceful.
Rainbows are obviously big around here, and you find it weird as hell, but you make no mention of it.
“Thank you,” you smile at her, thankful for her presence, despite however brief it is. You really need a buffer from this Mindy woman right now—even a temporary one.
Unfortunately, Ivy’s presence is extremely short-lived. She leaves as quickly as she entered the moment she sets your drinks down.
Mindy keeps flipping through pages of various documents, and you keep waiting for her to ask you questions and start the interview. I mean, really, what kind of interview is this anyway?
You take a sip of your fruit punch, and you can’t help but think that this Mindy woman packs a lot more punch than the drink in your hand despite her dainty appearance.
“Take off your glasses,” she says suddenly, never breaking her gaze from her files.
You hesitate slightly, but you’re not about to make her repeat herself for a second time.
You pull your glasses off, feeling strangely bare as their familiar weight leaves your face and slides off your nose.
She finally looks at you squarely, giving you her full and undivided attention. Her eyes are a deep grey hue and kind of like the color of dark ash, and they narrow at you as they turn to slits as she continues to observe you—which actually feels more like she’s scrutinizing you, but you let her continue to assess you in silence although you don’t think you’ve felt more uncomfortable before.
Actually, you take that back. The only other person you’ve felt this uneasy around is Dexter Frost.
Ugh. Why are you even thinking of him at a time like this? Heck, why are you thinking of him at all? You really need to stop. You know you keep saying that, but you really do.
“Stand,” she commands.
You comply without hesitation this time.
She cocks her head slightly to the side, bringing her index finger up and moving it in a circle. You can only assume that she wants you to do a three-sixty spin for her, and as uncomfortable and nervous as that makes you, you still do it without question.
You feel her eyes continuing to assess and scrutinize you even as you do whatever else she asks you to do. You try to evade her gaze as much as possible, doing your best to keep your heart from leaping out of your throat.
Abruptly, she goes back to looking at her documents.
“You’ll be attending a high profile event this Saturday where you’ll be assessed,” she simply says. “Your performance there will determine whether you get hired or not. And since Nicole is the one who referred you, you’ll be going with her as an extra.”
She signs one of the documents, and her pen makes a harsh, stroking sound as it glides over the paper.
“I’ll also leave it to her to fill you in on the details,” she continues. “Wear contacts instead of your glasses, let your hair down, and since you’re a newbie and this is a one shot deal, it would be in your best interest to wear something that will get you noticed, specifically by the male attendees. Remember, you only get one shot to impress me, so make it count,” she adds firmly.
Holy crap, is this woman serious? You’re not gonna lie, that’s a lot to ask of—
Oh, shit…
The performance! It’s this Saturday! There’s no way you can miss it.
“This Saturday?” you say, and you can hear the worry in your voice. You’re sure she can as well. “I can’t this Saturday, I have an engagement that I can’t miss.”
She simply shrugs. “Well, that’s too bad then. You either figure out how to make it work for you, or you can look for work elsewhere.”
Her tone is so nonchalant and straight-up uncaring, as if she’s completely unbothered by any difficulties you or anyone else might have.
You have so many questions bubbling up and ready to pour out of your mouth, but you don’t want to push it. She seems like a very impatient person and you don’t want to test what little she seems to have.
The “interview” is a lot shorter—and a hell of a lot more bizarre—than you had anticipated, and before you know it, your time with Mindy is up and you’re being escorted out of her office by Ivy and then out of the building by the kind bellman.
The whole time you keep thinking that this is definitely the strangest interview you’ve ever had—and probably ever will have—in your entire life.
***
- Fascinated
- Happy
- Sad
- Angry
- Bored
- Afraid
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