by Susan Wolfe
The face that looked back from the mirror above the sink was staring at a firing squad as Georgia held her icy hands under the hot water.
But then the stare turned defiant.
She hadn’t driven all the way from Arkansas to live in her car and get this job interview just to become distracted at the critical moment by some prissy, no-account donut police. Who did he think he was? It wasn’t even his donut, and anyway, he wasn’t doing the hiring. Her only task at this moment was to deliver the interview of a lifetime and get this job.
She squared her shoulders, practiced her smile in the mirror two or three times and strode with her head erect back along the deserted corridor to the interview room.
The man who entered the conference room five minutes later had the stiff-backed posture and shorn hair of a military man. He was well over six feet tall, lean, in his late forties, wearing neatly rolled blue chambray shirtsleeves and a bright yellow bow tie. As he shook her hand and sat opposite her, she saw that his stubble of hair was red and his eyes were a muted green. Fellow Irishman, maybe. Could she forge some connection from that?
“I’m Ken Madigan, the General Counsel here. Are you Georgia Griffin?”
“Yes, sir, I am.” She offered her carefully calibrated, not-alarming smile.
“Appreciate you coming in today. Sorry to keep you waiting.” He tapped a green folder with her name on the tab. “I’ve read your resume, so I won’t ask you to repeat it. As you know, we have a key job to fill after quite a hiring freeze. Let’s start with what’s important to you in your next job.”
“Well, sir, I just got my paralegal certificate, and I’m looking for the opportunity to put my learning and judgment to use. I intend to prove that I can make a real difference to my company, and then I’d like to advance.”
His smile was encouraging. “Advance to what?”
This was a variant of the ‘five years’ question, and she answered confidently. “In five years I’d still like to be in the legal department, but I want to have learned everything there is to know about the other parts of the company, too. My goal is to become, well, indispensable.”
“Is anything else important?” Those gray-green eyes were watching her with mild interest. She decided to take a chance and expose a tiny bit of her peculiar background to personalize this interview.
“Well, sir, I’m eager to get started, because I need to make enough money to get my baby sister here just as soon as I can make a place for her.”
His raised his eyebrows slightly. “And how old is she?”
“Fifteen, sir, and needing a better future than the one she’s got. I need to move pretty fast on that one.”
“I see. Now tell me about your work experience.” Which was where these interviews generally died. She shoved her cold hands between her thighs and the chair.
“I don’t have a lot of glamorous experience, sir. I cleaned houses and worked as a waitress at the WhistleStop to get myself through school. And the whole time I was growing up I helped my father look after the horses he was boarding. In fact, he got so busy with his second job for a while that I just took over the horses myself. Horses are expensive, delicate animals, and things can go wrong in a heartbeat. With me in charge, our horses did fine.”
“Okay, great.” He ran his palm over his stubble of hair, considering. “Now tell me what kind of people you like to work with.” Not one follow-up question about her experience. Did he think there was nothing worth talking about? Just focus on the question.
“The main thing is I want to work with smart people who like to do things right the first time. And people who just, you know, have common sense.”
“I see. And what kind of people bug you?” This interviewer wasn’t talking much, which made it hard to tell what impression she was making. A bead of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades.
“Well, I don’t much like hypocrites.” Which unfortunately eliminated about half the human race, but she wouldn’t mention that. He waited. “And I don’t like people who can’t or won’t do their jobs.” She stopped there, in spite of his continued silence. No need to mention pedophiles, or that nasty prison guard who’d backed her against the wall on the catwalk. That probably wasn’t what Ken Madigan had in mind.
“Thank you.” He tapped his pen on her resume. “Now I’d like you to describe yourself with three adjectives.”
Was this guy jerking her chain? He didn’t much look like he’d jerk anybody’s chain, but what did adjectives have to do with job qualifications? Maybe he was politely passing the time because he’d already decided not to hire her.
“Well,” she said, glancing into the corner, “I guess I would say I’m effective. Quick at sizing up a situation.” She paused. “And then I’m trying to decide between ‘inventive’ and ‘tough.’”
“Okay, I’ll give you both. Inventive and tough. Tell me about a time you were quick at sizing up a situation.” This didn’t feel like the other interviews she’d done. Not only were the questions weird, but he seemed to be listening to her so closely. She couldn’t recall ever being listened to quite like this.
To her astonishment she said exactly what came into her head. “Well, like this one. I can already tell that you’re a kind person who cares about the people who work for you. I think you’re pretty smart, and you listen with a capital L. You might have a problem standing up to people who aren’t as smart or above board as you are, though. That could be holding you back some.”
Ken Madigan’s eyebrows were suddenly up near his hairline. Why on earth was she spilling her insights about him to him? Too many weeks of isolation? Was it hunger? She should have taken that coffee after all, if only to dump plenty of sugar in it. Or was it something about him, that earnest-looking bow tie maybe, that made her idiotically want to be understood? Whatever it was, she’d blown the interview. Good thing she wasn’t the sort of weakling who cried.
So move it along and get out of there. She dropped her forehead into her hand. “God, I can’t believe I just said all that. You probably don’t have any flaws at all, sir, and if you do it isn’t my place to notice them. I guess I need another adjective.”
“Which would be . . . ?”
“Blunt.”
He lowered one eyebrow slightly. “Let’s say ‘forthright.’ And I won’t need an example.”
“You know what, though?” There was nothing left to lose, really, and she was curious. “I’m not this ‘forthright’ with everybody. A lot of people must just talk to you.”
“They do,” he acknowledged with a single nod, his eyebrows resuming their natural location. “It’s an accident of birth. But they usually don’t say anything this interesting.” He sounded amused. Could she salvage this?
“Well, I’m completely embarrassed I got so personal.”
“You shouldn’t be. I’m impressed with your insight.”
“Really? Then maybe you see what I mean about being quick.”
He laughed. “I believe I do.”
“I mean, I can be quick about other things, too. Quick to see a problem starting up. Sometimes quick to see what’ll solve it. Like when my father had to go away and I saw we’d have to sell the stable to pay the taxes . . .” Blah blah blah, there she went again. She resisted clapping her hand over her mouth. Was she trying to lose this job?
The woman with the bouncy ponytail stuck her head in. “I’m so sorry, but Roy would like to see you in his office right away. And your next appointment is already downstairs.” She handed him another green folder. The tab said ‘Sarah Millchamp.’ “I’m going to lunch, but I’ll have Maggie go down for her in ten minutes. She’ll be in here whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Nikki,” he said, turning back to Georgia. “Unfortunately, it looks like our time’s about up. Do you have a question for me before we stop?”
Sixty seconds left to make an impression. “I saw your stock’s been going up. Do you think it’s going up for the right reasons?”
There went his eyebrow
s again, and this time his mouth seemed to be restraining a smile. “Not entirely, no, as a matter of fact.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have an opinion about improvements that would make your growth more sustainable?”
He allowed his smile to expand. “I have many opinions, and a small amount of real insight. Might be difficult to discuss right
now . . .”
She held a hand up. “Oh, I understand. But do you think a paralegal could help make a difference?”
“A solid paralegal could make a big difference.”
“I’d like to know more about the issues, sir, but they’re probably confidential, and anyway, I know you have to leave.” She leaned forward, preparing to stand up.
“You’re a surprising person, Ms. Griffin, and an interesting one. I’ve enjoyed our conversation.”
Like he enjoyed a circus freak, probably. She made her smile humble. “Thank you.”
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to have somebody from Human Resources give you a call in the next day or two.”
Was he serious? “That would be fine.”
“If we decide to work together, could you start pretty quickly?”
The goal now was to leave without saying anything else stupid. “I’m sure I can meet your requirements.”
As he walked her out to the elevator he lowered his voice. “You know, Ms. Griffin, you’re an intuitive person, and you might have some insights about the Human Resources people you’re about to meet . . .”
She held up her palm. “Don’t worry, sir. If I do, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Excellent. Great talking to you. Drive safely, now,” he called as the elevator door closed between them.
Thank God that interview was finished. In another five minutes she’d have told him anything, she’d have told him about Robbie. Drive safely? What a cornball. But she must have said something right. He gave her that tip about getting past the Human Resources people, which meant he must like her. Landing a first job with her resume was like trying to freeze fire, but this time at least she had a chance.
Her stomach cramped with hunger as she emerged into the lobby and saw a woman in her mid-thirties glancing through a magazine. Tailored suit, precision-cut blond hair, leather case laid neatly across her lap. Completely professional, and she had ten years’ experience on Georgia at least. No. No way. Georgia walked briskly over to the woman and stood between her and the receptionist.
“Ms. Millchamp?” she said quietly, extending her hand.
The woman stood up and smiled. “Sarah Millchamp. Nice to meet you. I know I’m early.”
“I’m Misty. So sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Madigan’s been called out of town unexpectedly. He’s headed for the airport now.”
“Oh!” The poised Ms. Millchamp quickly regained her composure. “That’s too bad. But of course I understand.”
“Thank you for being so understanding. This literally happened ten minutes ago, and I’m completely flustered. I know he wants to meet you. Are you parked out here? At least let me walk you to your car.”
She put a sisterly hand against Ms. Millchamp’s elbow and began steering her toward the exit. “Tell you what, can I call you to reschedule as soon as Mr. Madigan gets back? Maybe you two can have lunch. Just don’t take that job at Google in the meantime.”
“Google?”
“Now, don’t pretend you haven’t heard about the job at Google. In Brad Dormond’s department? They’re our worst nightmare when it comes to competing for good people.” The air in the parking lot mingled the spicy scent of eucalyptus with the smell of rancid engine grease, and her stomach lurched. “So, see over there? That’s the entrance to the freeway. Bye now. I’ll call you soon.”
Georgia waved as Sarah Millchamp backed her car out. Then she hurried back inside to the receptionist.
“Hi,” she said. “That lady, Ms. Millchamp? She just let me know she has a migraine and will call to reschedule. Will you let Maggie know?”
The receptionist nodded and picked up her phone. “That’s too bad.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Done and dusted, as Gramma Griffin would say.
She still might not get the job, of course, she reminded herself as she pulled onto the freeway, nibbling a half-eaten dinner roll she’d squirreled away in the crack between her passenger seat cushions the night before. She’d gotten this far once before. And she didn’t have to get it. She had another dozen resumes out, and one of those might still lead to something. Her cousin at Apple had turned out to be more useless than a well dug in a river, but that didn’t mean she was desperate. If she continued sleeping in her car most nights her money could last for another five weeks. And Lumina Software might not be a great job, anyway. Ken Madigan probably just interviewed well. That’s probably all it was.
CHAPTER 2
Georgia spent her first hour of employment at Lumina Software consuming donuts at what she hoped was a dignified pace and listening carefully in orientation. She spent the second hour sort of listening in orientation, and keeping her spirits up by reminding herself what a privilege it was to be paid $23.91 an hour to sit anywhere. She spent the third hour envisioning black smoke and a clanging fire alarm that would get her out of orientation, which was proving to be about as useful as pajamas on a pig.
Sally Kurtz, the senior vice president of Human Resources, was leading the dozen or so new employees through a discussion of company core values. The group had been herded together on metal folding chairs around one end of a wood-laminated table in a meeting room that had obviously been designed for larger crowds. Every nervous cough and every chair scrape on the speckled linoleum echoed faintly off the farthest white wall.
Senior Vice President was a fancy title, and Ms. Kurtz was not what Georgia expected. Ms. Kurtz smiled shyly and introduced herself in a voice so soft that the new employees had to tilt forward to hear her. She was in her mid-forties, with shoulder-length mousy brown hair that looked like she’d slept on it funny, and a kind of boney, angular body that put Georgia in mind of a Methodist missionary. She wore a cream-colored sweater with see-through material bunched at the neck, evidently intended to be feminine but modest. Could that be store bought? Well, dowdy was one way to show you were all business, and it must be working for this big shot.
“Let’s start with Integrity,” Sally said. The word Integrity faded in at the top of a PowerPoint slide that was projected onto a pull-down screen. “What do you think the company means by that?”
“We tell the truth?” said a slightly built man in a short-sleeved brown shirt.
“Absolutely.” Sally wrote ‘Tell the truth’ with a purple marker on a flip chart. “That’s an important element. What else?”
“We obey the law and do the right thing,” said a woman with bright lipstick and orange hair. Uh-oh. If people really participated in this sorry nonsense they were going to prolong it.
“Good,” Sally nodded, and wrote it down. “We rely on our legal team for that first part, and then we rely on our own moral compass for the second, don’t we?”
Shouldn’t the company orient them to something useful, like the technical terms on all the billboards around here? Terms like ‘cloud computing’ or ‘SaaS’? Except maybe everybody else understood them already. Georgia had been memorizing one technical term from each trip down the freeway, and then looking it up on the Internet in the library. She knew she was coming from behind.
The door opened and a short, very fit woman sporting jeans and boyish blond hair entered. Close to forty, maybe. Without looking at anyone she sat next to Sally, pushed up the sleeves of her black turtleneck, and opened her laptop. Runner or swimmer, Georgia thought. Hard to tell which.
Sally glanced in the direction of the newcomer and then continued. “That’s great. What else?”
“We treat our customers fairly,” someone said.
“Yes,” Sally agreed. “Thank you. Just our customers?”
&nbs
p; “And our partners.”
“Good. And what about each other?” She added ‘partners’ and ‘each other’ to the flip chart. “Anything else? Okay, now let’s see what our leadership team said about Integrity.” She hit the button on her computer, and phrases came floating in one after the other:
We are truthful and candid.
We do what is right and ethical.
We treat each other, our customers and shareholders with fairness, dignity and respect.
“It’s a pretty close match, isn’t it? This group has good instincts.” She rewarded them with a soft smile. “The leadership team added a couple of things. ‘Dignity and respect.’ Very important. And ‘shareholders.’ We don’t want to forget about them. Good. That’s the first core value. We’ll look at these periodically throughout the day. At the moment, let me introduce Andrea Hancock, who’s in charge of Research and Development . . .”
A man in his fifties swung the door wide and entered the room. He was about 5'9", Georgia guessed, square and solid like a fireplug, wearing an expensive-looking black suit and red tie. He had the jowly, florid face of a middle-aged man who makes a half-hearted effort to control his weight. His forehead was elevated in a look of chronic skepticism, like he knew whoever he was talking to was full of shit and he intended to catch them at it as efficiently as possible.
He surveyed them briefly without enthusiasm, and signaled to Sally with a curt nod of his head.
“Class,” Sally beamed with excitement, “we are very honored to have our CEO, Roy Zisko, take time from his terribly busy schedule to speak to us this morning. Roy?” He remained standing, feet planted apart, and consulted his watch, while Georgia and everyone else leaned forward in anticipation.
“Good morning,” he said briskly, his small dark eyes glowering at them over the rims of his oval glasses. “As you may have been told, you’re the first new hires since I joined Lumina just over a year ago. On the day I arrived, I initiated a hiring freeze as one of many strict cost-cutting measures, which also included eliminating the lowest ranked 20 percent of our workforce. You’re here today because those cost-cutting measures have been effective, and because your departments have now convinced themselves they cannot function without you.” He shrugged. “We’ll see. I consider each of you an experiment in productivity, and, of course, inevitably, some experiments fail.” Wait, was he glaring at her? Did she look unproductive? She squared her shoulders and gazed straight back at him, her mouth arranged in a pleasant, attentive smile. After a moment, his glare moved on to the woman with orange hair.