by Ramona Gray
“No, oh no,” she whispered.
She chewed at her bottom lip before leaning forward and kissing Mama J on her wrinkled cheek. “I have to go but I’ll be back tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about my job interview, okay?”
The old woman ignored her and Jane kissed her again before gathering her things. She stopped at the nurses’ desk and Tanya gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Jane.”
“Five hundred dollars. It’s going up five hundred dollars a month?” Jane whispered. “Why?”
“It’s gone up for everyone,” Tanya said. “All the residents received the same notice.”
Jane didn’t reply and Tanya squeezed her arm. “My sister works for another care home on the west side of the city. It isn’t as nice as this one but Josephine will receive good care. They have a waiting list but if you put your name in now, you might - ”
“No,” Jane interrupted. “I don’t want to move her. I’ll find the extra money each month.” She gave Tanya a small smile. “I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
She hurried out of the nursing home and walked down the street toward the bus stop. There was a bitterly cold wind blowing and she zipped up her jacket and hunched her shoulders as she waited for the bus. The temperature had plummeted last week and her thin jacket did nothing to keep her warm. She should have bought the winter coat she saw at the thrift store tonight but she’d had just enough cash to buy the suit. She knew how lucky she was to have found it but it cost her twenty-three dollars to buy it. She had three dollars and thirty-seven cents left in her bank account and payday wasn’t for another three days. The money she’d spent on the suit had been earmarked for some ramen noodles and maybe a package of ground beef. With it gone, she had nothing but a loaf of bread and half a jar of peanut butter to tide her over until payday.
You’ll make some tips tonight.
Yeah, she would, but she needed the tip money to pay her cell phone bill and buy a bus pass. The phone bill was due tomorrow and her bus pass expired in two days. She couldn’t afford to give up either. The care home needed to be able to contact her and she couldn’t exactly walk to work. The office building was downtown and she lived in the section of the city the wealthy liked to refer to as the Badlands.
Hey, Janie? Not to interrupt but how exactly are you going to pay the extra five hundred a month? You’re barely making ends meet as it is, her inner voice asked nervously.
The new job. She would ace the interview tomorrow, get the position as Mr. Dawson’s assistant and the pay increase would cover the five hundred dollars. She wouldn’t be getting ahead like she thought she would but that didn’t matter. What mattered was keeping Mama J where she was safe and happy. She owed her that.
The bus stopped in front of her and she boarded it, feeling a numb gratefulness for the heat that washed over her. She chose a seat near the back, leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. Her shift at the club started in half an hour and she was already tired. She rubbed at her forehead before sticking her hands between her thin thighs to try and warm them. Maybe it wouldn’t be busy at the club tonight and she could go home early. She always let one of the other girls go home – she couldn’t afford to leave early and miss out on potential tips – but she would need the extra sleep if she was going to ace that interview tomorrow.
Chapter 2
At exactly 8:13 the next morning, Jane stepped into the elevator. She pushed the button for the thirty-seventh floor and smoothed her suit jacket down. She could see her reflection in the shiny walls of the elevator and she cringed a little. The suit really was much too big on her and she supposed she should have chosen something that fit her. But to find a Dawson suit in a thrift store was a bloody miracle and Maria had said that wearing something from their clothing line would make a good impression on Mr. Dawson. She squared her shoulders and leaned forward to check her make-up. She was wearing a minimal amount - only a bit of mascara and a touch of berry coloured lip gloss. After the layers of make-up she wore at the club all night, she liked to give her skin a break. She was starting to second guess her decision though. Most of the women here wore tailored suits and their make-up was flawless. That’s probably what Mr. Dawson was expecting.
It was too late now. The elevator doors were opening and she quickly checked for any stray strands of hair that might have fallen from the twist before stepping out of the elevator. As the president of the company, Mr. Dawson had an office on the top floor of the building. He shared it with a few other executives, including some of the designers and her own current boss Mark.
She smiled at the blonde woman sitting behind the desk in the reception area. “Hello, my name is Jane Smith. I have an appointment at eight-thirty with Mr. Dawson.”
“Have a seat, please. He’ll be with you shortly,” the woman said without looking up from her computer screen.
“Could you tell me where the ladies’ room is?” Jane asked.
The woman pointed down the hall and Jane quickly walked to the bathroom. She slipped into the handicap stall, hung the jacket on the hook on the door and used the toilet. She adjusted the two clothespins she was using to keep the waistband of the skirt closed around her waist and leaned against the wall for a moment. She took a few deep breaths before murmuring, “You can do this, Jane.”
She stepped away from the wall, her eyes widening when she felt the resistance and heard the ripping noise. She peered over her shoulder and cried out with dismay. A second hook was positioned lower on the wall she was leaning on. It had caught in the rip in her skirt and tore it even more.
“Shit!” She muttered and unsnagged the fabric from the metal hook before hurrying out of the stall. She turned and peered at her ass in the mirror before groaning.
“No, no, no,” she whispered. The rip was so large that she could see the edge of her underwear and the length of her nylon-clad thigh. There was no way the suit jacket would cover it.
“Think, Jane!” She said fiercely as she held the ripped edges together. Maybe she could ask the receptionist for some tape. She could tape it together.
Tape isn’t going to stick to the fabric, you idiot!
“Oh God,” she moaned. She checked her watch. It was 8:17. She had exactly thirteen minutes to fix her wardrobe malfunction.
“Stapler! I can staple it together!” She said loudly. “Just staple it and - ”
“Honey, stapling isn’t going to help.”
She shrieked and whirled around. A tall, chubby woman with long blonde hair and light blue eyes was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She smiled at Jane before crouching in front of her. She examined the rip as Jane gave her a look of panic.
“I – I have an interview with Mr. Dawson in,” she glanced at her watch, “eleven minutes and I ripped my skirt! Could you do me a huge favour and ask the receptionist if I can borrow her stapler?”
“I told you, stapling isn’t going to work,” the woman replied. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder blouse with a long skirt and there was a tape measure slung around her neck. She rummaged in the pocket of her skirt and produced a small plastic box of pins. “Luckily for you, I have some dress pins with me.”
“Oh, thank God,” Jane breathed. “Are you – do you work in the design department?”
“Something like that,” the woman replied with a grin. “Hold still, honey.”
She knelt and stuck her hands up Jane’s skirt. The bead bracelets around her wrists jingled as she pinned the skirt closed with practiced ease. She stood and studied her handiwork. “There, that should work. As long as you don’t do jumping jacks in the interview.”
Jane turned and stared at the rip. It was still obvious that there was a tear in the fabric but neither her underwear nor her thigh was showing and the jacket would cover the worst of it.
“Thank you so much, I really appreciate this,” Jane said as she grabbed the suit jacket from the stall. The woman eyed the clothespins around the waistband of her skirt as Jane pulled on the jacket and buttone
d it. It hung from her small frame and she tried to adjust it as the woman watched.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but your outfit is way too big.”
“I know,” Jane said.
“So why are you wearing it?”
“It’s my only suit.”
“Did you order it online from the website? Because we have a super easy return policy.”
“No, I bought it at a store.”
“The sales lady really should have made you try on a smaller size,” the woman said with a low laugh.
Jane blushed as dull embarrassment went through her. The woman frowned and touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. You look lovely, really.”
“I don’t,” Jane said miserably. “I know I don’t but I was told that wearing one of the Dawson suits would give me a better shot at getting the job. I really need this job. You have no idea how much I need it.”
She stared at the floor in embarrassment. “Only, Dawson suits are so expensive and I really couldn’t afford one but then I found this at a thrift store. I figured wearing a Dawson suit that was a little too big was better than not wearing one at all.”
She gave the woman standing in front of her a despondent look. “I look stupid.”
“You don’t,” the woman said. “A little pale, maybe, but not stupid.”
She grasped Jane’s shoulders and straightened her. “Now, chin up and shoulders back. Look confident, act confident and you’ll do fine in the interview. Don’t let him intimidate you. His bark is worse than his bite, okay?”
“Okay,” Jane said. “Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck, honey.”
Jane smiled at her and walked carefully back to reception. A woman was standing next to the desk chatting with the receptionist and she looked Jane up and down. A flicker of amusement crossed her face and Jane blushed again. The woman was wearing a Dawson suit as well but it was from the latest line and fit her perfectly. The dark green complimented her tanned skin and blonde hair beautifully and she was tall with lush curves. Jane crossed her arms over her small breasts and tried to stand a little taller as the woman smiled at the receptionist.
“Will you please tell Mr. Dawson that it was a pleasure meeting with him today and I look forward to working with him?” She gave Jane another quick look before heading to the elevators.
“Follow me please, Miss Smith.”
Jane followed the receptionist through the maze of hallways. At the end of one were two large double doors with an alcove in the wall just outside of them. A medium-sized desk and two filing cabinets were tucked into the alcove. The receptionist knocked before opening one door. Jane took a deep breath and walked into the office. She jumped a little when the door closed behind her and cleared her throat. Her palms were sweating and her knees were literally knocking together from fear.
Mr. Dawson stood up from behind his desk and she walked toward him and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Dawson. I’m Jane Smith.”
“Good morning, Ms. Smith,” he said politely.
A shiver went down her spine when his large hand swallowed hers. She stared wide-eyed at him for a moment. He was handsome, she knew that from seeing him at the staff meetings, but this was the closest she’d ever been to him and a weird weakness was stealing through her limbs. His dark hair was cut short and he had clear blue eyes and tanned skin. Despite the earliness of the day, dark stubble covered his square jaw and his wide shoulders filled out his suit jacket perfectly.
She realized she was still holding his hand and dropped it, wincing when he discreetly wiped his hand against his suit jacket. They stood in awkward silence for a moment and she tried to remember to stand straight when his gaze swept down her body.
“Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Dawson.”
“Please, have a seat,” he said.
She sank into the leather chair in front of his desk and made a loud squeal and jerked wildly when one of the dress pins holding her skirt together punctured her right ass cheek.
* * *
Luke frowned when the woman sat in the chair and squealed loudly. Her thin body jerked in her too-big suit and her pale face turned even whiter. She stared at him with wide eyes, her lower lip trembling and her hands squeezing the arms of the chair.
“Ms. Smith? Are you okay?”
“Fine. I – I’m fine,” she gasped out. Sweat was beading up on her brow and she chewed at her bottom lip as he studied her.
“Are you?”
“Yes,” she said. She shifted in the chair and a flicker of pain crossed her delicate features before she straightened her shoulders and sat perfectly still.
“Right,” he said. There was a file folder on his desk and he opened it and produced her resume. He studied it for a moment before looking up at her. “You work in the finance department currently.”
“Yes, that’s right,” she said softly. “Kyla is my supervisor.”
“Why do you want to leave finance?” He asked.
“I feel I would be better suited to admin work,” she said.
“You don’t have any admin experience on your resume,” he said. “Just waitressing. Did you graduate from college?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Graduate high school?” He asked even though he could see it on her resume.
She flushed deeply before nodding. “Yes, of course. I was planning on taking the administrative assistant program at one of the community colleges but, uh, circumstances happened and I, uh, needed to find a job rather quickly. I waitressed for a few years until I applied for the data entry job here at Dawson’s Clothing.”
“Why did you want to work for Dawson’s Clothing?” He asked.
“Well, I’d been looking for an office job and I have an interest in fashion,” she said.
“An interest in fashion,” he repeated. His eyes dropped to her suit jacket. It drooped on her thin frame and the sleeves were so long they nearly covered her hands. He could see a flush rising up from her chest and she cleared her throat again.
“Yes, I follow a lot of fashion blogs and I – I try to keep up-to-date with the current fashions.”
“Indeed,” he said. The woman was wearing a Dawson suit but it was from a line they had discontinued and the drab grey colour did nothing for her. Sweat was starting to drip down her temple and she wiped it away as he continued to study her. She was much too thin with dark shadows under her eyes. The way her collarbone jutted out and the sharpness of her cheekbones indicated a possible eating disorder. Her hair was a mousey-brown colour but her eyes were a rich, dark brown and she had incredibly long lashes. Her skin was pale but flawless and she had nice, full lips. She was actually rather pretty, he mused inwardly, if you looked past the exhaustion etched across her face.
“I work long hours and can be demanding of your time as well. Are you prepared for that, Ms. Smith?”
She nodded. “Yes, absolutely.”
“You’ll be expected to do some personal errands for me as well. Will that be an issue?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. I’m ready to do whatever it is you need,” she said. She shifted in her chair and another flash of pain flared in her eyes. “My time is flexible.”
She cast her eyes to the left as she spoke and he sighed irritably. The woman was lying to him. Why, he didn’t know, but did it really matter? She was obviously not suited for the job. She was a scared little rabbit and he needed an assistant who wouldn’t cower in fear when he spoke to them. It wasn’t in his nature to be nurturing or patient. He’d spend his valuable time handing the little bunny rabbit in front of him tissues for her inevitable bouts of sobbing instead of getting his work done. It was better to leave her in Mark’s department. He had an easy-going nature and all the patience in the world. He glanced at his watch and decided to end the torture for both of them.
“Well, thank you for coming in to meet with
me, Ms. Smith. It was a pleasure.”
Her lower lip began to tremble again and he watched with mute horror as tears welled up in her eyes. “I – the interview is finished?”
“Yes,” he said briskly as he inwardly prayed she wouldn’t burst into tears. “Thank you for your time. Maria will be speaking with you in a few days.”
He stood but she continued to sit, clutching at the arms of the chair as she stared up at him with a look of desperation that made his stomach clench oddly.
“Mr. Dawson,” she said anxiously, “I know I – I don’t have much experience but - ”
“You have no experience,” he interrupted.
“Yes, right, but I promise you that I’m a quick learner and a hard worker. If you hire me, I won’t let you down. I’ll do whatever you ask of me and I – I won’t complain about the long hours or hard work. Please, Mr. Dawson, I’m asking you to give me a chance. I’ll make a great assistant, I really will.”
He was growing increasingly uncomfortable by her begging and he cleared his throat loudly. “Ms. Smith, I have a very busy day so…”
She slumped in her chair and then stood, wincing a little as she did. She blinked rapidly, holding back the tears with obvious effort.
“Of course,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. It was a pleasure to meet you today, Mr. Dawson.”
She held out her hand and kept her gaze on his chest as he gave her hand a brief shake.
“You as well, Ms. Smith.”
She nodded and he watched as, limping slightly, she left his office.
* * *
With her ass cheek on fire, her stomach rolling with nausea, and hot tears sliding down her cheeks, Jane hurried down the hallway. She had pooched the interview in the worst way and she desperately wanted to get to the washroom, pull the pin out of her ass and sob for the next twenty minutes. Kyla wasn’t expecting her back from the interview until nine so she had plenty of time to fall apart before going back to work. She had no idea how she was going to pay for the increase in Mama J’s care and she tried to ignore the panic that was fluttering in her chest. She would think of something. She’d get a third job if she had to.