Read Online Help Wanted by Barbara Valentin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Valentin
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silent but leaned forward and continued to look him in the eye.
After a long pause, he relented. "All right, all right. I'll"—he pulled at the collar of his shirt and winced—"I'll tell her."
Pointing his finger at Dianne, he continued, "But you'd better make damn sure whoever you hire is every bit the writer that Mattie is."
"Actually," Dianne started with a wry smile, "I've got a writer coming in this morning who I believe will be a great fit."
What she didn't say out loud was, "As long as she can cough up a marriage license and her kids' birth certificates."
Lester drew a deep breath in through his nostrils, pressed his lips together, and placed his hands palms down on his desk. "I sure as hell hope so."
Leaning forward, the savvy editor placed both of her hands palms down on his desk and said, "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."
She got up to leave. As she started for the door, she heard Les mumble, "She's gonna make my life a living hell."
Assuming he was referring to his ex-wife, she let the words hang in the air behind her as she walked out of his office.
* * *
Claire arrived at the Gazette building's lobby fifteen minutes prior to her interview. Once there, she paced back and forth, blending in with the sightseers reading the famous quotes on free speech inscribed on the walls. She absorbed the inspiration like a camel does water. So much was riding on the next hour of her life that she could barely swallow. She couldn't even manage any breakfast that morning. Unlike other job interviews in which she would vie for a decent salary and benefits, this position held captive a shot at her dream.
Checking her watch, she drew a deep breath and exhaled. Five minutes later, she found herself standing across the desk from Dianne Devane, a stylishly dressed middle-aged woman who appeared to be in a tremendous hurry. On introducing herself, Claire watched as she stood, extended her hand, and said, "Call me Di. Everyone does."
Claire returned a somewhat awkward "Hi, Di" and sat in the chair facing her desk.
Di spoke as quickly in person as she had on the phone two days earlier.
"So, tell me a little about yourself. Mattie showed me your responses. You know this is a freelance job, right? I mean, it may turn into something permanent down the road, but time will tell. Did you bring a copy of your marriage license and your children's birth certificates?"
Claire leaned forward in her chair and handed Dianne a manila folder containing the requested documents. If Paul didn't embrace the idea of her going on this interview, that she asked where she could find their marriage license probably hadn't helped matters.
While the editor scanned each one, Claire asked, "With all due respect, can I ask why you wanted to see these? Granted, it's been a while since I've been on an interview, but I'm pretty sure I didn't have to provide proof of my marital status nor my children's legitimacy."
Dianne looked at her over the top of her reading glasses. "We just need to make sure the next Plate Spinner we hire is actually married and has kids, that's all. A formality, really."
For a moment, Claire held her breath, afraid the editor would add the caveat, "happily married."
Redirecting her gaze to the documents, Dianne exclaimed with a smile, "Four boys? Really?"
Whew.
"No wonder you're looking for a job outside of the house."
Claire's relief was short lived. Arching an eyebrow, she announced, "Ms. Devane, I'll have you know I've spent the past sixteen years in the corporate sector. My husband is a"—she paused and took a deep breath as if she were about to reveal a drinking problem or gambling addiction—"well, he's the stay-at-home parent."
Dianne's face lit up as she exclaimed, "Even better. We're looking for an authentic Plate Spinner. Someone who's actually slaving away in the working parent trenches day in and day out."
Claire pictured herself in a WWI uniform, carrying a bayonet on one shoulder and
After a long pause, he relented. "All right, all right. I'll"—he pulled at the collar of his shirt and winced—"I'll tell her."
Pointing his finger at Dianne, he continued, "But you'd better make damn sure whoever you hire is every bit the writer that Mattie is."
"Actually," Dianne started with a wry smile, "I've got a writer coming in this morning who I believe will be a great fit."
What she didn't say out loud was, "As long as she can cough up a marriage license and her kids' birth certificates."
Lester drew a deep breath in through his nostrils, pressed his lips together, and placed his hands palms down on his desk. "I sure as hell hope so."
Leaning forward, the savvy editor placed both of her hands palms down on his desk and said, "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."
She got up to leave. As she started for the door, she heard Les mumble, "She's gonna make my life a living hell."
Assuming he was referring to his ex-wife, she let the words hang in the air behind her as she walked out of his office.
* * *
Claire arrived at the Gazette building's lobby fifteen minutes prior to her interview. Once there, she paced back and forth, blending in with the sightseers reading the famous quotes on free speech inscribed on the walls. She absorbed the inspiration like a camel does water. So much was riding on the next hour of her life that she could barely swallow. She couldn't even manage any breakfast that morning. Unlike other job interviews in which she would vie for a decent salary and benefits, this position held captive a shot at her dream.
Checking her watch, she drew a deep breath and exhaled. Five minutes later, she found herself standing across the desk from Dianne Devane, a stylishly dressed middle-aged woman who appeared to be in a tremendous hurry. On introducing herself, Claire watched as she stood, extended her hand, and said, "Call me Di. Everyone does."
Claire returned a somewhat awkward "Hi, Di" and sat in the chair facing her desk.
Di spoke as quickly in person as she had on the phone two days earlier.
"So, tell me a little about yourself. Mattie showed me your responses. You know this is a freelance job, right? I mean, it may turn into something permanent down the road, but time will tell. Did you bring a copy of your marriage license and your children's birth certificates?"
Claire leaned forward in her chair and handed Dianne a manila folder containing the requested documents. If Paul didn't embrace the idea of her going on this interview, that she asked where she could find their marriage license probably hadn't helped matters.
While the editor scanned each one, Claire asked, "With all due respect, can I ask why you wanted to see these? Granted, it's been a while since I've been on an interview, but I'm pretty sure I didn't have to provide proof of my marital status nor my children's legitimacy."
Dianne looked at her over the top of her reading glasses. "We just need to make sure the next Plate Spinner we hire is actually married and has kids, that's all. A formality, really."
For a moment, Claire held her breath, afraid the editor would add the caveat, "happily married."
Redirecting her gaze to the documents, Dianne exclaimed with a smile, "Four boys? Really?"
Whew.
"No wonder you're looking for a job outside of the house."
Claire's relief was short lived. Arching an eyebrow, she announced, "Ms. Devane, I'll have you know I've spent the past sixteen years in the corporate sector. My husband is a"—she paused and took a deep breath as if she were about to reveal a drinking problem or gambling addiction—"well, he's the stay-at-home parent."
Dianne's face lit up as she exclaimed, "Even better. We're looking for an authentic Plate Spinner. Someone who's actually slaving away in the working parent trenches day in and day out."
Claire pictured herself in a WWI uniform, carrying a bayonet on one shoulder and
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