Shaken out of her thoughts, Addison placed her hands on the edge of the front desk. “Uh, yes, hi. I have an appointment this morning with a Mr….” She quickly removed the papers from her pocketbook, unfolded them, and glanced at the name. “Mr. or Mrs. Summers.”
“Aiden? It’s a he.” The receptionist’s eyes hooded and a strange smirk clipped the edge of her upper lip, giving her a sweetly devilish look. “He has Quade listed because we have two Aidens here, and it just makes things easier. Anyway, what time was your interview scheduled for?”
“Nine.”
The woman glanced down at her computer and began to type. “Ms. Blue?”
“Yes.” She sniffed, trying to avoid an all-out sneeze. “Addison Blue.”
“Okay Ms. Blue, please fill out this paperwork and Aiden will see you shortly.” The chipper receptionist handed her a clipboard with a mountain of papers. Addison took the bundle and made her way to one of the few unoccupied seats. She sat down, wedged between a woman holding a babbling baby with a staring problem and a man who was breathing hard and heavy through his open mouth. She tried to stay focused as she glanced at the papers, scanning the crap in advance. Page after page was filled with questionnaires, contact information requests, background check permission slips, personal collection data, and even a medical history information sheet. Out of the corner of her eye, to her left, the woman began to bounce the baby up and down on her knee and speak gibberish to the child, cooing and carrying on.
Addison made eye contact with the chubby cheeked little stinker, the tiny tike’s head covered in bright red curls. She offered a watered-down smile to the child, but the baby simply stared at her, unblinking, just looking mad at the whole damn world. She took notice of the child being under-dressed on such a chilly day. Perhaps he was cold and instead of wailing, he found something to focus on. Addison simply wished it had not been her.
A few minutes into filling out the papers, she took note of the heavy breather looking down at what she was writing from the corner of his beady, dark eyes. He crossed his beefy arms over his protruding stomach, which was crammed into an orange T-shirt with some sort of beer-slogan scribbled across it, the damn thing at least two sizes too small. She cleared her throat, hoping that would steer him away, but he remained vigilant, seeming quite interested in her birthday, last place of residence, and place of employment. Having had enough of his shit, she turned to face him. It seemed to take him a second to realize she’d done so, and then they glared at one another.
“May I help you?” she balled her fist, mad at the whole goddamn world, just like the cold baby with the flame colored hair and unblinking, vacant blue eyes. The man simply rolled his eyes, grunted, and turned back towards the television. Looking back down at her paperwork, she continued on. It seemed to be taking forever, each minute passing like a small eternity, another year sliced off her pathetic life.
“Addison Blue?” She heard her name called and raised her head in the direction of the voice. A tall gentleman in a gray business suit called her name from outside an oak wood door which led to an office. His hair was combed in a deliberately messy sort of way, and he sported a neatly trimmed goatee.
“Yes, that’s me.” She stood to her feet and clutched the paperwork to her chest. “I haven’t finished filling this out yet but—”
“Don’t worry about it. You can complete it back in my office.” He waved her over and she followed his lead, thrilled to get away from the heavy breather who smelled like motor oil and corn chips. Once she stepped inside the area, she was surprised to see it was so sunny and bright. The walls were golden with white trim and crown molding, and on them hung neatly placed artwork and motivational posters. Her gaze settled on a large cluster of spacious cubicles, some of which were adorned with floor plants and small decorations. Some employees worked at their desks, and some had clients before them. A number of cubicles sat empty. “Right this way.” She followed the imposing, well-built man, loving the scent of his cologne as it drifted behind his every leisurely step.
He has great taste in clothing… He wears his attire well.
She enjoyed the way he walked, his steps were long and slow—but not too slow.
He had one hand in his pocket, his shirt sleeve raised up ever so slightly, exposing a nice watch. Nothing fancy, but it looked well taken care of; perhaps an object that had been passed down to him. The sounds of copy machines became the soundtrack to their jaunt, along with light chatter here and there. Soon, he veered off towards a spacious cubicle and pulled out a chair for her before going around the desk and sitting on a black chair.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” he said, beginning to type on his computer.
She sat down, feeling a tad like a fish out of water, unsure what to do with her hands and legs. She felt a chill in the room and a host of emotions ranging from anger to confusion birthed inside her, bubbling up like hot chicken broth on a stove. As the man’s fingers flew across the keyboard, she fidgeted in her seat, waiting, her nerves raw. Finally, he turned to her, hands clasped and an amiable smile on his face. His light green eyes twinkled.
“You seem a little nervous.”
“I am.” She broke out into an anxious laugh.
“I don’t bite. Relax.” His lips curled into a smirk. “Everything is going to be fine. Would you like some coffee? Water maybe?”
Taken aback by his pleasantness, she simply cleared her throat and clutched her purse close to her body. “Uh, no, but thank you. I’m fine.”
“Okay.” Moving a few papers around his desk, he peered down at one then looked back into her eyes.
“You’ve been out of the workforce for six years. Why?”
“Well, not completely. I didn’t have a full-time job but I did do some work as a personal trainer, something that gave me a sense of control over my schedule, but no, I wasn’t using my degree or seeking the job that I am after right now.” He nodded in understanding. “I met my husband then got married and continued to do some personal training here and there.”
“Yes, I see you went to college, obtained a degree in…” He paused and looked down at the paper before him. “Speech Pathology. According to these scores, you did well. And I did see you are a certified personal trainer, as you’ve already mentioned, which is great. You worked at a gym?”
“Yes, and I had a few clients who had me go to their homes. I enjoyed it. My husband, I mean, my ex-husband didn’t want me to work full-time. So, I didn’t. That kind of impeded me though, because naturally some clients want to work out several times a week and I missed out on some lucrative gigs. Anyway, I’ve been out of work for so long now that I don’t even know where to begin.” She exhaled deeply.