First Impressions

The ad seemed simple enough. “Help wanted. Full-time work in a professional atmosphere. Duties include but are not limited to…” All that corporate jazz. I wasn’t in love with the work life, but my mom sure wanted me out of the house and working again, so I wore my best suit ready and made an appointment.

I wasn’t really thrilled with the suit. I was more of a dress girl myself, but hey, ‘dress for the job you want.’ And I wanted the job. Living rent-free with my mom sounded great in theory, but the lack of freedom was… restricting. She cooked the meals for the two of us, which was definitely kind, but… I kind of missed having autonomy over my own meals. If I skipped a meal, like a good mom, she’d ask why. Then I’d tell her I had a fast food meal with my friends, and even though she likely didn’t care… some part of me just felt guilty.

Staying out late wasn’t something she forbade, but she was a light sleeper and I was kind of clumsy. I’m sure if I asked, I could bring a boyfriend or something over, but… yeah. If you know, you know. There was no way in hell I was doing that while I still lived with her.

I wanted my own place, living in the city by my own means. And she wanted me to make good use of my business degree. So, here I was, at Parallax Systems, with precisely zero previous work in the office industry, looking up at the several-stories-tall building, doing my best not to get cold feet.

Like all office buildings, the place was a maze, though luckily a helpful worker at the front of the building gave me the directions where to go. It was one of those buildings that had several corporations in it, so I had to go through several hallways and two elevators just to find my way.

At the end of the last hallway, I saw a window into another room with the blinds down. The window read, “Parallax Systems: The Optimal Solution.” God knows your business would fail if your tagline actually included what you sell. Giving a sharp exhale and clearing my throat, I opened the door to find a waiting room of sorts, with some kind of secretary typing away.

Like me, she was wearing a grey suit, but unlike me, it complimented her black skin beautifully. I was always a little embarrassed of my paleness – it seemed like no matter how hard I tried to tan, I’d either remain painfully white or get badly burned. She had a kind of stern face when she typed, but the rest of her was hidden behind her computer and desk. Upon seeing me, her stern face disappeared, revealing instead a dazzling smile that almost made me think she was in the wrong industry.

“Hello there! I assume you’re Rachel?”

I smiled. “Yes, I am!”

“Hi, I’m Jennifer. Welcome to Parallax! Mr. Laurent is just finishing up a meeting right now, but he’ll buzz me as soon as he’s done. Would you care to take a seat?”

“Oh,” was all I said in response. I could get flustered easily, and it was clear this poor woman had to do a lot of PR work given her professional voice. I walked over to the chairs on the other side of the room and sat down, playing with my thumbs.

I think I just wanted to be distracted by anything rather than thinking about the upcoming interview, but Jennifer was distractingly attractive. God knows I wasn’t thinking about it for any reason other than jealousy – I didn’t swing that way – but she was the type of person who was definitely a headturner.

I know everyone goes crazy for blue eyes, and call me a self-hater, but I wasn’t crazy about my own blue eyes. Blue eyes just didn’t do it for me. Jennifer’s were a beautiful light brown, the rare kind of eyes you only see once a year or something, the kind that make you stop in your tracks and say, “Woah.” My own blond hair was done up hastily in a kind of ponytail, but Jennifer had these natural braids going on that drove me wild with envy. They looked so good on her that I began to feel as though I should have spent more time on my hair, in case this was a thing Mr. Laurent liked in his employees or something.

I frowned and looked down. It probably was not helping my confidence to keep comparing myself to this woman, especially a woman already working for Mr. Laurent, and trying to look for differences. Something in the air was making me nervous. It was likely the impending doom of the interview coming up, but… if felt like there was something else going on.

Was it the temperature? No, it wasn’t too hot or anything. The place had that ‘corporate air conditioner’ vibe to it, where it was slightly colder than it probably should have been, but not cold enough to be bothersome. Well, if it wasn’t the temperature, what could it have bee-

“Oh, by the way, did you happen to bring a second copy of your resume with you?” Jennifer interrupted me out of nowhere.

I shifted in my seat. “Uh, no, should I have?”

“No, no, it’s okay. I was just thinking, perhaps to help you out, I could look over your resume before the interview began, just in case there’s something I know Mr. Laurent will point out or something.” She flashed me another smile. “Just looking out for you!”

“Oh, that’s s-sweet,” I replied. What was wrong with me? “Are y-you sure? I don’t want to distract you from your work.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me!” she replied, smiling warmly. “I’m, uh, actually nearly finished my workload for the day.”

I looked at the clock, then back at her. “It’s not even lunch yet!”

She chuckled and gave me another dazzling smile. “What can I say? My hands know how to get the job done.”

The way she said it wasn’t suggestive or anything, just said factually, but I could feel myself blushing. I could be a little crowd-shy at times, but I never got this flustered usually. What was I on?

I turned away to my tote bag, hoping to hide my face from her until my blushing went away, and retrieved my resume from my bag. “I just have the one, but if you want, we could go over it, if you want.”

She smiled at me, clearly used to flustered behavior from interviewees. “Sounds like a plan,” she laughed. “May I see it?”

I handed the paper to her, for some reason deciding to avoid looking her in the eye. I needed my iconic steely resolve that everyone totally knew me for, so I couldn’t spend it frivolously on anyone but my interviewer.

She smiled and raised her eyebrows at me as she took the paper, accidentally touching one of my fingers in the process. For whatever reason, I retracted my hand and went quickly to sit back down, leaving her to look over my resume while I sat, waited, and moved my thighs together in my seat.

After a few seconds, she lifted her head to where she thought I was, then confusedly looked over to where I was. A confused expression still painted on her face, she half-chuckled at me. “Don’t you want to go over this together?” she asked me, a melodic tone to her voice.

“Uh… oh,” I mumbled, getting up, squeezing my legs together subconsciously. “Yeah, of course.” I walked over to her, leaning against the desk and craning my neck so I could get a better view.

Of the resume. The resume. Don’t get me wrong, from my point of view, it would have been all too easy to get a look down her suit jacket if I wanted to, but this was a professional work environment, she might have been a future coworker, and plus, I wasn’t into girls.