Two

Blair

Without waiting for a reply from either myself or the stunned receptionist, Lucy spun on one perfectly balanced heel and strode away briskly. For a second, I stood there, unsure of what to do until Sadie gave a light nudge.

“Go on,” she gestured with her head in towards Lucy’s retreating back, handing me a visitor’s pass. “Good luck.”

With muttered thanks, I hung the ribbon around my neck and hustled after Lucy, ignoring the jarring pain that dogged my every step. My sneakers, once pristine but now ragged and grimy, made a squeaky sound on the floor in tandem with Lucy’s clatter, the sounds echoing off the white walls of the hallway.

My mind raced with a million thoughts as I caught up with her, hope clashing with trepidation as to what she wanted from me. I blinked as we passed through and entered a brightly lit open office space furnished with floor to ceiling windows and skylights that let in the natural light in addition to the dozens of artificial lighting on the ceiling. Rows of standing desks and work tops with computer monitors and lab equipment lined the center of the room, shelves lined the non-glass walls, as well as industrial sinks for cleaning up specimens.

One of the windows was actually a door that led to what appeared to be an outdoor recreation area, picnic benches placed under the shades of dwarf trees, the neatly mowed lawn looked so inviting that I wanted to go over there and just sit and gaze into space.

People in white lab coats over their work wear milled about, looking busy or standing at desks, their attention fixed on monitors. There was a quiet buzz that died down as people halted their tasks to cast curious glances in our direction and I became painfully aware of the picture I presented with my swollen face, arm sling and badly dyed hair.

At least, I was thankful that my outfit, a light blue shirt tucked into black pants, looked okay. Even though they were a bit rumpled from being stuffed in my backpack,these clothes were, after all, handpicked from exclusive designer shops, one of the few remnants of my previous life.

My anxiety level, already high, ratcheted up at the unwanted attention. I lowered my head to let the curtain of hair fall over my face, obscuring my face. Not that it would be exactly easy for anyone to recognise me, what with the condition I was in, still I wasn’t taking any chances.

I heaved a quiet sigh when we passed through and headed towards a corner office. Lucy pushed open the door and stepped aside, ushering me into an elegantly decorated office, the white, black and silver decor, matched its owner’s personality to a tee.

“Have a seat.” She waved a manicured hand towards the twin white chairs in front of a huge black desk and shut the door. I eyed both seats, then chose the one slightly facing the door, subtly angling it so I had a direct line to the exit. Carefully lowering my frame into the white leather, I set my bag between my legs, suppressing a wince of pain.

Lucy crossed to sit behind her desk, laced her fingers together and studied me for a minute. I resisted the urge to shrink under her gaze and forced myself to meet her eyes. The action seemed to satisfy her, glossy red lips quirked in what passed for a smile.

“May I have your resume?” She held out a hand, still holding my gaze.

I quickly fished it out of the envelope and placed it in her grasp. She leaned back against her seat as she read, while I waited, a mass of nerves.

“You have a degree in Biochemistry?”

“Yes,” I replied, shifting in my seat. “From Kingsley University.” I waited, holding my breath.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Kingsley? Nice.” She carried on reading for a bit then looked up. “Your last place of employment was in New Orleans as well. Is that where you grew up?”

“Yes. I licked my lips, resisting the urge to rub my sweaty palms on my pants leg. I was reluctant to give out too much information about myself and talking about my life in New Orleans made me nervous. “I was born and raised there, decided to stick close to home when choosing a college and I found a job pretty much soon after I graduated.”

What I didn’t add was that I’d only worked at that pharmaceutical company for six months before I quit because my mate didn’t want me to work. Or what I’d been doing in the three years since. With any luck, Ms. Strand wouldn’t try to contact the company for references because that would give away the truth.

“I see.” Again, she gave me that look that missed nothing and I fought to sit still and or fidget. “So, how long have you been in Orange?”

“About two months.” Another detail that was not quite true.

She set down the paper and laced her fingers together again. “May I ask, what made you submit an application to GenPro?”

I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts. “I’ll be honest, Ms. Strand, I could say that I have always admired your company’s dedication to creating drugs, or how you have helped the research and dev industry make great strides in discovery, but that would not be entirely truthful. The thing is, I need a job, I need to be able to provide for myself and I’m willing to do even the most menial task if it means I get paid enough to scrape by.”

Silence reigned while my words sank in and for a moment, I regretted being so honest. Shit, what if she had wanted to offer me a job and my big mouth had just ruined it all? My palms started to sweat and a lump rose in my throat.

“But, I’m a hard worker and a fast learner, and I won’t give you any reason to regret hiring me.”

She remained silent for a moment, and her scrutiny set me on edge. A trickle of sweat traced its way between my breasts, and now I felt almost too hot.

“You’ve done research work before?” She finally asked and I forced myself to relax once more.

“Yes. I worked part time as a research assistant for one of my professors.”

“Good, so you understand what it entails.” she nodded to herself and asked a few more questions about my previous job. I answered truthfully enough, since the information was technically true, only I didn’t include the rather important detail about the real nature of my role there. She didn’t need to know, and since I wasn’t applying for something similar, it didn’t matter anyway.

After she appeared satisfied, a small smile curved her lips and she rose. “Well, the position on offer is normally the sort of fit for an undergrad because it involves a lot of grunt work like proofreading reports for errors, cleaning up after experiments, fetching and carrying, but if you’re intere…”

“I am.” I blurted out in a near shout, then flushed when her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, but, I am interested, please.”

“Okay,” Lucy gave me another small smile and stood, holding out a hand. “Welcome to GenPro, Blair.”

Ignoring my injuries, I bolted to my feet and shook her hand, feeling a lump of emotion building. Tears of relief sprung to my eyes and I blinked to hold them from spilling even as waves of relief swept through my body. This was the first good news I’d gotten in weeks and the thought that I’d soon be able to scrape together a new life brought on a rush of nearly overwhelming feelings.

I didn’t yet know how much I’d be paid, for all I knew it could be less than the minimum wage, but it was eons better than nothing.

“Thank you,” I replied, not caring at how shaky I sounded.

The past month had been bleak and dark, and there had been several times I’d been tempted to just give in to despair, times when I had wanted to give up the fight to survive and let fate have its way and if I’d walked out of this company earlier, I’m not certain I wouldn’t have just given up then.

Now, for the first time, hope blossomed in my chest. I knew I still had a long way to go before I could confidently say I was out of desperation. Matter of fact, until I received my first paycheck, I expected that my living conditions, which consisted of spending the night at homeless shelters and meals at soup kitchens whenever I was lucky enough, would remain the same until I could save up something. But at least, there was finally some light peaking at the end of the tunnel.

I gave Lucy a watery smile, thankful beyond words that this woman had decided to give me a chance, for whatever reason. “Thank you so much, Ms. Strand. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Just do your best, there’s no need for thanks.” The words were uttered in a kind tone. “And please, call me Lucy.”

“Okay.” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “When would you like me to start?” I was ready to start immediately, since it meant that at least I’d be inside, warm and safe from the frigid November chill.

She swept me from head to toe and for the first time, smiled. “Let’s give your body some time to heal. How about next Monday?”