JOHNIt’s like she’s looking right through me. The intensity is almost violating. Her energy is on the ceiling. “What makes you think you’d be a good fit for running a castle? It’s a lot to handle.” She’s not the right fit.“I bet. You’ve got a groundskeeper that doesn’t speak a lick of English, a maid that doesn’t clean behind the art in the corridor. No chef, and no butler. By the looks of it, you’ve also got unpaid bills on your desk, and suitcases under your eyes. You’re in over your head.” I’m slightly surprised she picked up on that, “How do you know I don’t have a butler?”“Because your suit’s not pressed.” She quips. “Even if you were right. What makes you think you could handle it all?” I wonder. “You know what? You’re right. I can’t do this. It’s too much, you’re too much.” Her eyes widen. “Thank you for your time. I’ll see myself out.” Wyatt slings her bag over her shoulder and turns to walk out.Ernie walks in with my next interview. Another old man who looks like he could
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