Hope caught him looking at Lexi and made introductions. “How rude of me. Lexi this is Scott.”

“Stan,” the guy quickly corrected her.

“Sorry. Lexi, this is Stan. Stan, this is my best friend, Lexi.” Hope leaned out of the way so Lexi could shake his extended hand.

“Hi,” Lexi said shyly.

“Hello, Lexi. It’s very nice to meet you.” In an effort to appear suave, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, causing Lexi to blush.

Hope turned her back to Stan and rolled her eyes so only Lexi could see. “So, tell me about your day.”

Lexi tried not to laugh at Hope’s reaction to Stan, then sighed. “My feet hurt, I have a headache, one of the partners tried to hit on me, I met the biggest bitch alive, and,” she said with an embarrassed grin, “I’m really hoping you saved those help wanted ads for exotic dancers, because I think

that’s my best bet for getting a job now.”

“So, you’re a dancer?” Stan’s head popped over Hope’s shoulder, his interest now piqued. He definitely looked like the type of guy who would have a wad of singles and a favorite table at the local gentlemen’s club.

“Listen, thanks for the drink, but my friend and I have a date, so I’ll see you around,” Hope said curtly, flashing him a fake but brilliant smile.

Stan stood up and flipped a twenty onto the bar to cover the drinks. “Can I get your number?” he asked as he leaned in to kiss Hope on the cheek, not picking up on the major brush-off.

“No, you most definitely can’t. But have a nice evening.” Hope didn’t even wait to watch him slink away. Instead, she turned in her seat and gave Lexi her full attention. “Okay, it couldn’t have been that terrible. I want to hear everything.”

Lexi caught the eye of the bartender. “Chardonnay, please.” She gave him a weak smile then launched into the story of her interviews. “Where should I start?”

“I want to hear about the bitch first, then we’ll work our way to the creepy guy hitting on you.”

“The bitch it is. Well, I went to that place, Parketti Associates, to interview for the secretarial position we found. It was a beautiful office, extravagantly decorated down to the ornate, polished doorknobs, but the company was on the small side, I think twenty-five people, all women.

Adria was the person who interviewed me, and she was the nastiest person I’d ever met, male or female. It felt more like an FBI interrogation than an interview. All that was missing was the bright light shining in my face.”

Hope scowled. “What in the world did she ask you about?”

“What didn’t she ask me? Why did I drop out of college; why didn’t I ever go back; why didn’t I at least take night classes at a community college?

Did I have any self-respect? She even had the nerve to ask if Harry left me a big inheritance when he died. Can you believe it?” Lexi shook her head and took another sip of her rapidly emptying glass.

“What kind of question is that? She needs a smack upside the head, I think. That’s terrible.” Hope gave Lexi’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Are you all right?”

Forcing a smile, Lexi laughed. “I’m fine, thanks. She’s certainly a piece of work. She’s probably one of those insecure people that come at you like a bull in a china shop to keep you from picking up on it. That, or she’s a total bitch, one of the two. Oh, and did I mention she threw me behind the receptionist’s desk and made me man the phones for an hour with absolutely no explanation or orientation? Just ‘here, sit down, and get to work,’

and then she walked away.”

“Get out.”

“I think I hung up on three people, and somehow, when I was trying to get an outside line to return a call, I’m pretty sure I called Germany.” Lexi started giggling. “I didn’t know if I should hit zero, one, or nine to get an outside line, so I hit them all, and then dialed. All I know is I heard ‘Guten Tag,’ and then the guy on the line said a bunch of other stuff in German that I didn’t understand.”

Hope laughed out loud. “Let me get this straight—you accidentally called Germany on her dime? I hope you left the phone off the hook.”

“I should have, but I hung up as soon as I realized what I did,” Lexi snickered. “But really, that place was a nuthouse. Then Adria started screaming at one of her employees right in front of me. When I walked away to give them some privacy, she glared at me like I had committed some major sin by exercising some free thought and leaving her side. She wants a lackey, not someone with a brain. So, needless to say, I don’t think Parketti will be calling to offer me a job, and I’m fine with that. I’d sooner work at Hooters.”

Hope got her laughter under control and began tapping her nails on the smooth bar top. “Now, tell me about this guy that hit on you.” The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement.

“Stop laughing. It was creepy, not funny.” Lexi shuddered. “It was the first interview this morning—at Reid Inc., the one in the Transamerica Building?

The office was bigger than Parketti. They probably had closer to a hundred employees, and the office was decorated in that ultra-chic minimalist style.”

“Ugh, I hate that. Everything is pale and white. No thanks. So, tell me about the guy.”

“I’m getting to it. So, the whole office was stark, bare walls and everything, except right when you step off of the elevator there is this huge portrait of a guy standing beside a chair with one hand resting on the back of it, and the other firmly planted on his hip. He looked like Henry the Eighth or something in one of those regal poses.” Lexi snickered at the memory.

Hope’s brow wrinkled. “Define huge.”

Lexi chuckled. “Floor to ceiling portrait … larger than life.”

“Someone’s in love with themselves.” Hope rolled her eyes and drank the last sip of wine from her glass. “So, did the guy in the portrait hit on you?”

she asked sarcastically as she gave the bartender the high sign for another drink and waved at Lexi’s nearly empty glass too.

Lexi’s cheeks turned red. “Yes,” she answered so softly Hope almost missed it.

“What?” Hope gasped and started coughing as she choked on her wine.

“While I was interviewing with the woman in human resources, there was a knock on the door and in walks the guy from the giant portrait. I almost started laughing when he stood behind the poor woman’s chair and assumed almost the identical pose from the painting.”




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