Page 61 of Love Me Ever After
I shook both their hands in turn, mumbling polite greetings before taking my seat. My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the water on the table. Where the fuck had those nerves come from?
“Right, I think we’re good to make a start.” Gareth shuffled his papers, picked up his pen and started asking questions.
The majority of the inquisition was as expected. The usual kind of things about client relationships, managing objections, handling difficult people. These were the sort of things I schooled my own candidates in and my answers came smoothly. Then the interview took a turn towards the more personal side of things, and instantly I floundered.
“Mason, I see you’re currently with our Bristol office in the UK,” observed Sandrine. “This would be a big move for you.”
“That’s right.” I stalled for time, sipping some more water. At this rate, I was going to have to ask to leave the room for a piss. “I did a secondment here,” I added.
Sandrine arched a brow as if the answer was obvious. “This would be a permanent job. What would that mean you’d have to leave behind? Family? Friends? A wife?”
I almost snorted at the thought of a wife. “My parents are in Spain, have been for some time. I think they’d like the opportunity to come out and visit. They didn’t get the chance when I was here before.”
“I assume the same would apply to your friends,” commented Frank. “And what about a significant other? How do they feel about your potential move out here?” He didn’t look up when he asked the question. I sensed he wasn’t all that interested in the answer. As I really didn’t know how to respond, it was probably a good thing.
Hating myself for what I was about to do, I began. “I’ve been seeing someone on and off, but it’s not serious. They’re not committed to making a move, so if I were to be successful, I would likely end up coming out alone.”
The older man nodded and wrote something down on his notepad. I suspected it was something likecommitted to the job, doesn’t have a personal life, possible workaholic.
Guilt at dismissing what I had with Ems as nothing punched me in the chest. I knew I was only saying what they wanted to hear, but it wasn’t how I felt any longer.
Maybe New York wasn’t what I wanted any longer.
The panel asked a few logistical questions to round out the interview, each of which I answered with ease. I wondered what they would report back to Janine at the end of the day.
“Do you have any questions for us?” asked Gareth. “Given you spent some time here, you’ve already seen us warts and all.”
“How long before you make a decision?” Honestly, I could have come up with something better.
Frank answered. “We should know something by the end of next week. If we have to look at sponsorship and green cards, we’ll move pretty quickly after that.”
“Great, thanks. It’s been good to come back and meet you all again.”
“You too, Mason. We’ll be in touch.” Gareth stood up, signalling the end of the interview.
I said my goodbyes and shook hands with everyone again.
When I got outside of the boardroom, I felt like I could finally breathe once more.
I had nothing else to do after my interview, except say goodbye to Whit, then head to the hotel and pack. Hours of hanging around JFK beckoned. I wondered if I could wangle my way into the Executive Lounge and have a nap.
Whit came out to reception. “I wish you were staying longer. We could have had a good night out tonight. Maybe added to your tattoo collection.” She winked, then wrapped me in a huge hug. “Hope to see you again soon, buddy. Even if it’s over video call with your girlfriend. That’s assuming she’ll ever let you speak to me again.”
I laughed. “I’m sure she will.” Hopefully Whit didn’t see I had my fingers crossed when I said that. “I’ll message you when I’m back in the office.”
She gave me one last hug, then I left. On the way back to the hotel, I stopped in a shop for a takeaway bagel and a coffee. My stomach had been in knots for most of the day, but now I was starving. When I got back to my room, I wolfed the bagel down in about three bites and drained the coffee, wincing at the strength of it.
There seemed little point in packing too neatly. I’d send my suits to be dry cleaned when I got home and there wasn’t much else because I hadn’t been here for long. Changing into jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie to travel in, I shoved everything else into my suitcase.
Logging into my Uber app, I requested a car to the airport. My flight wasn’t until half past nine that evening, which gave me several hours to wait there even if there was heavy traffic on the drive. It was better than waiting in a hotel lobby though. Making sure I had everything, I checked out and went downstairs. The Uber arrived within ten minutes.
“What time’s your flight, bud?” the driver asked, tossing my suitcase into the trunk. “There are delays on the bridge.”
“Ah, we’ve got plenty of time. I don’t need to check in until half seven at the earliest.”
That was in two hours. Even with a delay, we should make it with time to spare.
“Good, good. Let’s head off.”
