“Yes. Part-time nursing student.”
“How old are you, hon? If you don’t mind me asking. I’m not trying to be rude. Everyone looks younger than me these days, but you look a little older than eighteen or nineteen.”
“I’m twenty-six.”
She taps her lip with her long, hot-pink nail. “Hmm. That manager said you’re a good employee. What sort of hours and work are you looking for?”
I blink, unsure what to make of this conversation. “Um?—”
She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Champagne Goodall.” She sticks her hand out for me, and reflexively I shake it, practically wincing with how firm her grip is.
“Champagne?”
“I know. But what can you do?” She shrugs. “My mother named me that because I’m full of bubbles and sweetness, and her favorite R&B singer, Evelyn King, used Champagne as hermiddle name. Honestly, I think my mother liked the alliteration of it since her name is Chandra.”
I laugh despite myself. “I love that. And I love champagne.”
Not that I’ve had any recently, but when I lived in California, it was something I’d do with my friends because we could get cheap bottles of sparkling wine. That was when I had friends and no debt. I didn’t have family, but I had friends and a job.
“Oh, darling, me too, though I’m more of a vodkawoman now. Anyway, the reason I’m stopping you and chatting your ear off on the street like this is because I’m set to retire in two months, and my boss needs a new assistant.”
My eyebrows take a nosedive, and I point at my chest, more than a little incredulous. “And you think I’d be a good fit for this? You don’t even know me.”
“No, but I see enough to know. Besides, my instincts about people are never wrong, and you need a job.”
“I’m a barista. A checkout girl.”
“You’re also a nursing student, which means you’re smart, organized, efficient, able to multitask, and very capable. All nurses, and baristas for that matter, are.”
“I um. I’m sorry, you’re very kind, and I appreciate what you’re doing?—”
Her expression grows serious and imploring. “Don’t say no. I understand how odd this is, but I promise it isn’t a scam. This is a real opportunity. One you shouldn’t pass up. Our building is just up the block. Why don’t you come with me and meet him?”
I push myself away from the building as I twist my bracelet around my wrist. It’s been a very odd couple of days, and I’m not sure how much more I can take at this point. “Him?”
“Yes. My boss. He’s the one you’d work for.”
“I already told you I’m a student, and I have clinical hours with that, even if my classes are online.”
“And what are those hours like?” she presses.
“Mondays and Wednesdays from seven to noon.”
She waves me away. “Oh, that’s nothing. My boss works odd hours, and mornings aren’t his favorite time to be anywhere. Plus, the company offers full benefits, including tuition reimbursement.”
Benefits? Tuition reimbursement? And Champagne is dressed like she just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. If this job pays half as well as she looks, I can likely quit the club and still afford daycare. Still, if something is too good to be true, it usually is.
“Why does this feel like a trap?”
“No trap, and all I’m offering is a meeting with him. How it goes from there is between the two of you. But I will be honest with you. My boss is a bit… eccentric. He’s one of those genius types who is too smart for his own good, but he has a heart of gold. Even if it’s buried a bit beneath his slightly gruff exterior.”
I frown at that, but she quickly pushes on.
“Just meet him and see if it’s a fit for both of you. The people I interviewed yesterday were all wrong, but there’s something about you that feels right.”
“I have no résumé, and I’m dressed, well, like I work in a coffee shop.” I glance down at the black long-sleeved shirt beneath my open coat and slightly stained jeans. I hate wearing black. It makes me feel dark and sinister. I’d much rather be dressed like Champagne in bright colors that exude the happiness I’m desperate to feel.
“Nonsense. You’re beautiful. Besides, he hardly dresses professionally unless forced.”