Page 20 of Domino
“You’ve got a degree in psychology from Georgia?” Keith, the manager of the Golden Gate Diner, asks.
I nod. “I do.”
“No offense, but don’t you think you’re a little overqualified to be waiting tables?”
I bristle at the question but put a smile on my face, which I hope looks more real than it feels. It’s a question I expected, and one I’m reluctant to answer, but I know I need to offer something up.
“I’ve just moved from Georgia and need to get my certifications before I can open my own practice here. And in the meantime, I need a job to pay for my day-to-day life,” I tell him.
It’s not one hundred percent honest or accurate, but it’s close enough. It’s as much as I’m willing to tell him anyway. I’m not going to open up and share my whole life story with the guy.
“I see,” he says.
This is the first job interview I’ve been on since high school, and to say I’m nervous would be understating things in a big way. Keith, the guy sitting across from me is tall, gangly, and looks to be a few years younger than I am. Honestly, with cheeks pocked by acne, he seems like he’s fresh out of high school. And he’s the manager. The guy who is my prospective boss. To say I’m not thrilled with the idea would be yet another understatement. But I need a job, and as the old saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers.
“Do you have any waitressing experience?” he asks.
It’s hard to keep from rolling my eyes, but I manage it. “Yes. As I listed on my résumé, I worked a few summers at a local diner back home.”
He picks up the piece of paper that’s been sitting in front of him this whole time and actually looks at it for the first time. He nods and taps the line I referred to at the bottom of the page.
“Oh yeah. Right there,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” I say, biting my tongue to keep anything else from flying out.
“So, tell me why you think you’d be a good fit here,” he says.
It’s such a trite, ridiculous question that I grit my teeth, somehow managing to keep the smile on my face. But just barely. It’s not that I don’t like Keith or think he’s an idiot. He’s just young. Inexperienced. And seems to be interviewing me based on a list of questions he found online somewhere. It’s nauseating to do it, but his trite questions seem to require trite answers.
“Well, I’m good with people, and I’m a hard worker,” I tell him. “I always do whatever I can to make a person’s experience a pleasant one.”
He nods, no doubt scrolling down the list to the next question in his mind. And so it goes for the next hour, Keith reading off his uninspired list of interview questions, and I give him dry, uninteresting answers. But he smiles like they’re terrific answers, and more importantly, exactly what he wants to hear.
“Well, I think I’ve heard enough. I think you’d be a fantastic addition to the team,” he says
This time, my smile is genuine as the thousand-pound weight I’ve been carrying around is suddenly lifted from my shoulders. It’s not glamorous, and I definitely am overqualified, but I’m not above doing the work. It’s a job, and right now, all that matters is that I have one.
“I’m really glad to hear that. Thank you for the opportunity, Keith. I will not let you down.”
“I have a good feeling about you. So, can you start tomorrow?”
I nod enthusiastically, even though I’m not sure what I’m going to do about Cole. Missy said she’d be more than happy to watch him for me while I’m at work, since she’s already home with the twins. She and Mark are doing so much for me already, and the last thing I want to do is impose on her any further. On the other hand, I don’t know that I’ll be able to do anything by tomorrow morning, so I may need to take her up on her offer as much as I’d rather not. But I need this job, so I’m not really in a position to dictate my hours to Keith right now.
“Yes, of course,” I tell him.
“Great. I’ll see you at eight. I’m going to have you shadowing Nancy tomorrow so you can get a feel for the place and how we do things.”
“Looking forward to it. And again, thank you.”
“Welcome aboard.”
I’m not exactly walking on sunshine as I head out of the diner, but I’m breathing a bit easier. It’s not the greatest gig ever, but it’s a job. And at this point, any income is better than no income, so I’m not going to complain too loudly. Besides, Missy says this is the busiest place in town, so if that’s true, I’ll have a steady stream of money coming in. Fingers crossed.
My mind buzzing as I head for the parking lot, I step around the corner and run face first into a solid wall of flesh. Dancing back a few steps quickly, I look up and find myself staring into the face of the biker I saw from the patio of the coffee house the other day. He doesn’t have his helmet on nor is he wearing those wide, dark sunglasses, but I know it’s him all the same, and I draw in a sharp breath.
The first thought going through my mind is that he’s taller than I imagined he was, seeming to tower over me like a giant, even though he can’t be more than six feet, or six-one at the most. But when you’re only five-four, I guess anybody over six feet seems like a giant.
And the second thought I have is that he’s even more handsome than I realized when I saw him riding by. It’s a thought that makes my face flush with warmth, and all I seem able to do is hope he doesn’t notice how red I’m very likely turning.
