Justice Blue: Back to Work (continued)

They never start on time, she told herself, really wanting to believe it. The first fifteen minutes was nearly always spent filling out paperwork that, for some reason, asked for information that was already included on her résumé. Much of the time, she suspected that it was a stalling tactic so she in the applicant would not realize that the company was running behind schedule.

She found the correct office number, gave the words on the name plate a cursory glance without really reading them, and stepped inside.

Her first reaction was one of mild disappointment. The décor was modern and tastefully done; there just was not much of it. She had expected an office of such a large, multi-national corporation (even if it was one of their regional offices, and probably inherited as part of an acquisition) to have more . . . stuff in it: artwork, paintings, a display case or two of products or awards, or at least a desk.

In what seemed to serve as the reception area contained little more than a pair of what looked like second-hand loveseats that did not even match. There was a reception counter with the window partly ajar, and Allison thought she heard movement beyond it.

Maybe they’re redecorating?

She walked over to the counter, noting that while the carpet underneath her shoes looked new, it did not look as if it had been cleaned in a while.

Redecorating would explain it, she concluded.

Peering through the narrow opening, she discovered that there was no one seated there.

On break?

Other than for a small number of ballpoint pens, two notepads, and a handful of other scattered objects, it did not look as though anyone had ever been stationed there.

Okay, Allison thought. This is truly weird. She was certain that she had heard voices coming from inside earlier. Construction workers?

She pulled out her phone and confirmed the date and time of the appointment. It was today, at this time, in this building. Then where was everyone?

Taking a chance, she peered through the reception window again, listening hard for any signs of movement or conversation.

“Hello?” she called out, trying to sound polite. When there was no response, she tried again, raising her voice slightly, hoping that she did not sound too annoyed. “Hello? Is there anyone here?”

There came the definite sound of footsteps coming from the back area. A moment later, a young man came into view. While he was definitely not dressed like a construction worker, he was also not wearing the beautifully tailored suit that she would have expected for someone working at this company. His clothes looked clean, fairly new, and definitely stylish, but it was definitely not a suit.

His smile, though, took her completely by surprise. There was something about it that made her kind of melt inside. The term “bedroom eyes” was invented with him in mind, she decided, trying to banish the thought from her mind before it showed in her face.

“I, um,” she started to stammer and then regathered her composure. More confidently, she straightened and announced, “I’m here about the job.”