Chapter 4
805 Words
At that point, I was numb. I wished the whole world could pause so I'd not have to witness the aftereffects of my actions.
"I-----"
"Like I said, just please walk back in; I'll come attend to you," he concluded, walking out on me.
I stood still for a couple of minutes, trying to understand what had just happened. I had a choice: either run away or obey his instructions. I hurriedly sent a text message to Maddie, informing her of what had transpired, and walked back in.
Closing the door behind me, a young lady approached me and led me to a room.
"I'm sorry for the ugly scene that just transpired. It was just misinformation," she apologised.
"Oh! It's fine" was all I could say.
"You'll sit in there and wait for Sir. Gareth, he'll be with you shortly."
"Okay, thank you," I appreciated, and I walked into the room.
The room was cold as a result of the many air conditioners that were left on. I slowly walked in, admiring every nook and cranny of the room. Ranging from the properly arranged black couch to how neat the place was, it would be a thing of pride to be a staff member here.
The door knob turned, and Mr. Gareth walked in, finding Alicia staring in fright back at him.
"I thought you were asked to sit?"
"I was lost in admiration of the room."
"That shouldn't be what you should do on your first day of interview," he cautioned, and he walked to the seat allocated to him.
"I'm sorry, Sir." The embarrassment was palpable.
"Please do have a seat," he said, pointing at the seat in front of him.
I sat either way, not like I had a choice.
"First of all, I'm really sorry for keeping you waiting. I had something I needed to attend to," he apologised.
"The least you should have done was tell your secretary that someone would be coming today for an interview," I muttered, hoping I wasn't thinking aloud.
"And yes, I'm sorry. I should have told my secretary of my booked interview with you today," he blurted.
I stared at him in shock, wondering how he was able to perceive my thoughts.
"You should try to not think aloud next time," he advised, and he brought out a file from the drawer.
"Do you care for a bottle of water?" he asked.
"No thank you," I replied, irrespective of the fact that I was thirsty as hell.
"So, I got your application for a job, am I right?"
"Yes," I replied.
"So tell me, Miss Alicia, why do you want to work with us?"
"I----- I-----" I stuttered. There were so many things going on in my mind, and I couldn't bring them together. But the worst of them was how I was receiving a dose of embarrassment from everyone.
"Your profile doesn't tell you you are a stammerer. Are you one?"
"No, sir," I managed to reply.
"Then please speak up." His face still remained calm and showed no iota of disappointment, not anger.
"I'd love to work with you because I perceive your firm to be the best in town, and I know working here would afford me the leisure of learning, meeting people, and improving my skills too."
I wish that sounded good enough, but what good was it anyway? I had already made a joke of myself.
"That's good. You said you'd love to join the Clothing and Textile Unit. Why is that?"
"I'm a fashion designer, sir."
"Okay, good choice. How long have you been doing that?"
"A couple of years now."
"Did you stop at some point?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Why?"
"Personal reasons, sir," I blurted.
"How old are you again?"
"27 years, sir"
For the first time, there was a readable expression on his face, and it read like a surprise.
"Okay, good enough."
There was an intermediary silence that arose as he kept going through my file. At intervals, he nodded in agreement, and at other times, I could ascertain what was going through his mind.
He was one of the most unpredictable people I had ever come across. I tried ascertaining his age, but he didn't look the age I presumed.
"I see you just moved into this city."
"Yes Sir"
"Why?"
"Personal reasons, sir."
"Work-related?"Case for a new environment? Medium to start afresh? Most people who relocate have those reasons in common: "
"All of the above, sir."
"What if you don't get the job? What would you do?"
"Move on"
"And if you do?"
"Accept it, be grateful, start work, and see how I can contribute my quota."
"Okay. Engaged?"
"Single sir
," I felt awkward at the question. Was it part of the criteria for getting the job?
"Children?"
I was tongue-tied.
- Writer
