Page 53 of Delivered to the Devil

A man with a stylish brown haircut, clean-shaven jaw, and eyes as blue as the water gets up from one of the tables to greet me. He’s not much older than me. Maybe early thirties. But he bears himself with the confidence of a man who knows himself and has found his place in life.

When the corners of his mouth tip up in a warm smile, I realize I’m all but beaming. I must look like a child in a candy shop, and that’s how I feel here on the water.

“András Káldy.” He offers me his hand, and the smile lingers at the corners of his eyes. “You must be Rebecca. Thank you for calling.” The English words slip effortlessly off his tongue like he’s been speaking the language for many years.

He looks polished and sophisticated with his black slacks and blue polo that brings out the color of his eyes. He’s clearly well off, but he doesn’t carry his wealth in the same arrogant manner so many other rich men do. Rather, he seems friendly and amiable. Down to earth.

I take his hand, feeling a tinge of heat in my cheeks as I force my grin into a normal, polite smile.

“Please have a seat.” Sitting down at the table, he gestures to the chair across from him. “Tea or coffee?” he asks as he hands me a mug.

“Tea, thanks.” With a careful smile, I take the tea box he hands me and fish out a bag of mint tea.

“I understand you’ve been working for Izsák a bit farther down the river.” He unscrews the lid on a white thermos carafe and pours steaming water into my mug.

I manage to stop the grimace that wants to unfurl over my face at the mention of my former boss. “Yes, half a year or so.” Shame tightens my jaw as I lower my gaze to see the waterdarken as I dunk the tea bag up and down. I hate that I can’t give him a higher number.

“Did you like it? It’s quite a change of profession, I have to say.” He glances down at my resume. “Going from an office job, handling administration.”

“Yes, well…” I meet his eyes again and hesitate.

“I mean, I’m not asking if you liked working for Iszák,” András hurriedly adds. “That man is very difficult to like,” he says half to himself. “I’m asking if you liked the job—working in a restaurant?”

It’s hard not to smile. He seems like a man used to being in charge and must have held many job interviews, yet there’s no stiffness or excessive formality. He speaks straight from the heart instead of bringing each word through a fine-meshed filter.

“Working in an office never really was my thing. But yes, I liked working at the restaurant. At least most of the time. It could be quite monotonous since I was always on clean-up duty.” I bite my lips as I realize my answer might be a bit too honest.

András’s brow furrows. “It’s nothing like that here. We make sure our employees get to rotate. Serve food, help in the kitchen, and serve customers. There’s also clean-up duty, of course. That’s the less fun part. But we’re not hiring a cleaning lady.”

I give him a tentative smile and glance down to break eye contact, then lift my mug to take a small sip of the hot tea. I’m not good at this. But when I look up again, András is watching me with curiosity, a warm smile glinting in his eyes.

“Sorry.” He clears his throat and taps a pen on the table. “You’re just so different than all the other girls who come here.” He averts his gaze to the papers in front of him, then switches back into professional mode as he meets my eyes again. “I’d loveto know more about your office job. What did a normal day look like?”

“Um…” I set the mug down and gaze out at the water as I try to clear my head of the strange interaction. It takes a couple of staggered sentences before I can speak in a fluent stream, telling him about the different administrative tasks, and before long, I find myself relaxing, my hands moving freely as I answer András’s different questions.

He seems pleased by it all, and I have a good feeling. That is, until we get to the language part and I have to profess that I don’t speak Hungarian. It doesn’t seem to be a deal breaker, but even though András clearly likes to hear that I’m fluent in both English and German, he also can’t hide that my lacking Hungarian is a drawback.

When we say goodbye and he tells me I’ll hear from him in a couple of days, the waitress leads a young woman with a friendly smile in. The two women exchange a few words in German before the interviewee greets András in fluent Hungarian.

There goes that job.

***

When I get back to the apartment, I’m on the verge of tears. Half a year ago, I wouldn’t have felt this shitty knowing my chances of getting the job are slim. After all, I did much better than I could have hoped, and the reason I probably won’t get the job is beyond my control. But everything in my life is so hopeless that this is yet another blow to the stomach. And I haven’t even gotten a rejection yet.

I hate my job at Tesco, and the prospect of something better has made me detest it even more. The job on the boat wouldn’t just be better. It would be a tremendous step up. The moment Istepped onto the boat, I knew it was the right place for me. The boss was even nice. And I actually thought I had a shot.

Until that girl came in.

Janos comes into the hall and gives me a once over before taking my hand and leading me into the living room.

“Sit,” he says, pulling out a chair. I drop onto it and slump my shoulders as I stare at the floor, listening to his steps disappear into the kitchen. I stay there, frozen in place, until he returns with a huge portion of food, big enough to feed both of us. Chicken paprikash, I note as the scent drifts through the air, making my mouth water. I love this dish. But when he takes a seat in front of me and holds a spoonful to my lips, I can’t open my mouth. He has fed me like this countless times, but suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. Today, it’s a blaring reminder of all the things I’ve lost—all the control and decisions over my own life. I don’t even get to eat my own food anymore.

“I’m not hungry,” I say, averting my gaze.

“Have you eaten on your way back?”

I shake my head, unable to lie to him despite knowing he’d let me off if I said yes.

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