Page 20 of Hot Set

I did, and clasped my hands together in my lap, trying to keep from shaking or bouncing my leg as nervous energy jolted through me.

“So,” Michelle said, folding her hands over her desk, “Tell me about yourself.”

I sucked in a breath of air. I hated that question more than any other because I could never think quickly enough. Although I started strong, I was always inevitably reduced to a rambling mess. I shoved Brandon away from my mind and began talking about myself—my age, my love for art, my educational background. All the things that Michelle had already seen on my resume. After a few seconds, my rambling tapered off, and I waited, searching Michelle’s face for judgement.

“It says in your resume that you concentrated in Renaissance art,” she said, without even glancing at my resume. “What drew you to that?”

I gave a blank stare, trying to devise a clever answer. “I suppose it was the ideas,” I said. “The Renaissance was a rebirth.I mean, everyone knows that, but I liked that there was this explosion of new and old meeting together. I liked that people were beginning to look at Greek and Roman art through a new lens. I’ve always liked that about art. It isn’t just a painting or a sculpture. It’s a conversation.”

“I see,” Michelle said. “And you would be able to tell a real piece from a fake piece?”

I swallowed, unsure if this was a trap. I suddenly imagined Michelle whipping out a Raphael painting and demanding I prove its authenticity. “Maybe,” I said. “I know a lot about pieces and about paint, but I don’t know everything.”

Michelle smiled. “You’re honest,” she said. “That’s refreshing. Of course, if you join the art forgery team, we’ll have you trained to recognize such things. We don’t expect you to know everything from the start. It’s actually better that you don’t come in with a bunch of pre-conceived ideas; sometimes, what we think we know, we don’t really know.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

“Any experience in criminal justice?” she asked.

“Some. I’ve taken…a few classes here and there. A couple of forensics and criminal justice classes.”

In hindsight, I probably hadn’t taken enough, but when I’d been an undergrad, I hadn’t given much thought to what I’d be working at. I’d crammed in whatever general education classes let me get the most days off.

“A little experience, then,” Michelle said, although she must’ve already seen my transcript. “Well, I think I can safely say you’ll be hearing back from us.”

My eyes widened. I wanted to jump from my chair and shout for joy, but I knew that was a dumb, deal-killing idea. “Really?” I asked instead, trying to keep my enthusiasm at bay.

I didn’t want to look desperate, but I couldn’t really help it. This was theFBI, and they were going to call me back! It had taken years of trying to get this interview!

Michelle’s smile was indulgent. “Meet with the secretary on the way out, and we’ll schedule your next interview with Jim Weis.”

Another interview. Of course. I stood and extended my hand. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much for your time.”

Michelle shook my hand. “The pleasure is all mine,” she said.

In my excitement, I nearly tripped over her chair. When I walked into the hallway, I could feel the grin stretched across my face. I hadn’t gotten hiredyet, but I was one precious step closer.

As I walked to the subway, I texted everyone on the movie set’s group text, letting them know that the interview had gone well. At least, Ithoughtit had, but I still felt a cold jolt of fear that maybe Michelle really hated me, thought I was young and inexperienced and foolish, and just been too polite to say it.

“That’s wonderful!” –Brandon

I curled my fingers tightly around the phone. Every emotion I’d been trying to ignore the whole morning suddenly bubbled forth and hit me so strongly that, for one instant, I thought I might’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“Cool. At least I know you won’t quit if you’re hired.” –Seth

“I’m so happy for you!” –Bioncia

Despite the influx of texts, my eyes focused on the black letters spelling out Brandon’s name. What was I going to do about him? I sighed. This was my own fault, and I knew it. I shouldn’t have had sex with him. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have even been worrying about all this. But…but it had been a lot of fun, really. If I were being honest, I’d admit it was fun, but it was just sex, right?

Wrong.

It wasn’t just sex. I grimaced and forced myself to put my phone in my pants pocket. Why did this all have to be so confusing?

As usual, the set was bustling with activity. Everyone was covered in fake blood and latex. I wove my way in, dodging set pieces, cast and crew. A few people nodded and greeted me as I walked in. Although I hadn’t been part of the production for all that long, I already felt like I really belonged here in this community of artists and talented people.

I found Bioncia quickly. My heart skipped a beat, and time seemed to stop, crystallizing into some strange, solid thing around me. Bioncia was in a deep conversation with Brandon, his blond head close to hers as they looked over a smattering of photos spread over a prop suitcase. Everything Brandon and I had done flashed before my mind. Had Brandon told anyone? I hadn’t asked himnotto.

Should I be embarrassed? Afraid?

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