Page 78 of Going Deep
“A little.” Ginger paused to smile at the server, waited while she uncorked and poured the wine, then picked up her glass to sample the cool, golden liquid. “Oh, that’s nice.”
“I thought you’d like that.” Lola gestured with her glass. “You were saying?”
“I got an email from the director.” Ginger sipped her wine again, savoring it. “Basically, they’re still writing the job description, but they’re expanding their educational services, and they’re looking for someone to head that up.”
“Wow.” Anna blinked. “That’s big.”
“Yeah.” Ginger brooded into her wine. “Too big.”
Lola lowered her glass. “What do you mean?”
Ginger reached for another breadstick. “There’s no way I’m qualified for this job.”
“You’ve got a master’s degree,” Anna began.
“And half a dozen years of teaching experience.” Ginger waved the breadstick in the air. “But no administrative experience, no community organizing. It’s wild that they even called me in for an interview.”
Anna frowned. “Then, why did they?”
Understanding flashed in Lola’s eyes. “Because Michael told them to.”
Anna’s eyes went bug-wide. “Michael did?”
“She’s not caught up,” Lola said to Ginger.
“Fill her in, will you?” Ginger laid down her breadstick and slid off her chair. “And if the server comes back, order me a cheeseburger. I need to pee.”
She headed to the bathroom and took care of business. When she got back to the table, there was a fresh basket of breadsticks, a glass of water next to her wine, and pretty olives in a bowl.
“Your burger is on its way,” Lola informed her when she sat down. “Want an olive?”
“Sure.” Ginger plucked one from the bowl and popped it in her mouth. “All caught up?”
Anna nodded. “Are you going to do the interview?”
“I want to. I’ve been researching the Center, what they do, how they work, and I really would love to work there in some capacity.” Ginger frowned. “I have to be honest with Miriam—she's the director—about my qualifications. Or in this case, the lack of them.”
“What about your connection to Michael?”
“That’s trickier. I don’t know what he’s told her.”
Lola pursed her lips. “Yeah, that’s delicate. You don’t want to confess to banging the boss if she doesn’t already know.”
Ginger winced at banging the boss. “Exactly.”
“Why didn’t he just tell you he owns the place?” Anna wondered.
“Probably for the same reason she didn’t tell him she knows he owns the place,” Lola said.
“Why was that again?”
“I honestly don’t remember,” Ginger said, brooding into her wine again. “I wish I had. I wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Well, you are, so you have to deal with it.”
Ginger rolled her eyes at Lola. “Gee, thanks.”
“You could tell him now,” Anna suggested.
