Page 121 of Catch a Kiwi
Arthur shoved my C.V. back into a manila folder, unwound his long legs, stood up, and said, “It’s a good C.V. Cheers for coming by, and for your interest. We’ll let you know.”
Strike three, and you’re out.
I took another sip of coffee, but my fingers trembled on the handle, and a few drops splashed into the saucer. I put my napkin over the spill, set the cup down and moved it around to form three interlocking rings as if the pattern were interesting, and thought,You knew it wouldn’t be easy. It’s never easy. This has to be the only field in the world where being pretty means youdon’tget the job. Which is, of course, why you like it. So you get another waitress job and keep applying for something better. Or decide whether you can ask Esther for more help.I knew even as I thought it that I wouldn’t ask Esther, though. You got jobs based on who you knew, but—no. I just couldn’t.
Delilah had a job already, bruised tailbone and all, and I didn’t. That was completely backwards, which meant I was doing this wrong. Had I lost my confidence? Lost my poise? What was wrong with how I was coming across?
The more we value things outside our control, the less control we have.Epictetus. The Stoic philosophers were excellent sources for, well, stoicism. WhatcouldI do? I could ask Gray, back at the house, when I cooked dinner tonight. He was a builder, which wasn’t exactly a code-intensive profession, but he was well-known, right? He’d hear things. He’d …
Somebody at the next table said, “Pardon.” It took a minute to realize that it was directed at me. I turned my head to find a fortyish woman dressed in dark jeans, T-shirt, and jacket. Pretty much like me, in fact. She was a little round, and her curly hair was pretty great, bouncing in ringlets to her shoulders. The kind of woman you can’t help liking on sight.
“Hi,” she said. “Interview, eh.”
“Yes.”
She made a face. “Not too likely, I’d say.”
I had to laugh. “Not likely at all. Oh, well. I’ll just—” I stopped, though, because I didn’t much want to say the whole “waitress” thing. “Keep trying,” I finished.
“Hmm. Mind if I join you?”
“Uh—sure. Be my guest.”
She slid in across from me, bringing her date scone and latte with her. “Penny,” she said, sticking out a hand.
“Summer,” I said, shaking it.
She blinked round, owlish eyes behind her glasses. “That a name?”
“Yes. Summer Adair.”
“Can I see the C.V.?” she asked. “Got another copy? Or one on your phone?”
“Sure.” Why not? Maybesheknew somebody. Stranger things had happened. I opened my own file folder and handed the thing over.
She scanned it quickly. “Uh-huh.Uh-huh. Anybody should be snapping you up. Not always easy to find this kind of experience here. Why aren’t they?”
“Well, I … it’s …” I stopped.
“Can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” she said. “Why? Is it how you look? It can be a misogynistic industry, tech. The name probably doesn’t help, either. You may want to consider Cleo. Diana. Mallory. Like that.”
“I’m wearing pants, though,” I said, not addressing the name. I wasn’t changing myname.
She blinked. “I hope so.”
“Oh!” I tried not to turn red. “Trousers. I’m wearing trousers.”
“All the same,” she said. “That it, then? That you look like a TV presenter? How many interviews has it been?”
“Three,” I said. “But they were … I got some help setting them up, which should have given me an in. A well-connected friend. And, yes, this guy did imply that there was something more to that. To the friendship, which may be hurting me as much as it’s helping me. Which there wasn’t,” I added firmly. I mean, I’dsleptwith Roman, sure, but Esther had given me the list before that, so …
“So thisisn’tyour actual experience,” she said. “On the C.V. Because otherwise …”
“No!” I took a breath. “Of course it was. Of course itis.Those are my jobs, and my skills, and my degree. It’s … I was in the papers. In the news. Married to a star athlete. Eventually to a felon, because he went to prison. I got off, but we both ended up bankrupt. It’s kind of … a lot.”
“But not your lot,” she said.
“No.” I was still shaky, but I could hold my cup, at least, so I did. See? I’d felt awful, and now I didn’t feel quite so awful.
