Page 16 of By A Thread
“Ruth, this is Ally. She’s here to see Dalessandra about a job,” Gola said with an eyebrow wiggle.
“What kind of job?” Redheaded Ruth asked, cupping her chin in a dainty hand.
“That’s the best part. She doesn’t even know!”
“Pretty sure it’s not a cover model gig,” I joked. “She gave me this card and told me to ask for her.” I fished Dalessandra’s business card out of my coat pocket and handed it over.
“This is exciting!” Ruth insisted. “This is the second new random hire today.” She pointed to a small waiting area. Low, white leather chairs looked more fashion-forward than comfortable. Gold planters held glossy green ferns in front of windows that framed the gloomy Midtown skyline.
Bus stop guy was sitting gingerly on one of the artsy-fartsy chairs. His leg was jiggling to a nervous beat. He’d trimmed his hair and beard and was wearing an orange sweater that stretched tight over his belly, making it look a little like a pumpkin.
He looked so happy I was actually scared for him.
“Hey, bus stop buddy!” He waved at me.
“Hey,” I waved back and sent every good vibe I could muster his way. Mean people ate sweethearts like him for breakfast.
“You two know each other?” Gola asked. “Even more intriguing.”
I turned back to the women. “So what you’re saying is this doesn’t happen often?” I hadn’t been sure if Dalessandra made a habit out of playing employment fairy to strangers.
“Never,” Ruth said. “Maybe this is some kind of mid-life crisis.”
“The woman is sixty-nine,” Gola reminded her.
“If anyone can live to 140-ish and still be fabulous, it’s Dalessandra,” Ruth insisted.
“I gotta go,” Gola said, juggling the coffees. “But maybe we can do lunch today? You can give me all the deets on how you met Dalessandra.”
“There aren’t many details. Her dinner date got me fired.”
Gola and Ruth exchanged another look.
“Dinner date?” Ruth whispered gleefully.
“My extension is on the company list. I’m the only Gola.”
“Call me too,” Ruth said. “I need to know about the dinner date!”
Lunch buddies. Okay. This wasn’t so bad.
“Sounds good.”
Gola backed through a second set of glass doors, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the coffee survived.
“Let me just call back to Dalessandra’s office to let them know you’re here,” Ruth said, picking up the phone.
I watched a grim-looking woman in a dove gray suit walk up to my bus stop buddy. He rose and beamed at her. She frowned at him.
“Follow me,” I heard her say without enthusiasm.
My buddy gave me a thumbs-up with one hand and clutched his brown bag lunch to his chest with the other.
“Please let the mail room be friendly,” I whispered.
“Ally? Dalessandra is ready for you,” Ruth said, hanging up the phone. “You’re just going to go through those doors and follow the hallway all the way around. It’s the last office on the left, and you’ll see two terrified assistants sitting out front.”
Oh, goodie.
