said the construction down there has everything tied up. Would you like some coffee?”
She’d like some more tea, but with her luck she’d spill it all over herself or the interviewer.”No, thank you.”
“I just handed him your résumé. Let me see if he’s ready.”
Carrie watched her disappear around the corner and exhaled a slow breath. Time for an attitude adjustment. The week so far might have been lousy, but she needed this job. This could be the turning point she was hoping for…
“You may go in now, Ms. Sargent,” the young woman said when she returned, then added softly under her breath.”He’s not in the best mood this morning, but his bark is worse than his bite. He’s really a nice guy when you get to know him.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Carrie whispered back, her lower intestines contracting. Great. Just great.
“First door on the right,” the secretary called over her shoulder.
The man sitting behind the desk had his back to her, staring out the glass wall behind him. She put on her best smile and rapped softly on the open oak door beside her.
He swiveled around abruptly, as if roused from some trance.
“You!” he said, blue eyes widening.
Carrie’s chances for a quick paycheck dimmed along with her smile. Nonetheless, she stepped forward and extended her hand.”Carrie Sargent. I’m here about the job.”
He looked at her hand a moment, then stood and gave it one quick shake before dropping back into his tan leather chair. His lips were locked tight and his dark eyebrows pinched together. His gaze drifted to her bright scarf and suit, then back to her eyes.
“Is this how you always dress for an interview, or do you save this getup for demolition-derby days?”
She folded her arms and shifted her weight to one foot. The job was obviously out the window, so why hold back? “Is this how you talk to your employees, or do you save your arrogance for lowly applicants?”
He slapped his palms on the desk and pushed out of his chair.”I think you can assume this interview is over, Miss…Miss…”
“Sargent.” She retrieved the insurance information from her pocket and read the name he’d scribbled early. Cash Cunningham—President. Made sense. It was that kind of week.”Well, Mr. Cunningham, I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure to meet you, but I’ve never been a good liar.” She turned to go, throwing a last line over her shoulder.”Expect to hear from my insurance company.”
Cash watched the curly carrot-colored hair bounce off the woman’s shoulders as she stormed off, then crumpled her résumé and tossed it in the corner wastebasket. For this he’d rushed back from a job site?
Suddenly she was in the doorway again, hands on hips.”Do you suppose you could find some twine or something to tie up the bumper you destroyed?”
Of all the gall. He had a mind to sit her in the chair and tie her up, this loose cannon with the face full of freckles and legs up to—
He picked up the phone and punched the intercom to the warehouse.”Sam…got a lady here who needs help.” That was an understatement.”Find some twine and meet her in the parking lot. She’ll be easy to spot. Just look for a gaudy suit next to an old rust-bucket wagon.” He hung up the receiver and took some pleasure from the steam generating off the body in the doorway. She was glaring at him, her ample chest rising and falling rapidly as she mouthed words that challenged his heritage. Swinging her hair off her shoulders, she disappeared again.
Cash steepled his fingers and waited, half expecting another visit. When none came, he buzzed his secretary, who stood in front of him a moment later.
“Obviously, that one didn’t work out,” he said.”Are more scheduled?”
“Not really. Miss Sargent sounded so nice on the phone, and her references raved about her. Sorry, boss. I thought I found you a winner.”
She was a winner, all right. Cash heaved a sigh.”Go through the pile again and see if we overlooked anyone.” Peggy started to leave.”Oh, and Peg…if you don’t find anything, then give that headhunter a call…Dwayne what’s-his-name?”
“Dwayne Flutie,” she said.
“Right. Flutie.” Damn! He hated giving those bloodsuckers money.”On second thought, Peg, wait till Monday’s mail. If we don’t have a candidate by then, find Flutie and I’ll talk to him.”
“Aye, aye, boss,” Peggy said, rolling her eyes as she turned.
Cash grabbed a handful of paper from his in-basket and swore under his breath. All this paperwork was killing him. If he didn’t get someone soon, he’d drown in it.
Peg was already in over her head, but just two years out of high school, what did he expect? She was good on the phone, dealing with customers and directing the hundreds of calls they received. There was little time for anything else. Besides, when he hired her, he’d known she was light on experience and it would be years before she was ready for much more. Still, the price was right. She seemed happy with a little over minimum wage and benefits after a year.
He rifled through the pile in front of him, knowing he’d have to cancel tomorrow’s golf game. If he was lucky, maybe he’d find his desk under all this mess by Sunday night. And sometime over the weekend he had to see about car repairs, thanks to that…that…spitfire. He leaned back, locked his hands behind his head and emitted a sardonic laugh.
When was the last time someone had dressed him down like that? Ever? He couldn’t remember anything quite like it.
Carrie made a pit stop at the insurance adjuster’s office, where she got the bad news about hard-to-find parts, plus a reminder that she’d changed her deductible to two hundred and fifty dollars—which was more than double the amount left in her pocket.
Cursing her luck, she headed for Carmel and M. M. Day’s Pub. By the time she found a parking space a half hour later she was in a real snit. With long strides she marched to the bar, hopped up on a stool, crossed her arms on the scarred mahogany counter and waited for Gus to notice her, which took only a few seconds.
“Carrie, my love. What can I getcha?” He reached out and patted her arm, a warm smile crinkling the corners of his tired eyes.
“Coffee, please.” It had been months since she’d stopped by to see him. Now she felt guilty about the favor she was about to ask.”How’s it going, Gus?”
“Oh, I can’t complain. How’s your pop doin’? Does he like Maine?”
“He’s getting better every day. Says he loves being back east after all these years.”
“Thank the Lord, no paralysis, huh?” He deposited a steaming mug in front of her.
“You can say that again! There’s still a little speech problem, but nothing you can’t understand—especially when he starts swearing.” She chuckled, feeling the frustrations of the morning slip away.”Yep, that always comes out crystal-clear. Sometimes I hear him giving the visiting nurse the what-for, so I guess he’s pretty much back to normal.” She sipped her coffee and sighed.”Mmm…Thanks, Gus. I needed this.”
“Bad day?” He dried glasses as he spoke.
“Bad week.” She tucked a handful of frizz behind each ear and blew at her bangs.
“Sorry to hear that, Carrie. Real shame you lost your job when your pop’s business sold. He always boasted what a fine job you did. Find anythin’ new yet?” A customer waved at the far end of the bar and Gus motioned he’d be right