By the time I had my drink in hand, the seat across from Julian was empty and I made my way over. Was the girl before me qualified for the position? More qualified than me? Julian was typing away on his iPhone as I approached, but when he caught me out of the corner of his eye, he pocketed his phone and stood to pull out my chair for me.
“Why, thank you,” I joked.
He smiled.
“Sorry that interview ran a little overtime. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” he said, bending forward so that I could hear him over the background noise of the coffee shop.
My body was interpreting the entire situation wrong. The way he’d pulled my chair out and leaned in close so that we were only a small table away from each other. The way he scanned over my features before taking a sip of his coffee. My heart thought, “Wow this date is going well!” while my brain screamed at me to remember that this was a job interview.
“I’ll admit, I sort of thought I’d be the only applicant meeting you here today,” I said, unsure of where the honesty was coming from.
“Why would you think that?” he asked with a bemused smile.
I shrugged, glancing at the table beside us while I processed my answer. “I guess because this seems like kind of a strange place to conduct interviews.”
Julian frowned, scanning over the shop. “Ah, I admit, that’s my fault. Lorena was operating her business out of a dilapidated warehouse in Brooklyn. I had to decide whether to have you all drive out there and risk getting tetanus from a stray nail or line you all up outside of my hotel room.”
An image of him in his hotel room, sans suit, instantly jumped to the front of my thoughts. I pushed it aside and tried to ignore the hint of blush I knew was now very prominent across my cheeks.
“Well, for the record, my tetanus shot is current,” I said with a smile, still attempting to quell naked Julian thoughts.
He laughed and I took the opportunity to pull out my resume and slide it over to him.
“I read a few of your blog posts last night,” he offered before leaning back in his chair and studying me, completely ignoring my resume.
“Really?” I asked, shocked by his admission.
He nodded. “They were charming. Very real. I liked them.”
I don’t think my eyes could have been any wider.
“Wow.” I nodded, tucking his words away in my mind so I could extract them later when I needed a little pick-me-up. “Thank you.”
“Do you think your blogging would get in the way of this job?”
What?
“Oh. No! No. I write my posts at night and take my outfit photos on Saturday mornings. I’m very flexible.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased by my answer.
“Tell me a little bit about your background.”
I smiled. I loved talking about my home. Growing up in a small town in Texas made for quite a few interesting stories. I decided to leave out the cow tipping and bonfires in favor of my family life and college years.
“I loved it, but as soon as I could, I moved here.”
“So you came to New York a few years ago?”
My hands twisted together beneath the table. “Uhh, actually it’s been about two weeks.”
“Wow, so the move is still fresh,” he said.
“Very fresh,” I admitted. I was still learning how to handle the big city. As soon as I thought I’d seen it all, I’d step off the subway and in the span of three blocks I’d see a couple fighting, breaking up, and then getting engaged. On any given day, half of the subway cars smelled like urine, and attempting to get anywhere on time was nearly impossible. It was stressful to live in the city and I still hadn’t found my niche, but I had dreams. One day when I’d paid off my massive pile of student loans and was working for Vogue, I’d move to the Upper East Side and get to experience the city in a whole new light.
“So you studied at a fashion school in Texas?”
He was doing his best to withhold judgment, but I could tell he was less than impressed by my lack of experience.
“I assure you, I had a great education there. Very hands on classes and I interned with Kendra Scott while in school. She’s a Texas based jewelry—”
“I know who she is,” Julian interjected, scanning down to my resume.
“I might not be as qualified as some of the other applicants, but what I lack in experience, I make up for in commitment and work ethic.”
He studied me intently as I spoke and something in his gaze forced me to glance down at my coffee to regroup. Having his attention on me, his eyes on me, was hard to stomach. It felt like a rare treat, something not every woman was fortunate enough to experience in her lifetime. I wanted to savor his attention while I had it.
“I’d like to offer you the position.”
My gaze shot back up to him to see if he was kidding. The dimples were there, but the smile was gone. His eyes were bright and clear. His sharp features were relaxed and focused. He wasn’t kidding.
How many people had he interviewed before me? Two? Three, tops?
My mouth opened but it took a few seconds before words finally spilled out. “You’re offering me the job right now? What if someone better comes along this afternoon?”
SHUT IT. He’s giving you the position.
“My gut says to go with you and it’s yet to fail me.” He smiled, brushing off my concerns so easily.
Well that’s because your gut is probably made up of rock hard abs; they wouldn’t fail anyone.