more of an art to this than a science, but I'd still like to give you a chance tomorrow afternoon."
"Okay," I nod, "I can do it. I'll be there."
"I'll send you all the details and the flight confirmation. The name you listed on the application is accurately spelled, correct?"
“Yes, it is.” I nod.
"Good, good. I'll be in touch. It was nice to speak with you, Jacqueline Archer."
I hang up the phone and stare at the screen.
I'm going to be on a flight out there at eight the following morning.
What time do I have to get up?
What do I even wear?
What do I say?
I don't know the answer to any of these questions and about a hundred others enter my mind as quickly as I put these aside.
Not knowing what else to do, I walk slowly back to the table, sit down, and pick up my glass of water, drinking half of it before lifting my eyes to meet Dante's.
"What happened? They don't want to pursue it?" he asks, probably judging from the grave expression on my face.
I shake my head no.
"What did she say? That was a recruiter, right?"
I nod slowly, looking at him but also through him. "She wants me there for an interview tomorrow afternoon. My flight out is at eight."
"Oh my God.” He smiles, excited.
"There are other people interviewing, but Vasko won't have another opening for a week or so. She has a really good opinion of my application and she liked talking to me so much that she's pushing me ahead."
"That's great news, right? Why do you seem so unhappy about it?"
"No, it is. It's amazing news. I guess I'm just in shock. I just feel really nervous all of a sudden."
Dante gets up from his chair and moves to my side of the booth. He wraps his arm around my shoulder.
"You have nothing to worry about. You can do this job. You have already done it. Just elaborate on your experience, that's all."
"Yeah, I know.” I nod, shaking my head. But suddenly I feel queasy, sick to my stomach. "I've never done anything like this before, you know?"
"Look, I totally understand if you don't want to, but I want you to give this a chance. Just go, do the interview, answer his questions."
"But he's going to ask me about my experience."
"Yes, and we can practice tonight, but it's all stuff that you’ve done before. Make appointments, organize his agenda. Nothing out of the ordinary."
I nod, taking a lot of deep breaths.
The waitress comes over and asks us if everything is okay or if we'd like to order a second round of drinks.
I say no, but Dante orders me some more iced tea, no sugar.
When our entrees arrive, I eat my Mediterranean salad full of olives and feta cheese and I can barely taste the thing.
It's not that it’s bland. It’s that my taste buds seem to have been thrown into a state of shock, rendered useless.
"It's going to be okay," Dante promises, and I force myself to believe him.
11
Jacqueline
Since my flight the following morning is so early, Dante drives me to the airport the night before and we rent a suite at the Marriott.
"I don't want to stay. I don't want to spend another night on your childhood twin bed,” he says and I laugh.
"It creaks when you breathe, let alone when you try to do anything else."
I laugh again.
My bag is packed and sitting in his trunk, and I've already said goodbye to my mom who wished me luck. She doesn't know the extent of what I'm going to do.
And for now, that's okay.
The drive doesn't take long, but we sit in a bit of traffic in a heavy downpour with just brake lights, blinking all around us.
"I can't wait to get into that dry room and order some room service, maybe a bottle of champagne. How about that?"
I nod.
"I like the sound of that. Maybe even some hot tea,” I offer.
"Hot tea? Not sure if that's exactly the romantic gesture that I'm going for."
"Well, I got soaked getting everything in here,” I say, pointing to my shirt and jacket, which are drenched from multiple trips back to the house.
He laughs, shaking his head.
"You have one little carry-on and it's not my fault you kept forgetting things back home. It's almost as if you haven't flown anywhere ever."
"Well, come to think of it,” I say, nodding my head. “That trip to Minnesota was the only one I had in years."
"Really?" He gasps. "I think