and yank my hand back. “Whoa, back up a second. Psychological screening?”
“Some of our applicants are a little too high-strung. We need to be sure you’ll be able to handle yourself in pressure situations with lives potentially on the line.”
Been there, done that. It didn’t end well.
The look on my face must stay it all, because she tips her head at me. “Is that going to be a problem?”
I take the board from her hand. “No.”
“There’s also a drug screening.”
“Can’t guarantee I’m going to pass that,” I say, flipping through the papers on the clipboard.
“You a user?”
I shrug up at her. “Recreational.”
“We use a urine test, so if you’ve been clean for a few weeks you should be okay. But be warned, I withhold the right to test randomly. It’s in your employment contract. So if you give me any reason to think there’s an issue, you better believe I’ll have you peeing in a cup before you can say ‘cut me a line.’” A slightly nefarious smile curves her lips. I decide I like her. “Coffee?”
“Sure.”
I start on my paperwork.
A minute later, she’s back with a steaming mug in her hand. “I forgot to ask if you wanted cream or sugar.”
“Black is great,” I say.
She hands me the mug. “I’ll leave you alone. Just find me at the end of the hall when you’re done.”
I down the coffee in a few gulps and work on the application. When I get to the psych questions, I laugh out loud more than once. I mean, are they serious when they ask shit like: Do you believe you have more difficulty with relationships than the average person your age?
Let’s see . . . I’m twenty-five. I’ve dated models and movie stars, but I’ve never had a serious relationship. I’ve been hiding from a backwater schoolmarm for two weeks because she’s one of the very few things on this planet that scare she living shit out of me.
. . . But let’s say no to that one.
Next we have: Do you have difficulty trusting people? Only when I don’t know if it’s the good guys or the bad guys who are trying to kill me. Then there’s: Do you prefer to be alone rather than in the company of others? Definitely. If you answered yes to the previous question, is it because you feel very anxious in social situations, or because you are suspicious of their motives? Me, suspicious? Hell no.
I roll my eyes and wonder if anyone answers these fucking questions honestly.
When I’m done lying my ass off so I don’t sound like a paranoid schizophrenic, I take my paperwork to the end of the hall. The door is open. I step inside. Elaine’s got her bare feet up on the desk in front of her, pecking away on a laptop.
“Done,” I say, holding up the clipboard.
She rolls her chair back, slides her heels on. “You’ve handled a gun?”
I’m not sure what the right answer is, so I decide in this instance to be honest. “Yeah.”
“You own one?” she asks.
I reach behind me and pull my Glock out from under my shirt.
She puckers her glossed lips and her eyes widen. “Nice. You keep it handy.”
“When I can.”
“You have a concealed weapons permit for that?” she asks with a quirk of one eyebrow.
That’s one thing the Feds didn’t supply me with. Don’t think they’d be thrilled to know I carry it around with me. “No, ma’am.”
“Ma’am,” she laughs under her breath. But then her expression goes serious. “You’re not a convicted felon, are you?”
“No.” The Feds had never been able to pin anything on my family until the raid. And even then, they only got Pop on white-collar stuff—money laundering and tax evasion.
“Good. Provided you clear the background check and we bring you on, we can supply you the competency paperwork. We have an arrangement with the local sheriff’s office for prints.” She stands and thumbs through a file cabinet in the corner, coming out with a form. “Fill this out and we should be all set. Takes a while to process, so get it done now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiles, shakes her head. “This way, cowboy.”
I follow her up the hall into the warehouse. Her heels clack off the cement floor as we pass between the jet and wrestling mats on our way to the door to the soundproofed room in back. She hands me a pair of bright yellow ear covers hanging on a rack near the door and puts a pair on