Conflict of Interest

Dare

I arrive at Thomas Industries, and it is surely breathtaking. All of the glass gives it a shiny navy look, with quartz pillars and a gold railing that leads to the huge doors.

The handle is at my eyeballs. I walk up to the reception, my heels echoing in the quiet corridor.

I can hear the hushed whispers of people working, along with the moving of paper and the clicking of keys. Stopping at the marble desk, the beautiful redhead behind the desk is typing away.

“Hello,” I say almost so softly that no one can hear me. I swallow as many nerves as I can and breathe deeply.

“Hello, I am Dare Williams. I have an interview at 11 am. I am a little early, but I just wanted to make sure I was on time,” I look at the clock and it reads 10:45 am, and I smile proudly.

The white rabbit would be so proud. The receptionist looks up and smiles brightly and kindly. I instantly notice her beautiful baby blues that scream against the white decor.

“Hello Ms. Williams, I’m Annie Leroy. Mr. Thomas is in a meeting at the moment but will be out in a few.

“I am going to take you to his office to wait,” she finishes with a smile and stands elegantly, straightening her tan pencil skirt.

“This way,” she opens her arm out with that same smile and leads me to the office.

“And please call me Dare,” I said with a sheepish smile.

“Call me Annie,” she gives a reassuring smile back. She’s nice. I like her.

Once we arrive at the etched glass door that reads, ‘Richard Thomas CEO/PRESIDENT’, it’s kinda intimidating. I slightly shake my head and take a deep breath.

I almost shit my pants when Annie taps my shoulder. She laughs silently.

“Word of advice?” she peers and I nod. “Relax, it’s not as scary as it seems at first.

“The building can be kind of intimidating, but Mr. Thomas is an amazing man. He doesn’t put much pressure on the interview. So take a deep breath,” she instructs, and I do so.

“And just be yourself,” she says with a final smile and heads back to her desk. That didn’t help at all, I am still freaking out.

I open the door and head inside. Pristine is the first word that comes to mind when I enter his office. Everything has a place and nothing is out of it.

It has a lot of family photos and awards scattered around. I sit in the plush navy blue chair and try to breathe.

Finally, the door opens and a man walks in. I stand to shake his hand and introduce myself as he makes his way to me. He is wearing a navy suit with a grey undershirt and a white tie.

Flocks of grey and white tatter his hair, while creases accent his brown eyes. He firmly shakes my hand as I silently pray he can’t feel how sweaty they are.

“Ms. Williams?” he asks, and I nod.

“Please, just call me Dare,” I say with an easy smile.

He takes a seat after unbuttoning his jacket. I grab my résumé from my bag and hand it to him, along with some recommendations I have gotten from other jobs.

He nods as he reads, and I secretly die of anticipation.

“So, Grace Reeves is a close friend of mine, and she recommended you when I asked if she knew of anyone to be an assistant. Your résumé is extensive, and your recommendations are amazing.”

“I just have one question...” he says. “Why do you want this job?” he asks.

“Uhh,” I say, letting out a breath. “Honestly?” I ask, and he nods. “I really need this job. I have been to many other places and have gotten treated like I was some mistress.

“I need a job that will challenge me but also highlight what I am good at. One that pays well and one where I am respected. This job fits everything on my list.

“I need the money for rent and other expenses. My roommate and I split the cost on almost everything, but I recently quit my last job due to the fact that my boss was, for lack of a better term, a pig.

“He touched me inappropriately, and when I went to HR to report it, they told me I must’ve made it up or I asked for it. So, I quit.

“This is my only choice left. No one else is hiring, and I desperately need a job,” I say with 100% honesty. I bite my lip, wondering if that was too much information while he processes my words.

“Well, points for honesty. You are the first person in a long time to come in here and answer that as honestly as you did.

“Once upon a time, I was where you are, terrified out of my mind, and I blurted that this was my last choice of a job and I had no other choice.

“He actually gave me the job, and I learned the business and then used my saved up money to start a business, and what do ya know, here I am.

“And it is for this honesty, your résumé, and your recommendation from Grace that I am giving you this job.

“But, we won’t need you to start until the 30th, is that okay?” he asks, and I am completely shell shocked. That is not how I saw this conversation going.

Once I snap out of being completely gobsmacked, I rise to my feet to shake his hand, as does he.

The 30th is in two weeks, that's perfect! The wedding is next weekend, and then I will go to work the following Monday.

“Thank you so much, sir. Two weeks is perfect,” I say, smiling widely while shaking his hand.

“Alrighty then, I’ll see you Monday,” he says.

“See you Monday, Mr. Thomas. And again, thank you so, so much,” I say as I walk out of his office. I have to stop myself from doing a happy dance.

***

I arrive at home, and Ope is sitting in her same spot on the couch, once again surfing through TV channels. “Hello?” I greet, setting my stuff down and walking into the living room to sit down.

“So…?” she asks expectantly, urging me to answer. I feign sadness and look down, adding a fake sniffle to sell it. “Oh,” she says defeated, and I can’t hide it anymore.

I get up and jump and squeal, running around the room singing happily. Ophelia looks confused, so I sing it to her.

“I..got..the...JJJJJOOOOOOOBBBBBB!!!!” I sing obnoxiously and loudly.

“Wait, you did?” she asks, and I nod, smiling.

“Yeah, and get this—I don’t have to start until the 30th,” I say, humming lightly.

“That’s absolutely...PERFECT! You can go to the wedding and then work. So, now we’re both off this week, what are we gonna do?” she asks, thumping on the couch.

We sit on the couch, legs crossed, and look at each other silently for a moment before shouting consecutively, “BINGE WATCH THE VAMPIRE DIARIES!” We laugh together while I order pizza.

“Pizza?” she asks. It’s like we share a brain.

“Already ordering it,” I say, and she smiles.

“Best friend ESP,” she says, chuckling.

“You know it,” I say, staring at my phone, pointing at her.