Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
But there was no laughter.
Instead, this seemed to grab Noah’s attention. His brows arched. “Nice. You like to read?”
Okay, this is good. We can work with this. Don’t freak him out with your… freakiness.
My response was enthusiastic, to say the least. “I love to read.” This was easy conversation for me and I leaned forward with query. “Do you?”
Noah looked me in the face, and for a split second, his brow marred. It vanished almost as soon as it appeared. “I do. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of time for it anymore.”
I put my elbow to my knee and rested my chin onto my upturned hand, beaming. “What do you like to read?”
Wait, who was interviewing who here?
Noah sat back a moment then grinned and his smile was as handsome as his name. “Autobiographies, mainly. What about you?”
Ah, lovely. Here was yet another opportunity to be laughed at.
Just be yourself.
Noah didn’t look like the judging kind but he was a beautiful person, and I knew how fake beautiful people could be.
My smile lazily slipped away and I revealed a tentative, “Sci-Fi. Fantasy. Paranormal.” I lowered my gaze. “Romance.”
For some reason, Noah made a note on his scribble pad and nodded. “Nice.” He made another note, crossing out the first. “Okay, Emily. I’m going to ask you a series of rapid-fire questions now.” He laid his kind eyes on me. “Don’t think. Just answer as quickly as you can, okay? We’ll start easy.” At my nod, he began. “Last thing you watched on TV?”
Well, yeah, that was easy. “I Love Lucy.”
Noah snuffled out a laugh through his nose, and the more he did it, the less frightening it became to me. “Okay. How would you rate your memory?”
Uh oh.
On what scale? One to ten? I was taking too long. How did one judge that?
All I could think to say was, “Elephantine.”
At that, Micah narrowed his eyes and peered at me curiously. “What does that mean exactly?”
But Noah responded for me. “An elephant never forgets.”
Yes!
My mouth gaped in disbelief.
I couldn’t believe it. He got me. How strange? I breathed out, “Exactly.”
This Noah guy was becoming less scary by the second. Also, I kind of loved him for being as understanding as he was. It wasn’t exactly an easy thing, to be understanding, when it came to me.
Sure, I was odd and I knew it. I tried hard not to be, I really did, but how did one stop being themselves?
“Last fun one, okay?”
I bit my lip but nodded gently. I was beginning to like this man.
“How would you describe the color yellow to a blind person?”
“Huh,” I muttered as my brow creased. It was a great question. I needed a moment to think. After a short pause, I began, “Yellow is warm sunlight streaming into your room on a cold day.” My creative writing course kicked in and I took in a deep breath, responding on an exhale, “Yellow is soft and happy, and exciting without being noisy or obnoxious.” I smiled to myself, looking down at my lap. “Yellow is what fun feels like.”
When I lifted my head again, my smile drooped and my heart stuttered.
Both men were looking at me and they wore matching expressions on their faces. I wasn’t very good at reading people’s body language but when they looked at each other, Noah scribbled something onto his notepad and showed Micah. Whatever Noah had written, Micah seemed to agree and he spoke then, “How old are you, Emily?”
Oh, crud. He sounded confused. Why did he sound so confused?
My response was cautious and came out sounding like a question. “I’ll be twenty-four in June…?” The smile that followed surely looked like I was in a huge amount of pain.
Micah peered down at my resume. “You understand that you’ll be away from your family if you get this job?” He searched my face. “I need to know if that’ll be a problem.”
I did not know that. My gut clenched tightly.
Calm down. It’s fine. Just breathe.
So this job involved travel. Did I have a problem with that?
I mean, really, what was keeping me here?
Roll with the punches, Emily. You’ve got this.
“Yes, I understand that. I think it would take some getting used to but it’s just my nanna and me. She’s elderly and moving into a nursing home very soon.”
“You’d be in very close proximity to four grown men,” stated Noah, watching for my reaction.
My heart sank. Also did not know that. My response was weak, unsure, “Okay.”
He went on. “They’re loud. They’re crude.” My stomach somersaulted as he continued. “There will be times when the guys bring women home with them. Privacy is basically non-existent.” He eyed me good. “It’s a very high-stress environment. How do you think you’ll cope?”
How did I think I would cope?
Coping was all I had ever really done in life. It wasn’t about coping anymore. It was about doing something I needed to do, stepping outside of my comfort zone, because it was the right thing.