He turned at the corner and continued on until he’d reached Boylston Street. There he stopped at a newsstand, bought a Boston Globe then crossed the busy intersection leading to Copley Square, a large cement park between the Hancock Tower, a shopping complex and several enormous old churches. He sat on a bench, watched the intricate water fountain at the center of the square. It was still early, but the commuters and businesspeople were already hurrying about on their way to jobs, juggling briefcases and coffees, babbling into cell phones and furiously texting on their BlackBerries. Not so long ago he’d been just like them, and now here he sat on a park bench like some loser. With a weary sigh, Jeff opened his newspaper to the “ Classified” section.
He’d not been scanning the ads long when he noticed a strikingly attractive young woman scoping out the square. Dressed in a pinstripe skirt-suit and black heels, she stood out from the crowd and looked like an up-and-coming business executive, her raven-black hair styled perfectly, her makeup flawless. Sexy but professional, she held a leather briefcase in one hand and a cell phone to her ear with the other. She caught Jeff looking at her, smiled, then after saying something into the phone, slipped it into the side pocket of her briefcase and started toward him with a confident and purposeful stride.
Holy shit, she’s coming over here. Heart racing, he quickly pretended to return his attention to the newspaper, but she’d already closed the gap between them.
“Hey there,” she said, her smoky voice laced with a slight raspy quality. “How are you?”
Jeff looked up over the paper as if he’d just noticed her. “Oh hi,” he said, nervously clearing his throat. “I’m fine thanks. And you?”
“Outstanding.” She bent her knees and placed the briefcase on the ground next to her, then reached inside the main compartment and removed a flyer of some sort.
Christ, he thought, she’s selling something. Yet the woman looked far too well-dressed and successful to have a job peddling wares or handing out flyers to strangers on the street.
“I hope you won’t think I’m being too forward, but may I ask a question?”
Jeff’s cynical instincts kicked in but he still couldn’t seem to get beyond how gorgeous the woman was. “Sure,” he said, setting the newspaper aside, “ask away.”
“Are you looking for work by any chance?”
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
“Well, let’s see. It’s a little before nine in the morning on a weekday, you’re sitting on a park bench rather than on your way to work, you’re dressed casually-which means it’s either your day off or you’re unemployed-and you’re reading…” With a mischievous glint in her eyes she looked to the bench and zeroed in on the newspaper, “…the classified section. Call me crazy, but I bet you’re looking for a job.”
“Impressive.” Did I just wink at her? I did. Jesus. “Are you a detective?”
“Hardly.”
“So I’m not under arrest then?”
This time she did the winking. “Not yet.”
Gushing like a schoolboy, Jeff laughed longer and louder than seemed necessary. Why am I so nervous? You’d think a beautiful woman had never spoken to me before. Eden’s gorgeous, she-EDEN-shit, right, Eden. Ratchet it down a few million pegs before you get yourself in trouble, dipshit.
“Check it out.” She thrust the flyer at him, her bright smile still in place and her dark, exotic and catlike eyes studying him.
“It could change your life.”
Jeff took the flyer. It advertised interviews being conducted later that same day but gave no indication what the jobs were and no specific information
about the company itself. IF YOU’RE SERIOUS ABOUT CHANGING YOUR LIFE WE MAY HAVE THE EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITY YOU’VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR. FOR ONE DAY AND ONE DAY ONLY, INTERNATIONAL FACILITATOR, INC. AND ITS CEO AND FOUNDER, WORLD-RENOWNED ENTREPENUER F. HOPE, WILL BE CONDUCTING EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEWS IN YOUR CITY. IF YOU’RE RIGHT FOR US THIS COULD BE THE FIRST STEP TOWARD MAKING YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE.
He’d never heard of International Facilitator, Inc. or F. Hope, but whoever they were it was obviously some sort of con. Legitimate companies didn’t recruit employees with street flyers. Probably a sales seminar conducted by some douche bag with a middle-of-the-night infomercial, Jeff thought. A self-appointed expert sharing his ‘secret’ of success if you’ll buy his insanely overpriced videos and books. Get in on it now and I’ll make you rich. Uh-huh, sure you will.
“It’s not what you think,” the woman assured him.
He looked up at her questioningly.
“The expression on your face gave you away.”
He attempted to hand the flyer back. “Thanks, I think I’m all set.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” she said, sliding onto the bench next to him. “But do you mind if I ask your name?”
Up close she was even more beautiful, and smelled intoxicating.
He felt himself blush. “Jeff.”
She extended her hand. It was dainty, with small, thin fingers, nails manicured, tapered and painted power red. “Jessica Bell.”
He shook her hand. It was warm and soft and he felt a tingle that began in his lower back spread out across his entire body the moment they made contact. “Jeff,” he said again, head spinning. “Jeff McGrath.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jeff.”
“The pleasure’s mine.” He hoped to come off suave but knew he was more than likely making a fool of himself. He hadn’t seriously flirted with anyone other than Eden in years and it showed.
“Frankly, Jeff,” Jessica said in a conspiratorial tone, “I’d no longer have any interest in setting up an interview for you if you weren’t skeptical. I know this whole thing seems suspect, but trust me, it’s no scam. This is one of those instances in your life when you can either walk away or seize the moment, you know? A few years back, when one of his other recruiters approached me and handed me a flyer, I thought it was all a crock too. I was in New York, and I’d been working as a secretary at an accounting firm and taking acting classes at night. I wanted to be an actress back then, before Mr. Hope showed me my full potential. Anyway, I’d just been let go from the firm due to budget cuts and I was in trouble, a small town girl not long out of junior college and all alone in the big city, right?
But I figured I had nothing to lose, so I went to the interview just for the hell of it. It changed my life, Jeff. It changed my life.”
Jessica crossed her legs then smoothed the skirt down over her knees.
“You see, what I didn’t know then was that the recruiters are trained to spot potential, to look for certain signs in individuals that indicate they might be right for our company. Back in New York the recruiter saw those signs in me. Just now, Jeff, I saw them in you.”
Even though he knew it was probably all part of some carefully calculated pitch, he couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered. Losing his job had damaged his self-esteem and confidence, and there were worse things than having a beautiful woman sit so close and say nice things about him. “I’m curious,” he said, “what exactly are those signs?”
“We’re talking intangibles here.”
“Can’t even give me one example?”
She thought a moment before answering. “What I do involves instinct, utilizing a highly-developed ability to spot that special something in people that sets them apart. Strength, confidence-”
“And need?”
She relaxed her smile into something a bit more genuine. “And need,” she confessed softly. “But if you’ll notice, Jeff, this area is mobbed with people. The only person I’ve given a flyer to is you.”
“Well, so far anyway.”
“No. I was just about to leave when I spotted you sitting here.”
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning away from him and gazing out over the square. “Did you lose your job recently?”
“A few months back.”
“Sales?”
“You’re good.”
“I’m well-trained. Were you in management?”