I let out a breath as I smoothed down my dress. I didn’t love it either, but I really was out of options. In the two days since I’d found out I wouldn’t be attending the Young Scholars Program, I had tried everything I could to line up something for the summer. I’d been practically laughed out of the career office at school when I’d explained I was looking for something for this summer. None of my other leads had panned out—the parents of the kid looking for a tutor realized pretty quickly that my French wasn’t up to par; I could handle my own computer, but couldn’t code or work within multiple operating systems; and when I’d called about it, the mother’s helper gig had already been filled—which I was actually fine with, since I didn’t love little kids. Finally, I’d called the vaguely worded listing, and the girl who’d answered—her name was Maya—had seemed thrilled to get my call and only too happy to meet whenever was convenient for me, causing my pyramid-knife-scheme sensors to move to high alert. After we’d agreed to meet at Flask’s (my favorite coffee shop and the place where I acquired my daily iced latte) and settled on the time, she’d said good-bye before I could find out what, exactly, this job was.
“Look,” I said, after pulling the phone away from my ear for a moment to check the time. “We’re meeting at a coffee shop. I’ll call as soon as it’s over. It’ll be fine.”
“Hmm,” Palmer said.
“I don’t know,” Toby sighed.
“Aren’t you at work?” I asked her. “How are you able to spend this much time lecturing me?”
“I’m just being a caring friend,” Toby said, her voice rising, “and—” There was a pause, and when Toby came back she was speaking much lower. “Actually, gotta go. Call me later. Don’t get kidnapped.”
“Me too,” Palmer whispered. “Call me.”
“Bri?” I asked, after they’d both hung up.
“Still here.”
“You don’t think I have anything to worry about, do you?”
“Nah,” Bri said easily. “Putting a flyer up at the diner is a super-inefficient way to go about kidnapping someone.”
“Thanks, B. I’ll call you later.” Bri said good-bye, and I hung up and took a breath before carefully stepping out of the car. I was wearing one of my best dresses—blue, with a tight-fitting bodice and slightly flared skirt—along with heels and light, tasteful makeup. I’d printed out a copy of my résumé on thick paper stock and was carrying it in a folder so it wouldn’t get bent on my way inside.
I stepped inside and looked around. The place was half-filled, mostly with people typing on laptops and groups of moms with strollers. There was a girl who looked like she was in her mid-twenties, but my eyes skipped over her until I realized she was smiling big at me and waving. “Andie?”
I nodded, my hopes plummeting as I made my way over to her table. “Hi,” I said, holding out my hand, feeling myself inwardly groan as she stood up to shake my hand. Her blond hair had pink tips, and she was dressed casually—jean shorts, tank top, sneakers. Even though it was the very beginning of summer, she was already tan, with tattoos that peeked out from under her tank top straps and twisted up her ankles like vines.
“I’m Maya,” she said, smiling at me, revealing slightly crooked teeth. If she thought anything about the fact that I was either seriously overdressed or she was underdressed, it didn’t show. She took a seat, and I sat across from her, trying to hide the disappointment on my face as I took my résumé out of the folder and slid it across the table to her.
She looked at it while she took a sip of her blended drink, the kind with whipped cream and sprinkles that always seemed more like milk shakes to me than anything else. (I kept this opinion to myself around Palmer, though, who was addicted to the mint java chip flavor.) While she was reading it over, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to my friends. Normally, I never would have done this during an interview, but it was clear to me already this wasn’t an interview that was going to matter.
ME
All fine. Nothing to worry about.
“This looks great!” Maya said, her eyes scanning down my résumé as I dropped my phone back in my bag. She looked up at me and her smile faltered, and she glanced back down at the paper for a second. “Walker . . . ,” she said, like she was trying to place my last name. “Didn’t I . . . ?”
“My dad’s a congressman,” I said easily, automatically. “Maybe that’s where you . . .” But a moment later it hit me that maybe her recognizing my name was not in the normal way people sometimes did. That this probably had more to do with my dad’s scandal having taken over the news a few days ago. “Um,” I said, realizing I wasn’t sure how to handle this. “I . . .”
“Well,” Maya said, giving me a smile that let me know she probably had seen my dad on TV but wasn’t going to press the issue. “You’ve got a lot of awesome experience here. I’m surprised you’re still looking for a job, actually.”
“Yes,” I started, then hesitated. “My, uh, summer plans changed at the last minute. So I’m at a bit of a loose end.” As soon as I spoke these words, I felt myself cringe. I didn’t even know what this job was, let alone if I wanted it, but I knew that you never made yourself seem too available.
“Oh, man, I know all about that,” Maya said, not seeming to realize that I’d violated a core interview technique. “Like, I only put up the flyers when one of my best employees quit because she decided to move to Seattle.” She took a long drink, then shook her head. “I think she’ll be back, though. Do you know how much it rains there?”
“So about the job,” I said, trying to steer us back to the reason we were both sitting there, which I was pretty certain was not to discuss weather in the Pacific Northwest.
“Right!” Maya said, sitting up straighter. “Of course. So I run a dog-walking and pet-sitting operation I started two years ago. It’s primarily me and my fiancé and one other employee, along with some people who fill in on an occasional basis.”
“Oh,” I said, nodding, feeling myself start to deflate. Not only did I not have any experience with animals, but I couldn’t imagine a single college being impressed that I’d walked dogs all summer.
“It’s hard work,” Maya said, her tone serious. “And it’s a lot of responsibility. People are entrusting their pets—members of their family—to our care. Do you have experience with animals?”
“Yes. In fact, a few days ago, I was . . . with a dog.” A second too late, I realized what I was doing. I didn’t even want this job, so why was I trying to impress her? “But—”
“As long as you like animals and are good with them, everything else can be learned,” she said, giving me another big smile. “Just like anything in life.” She looked down at her watch, then back up at me. “I’m actually going to pick up some dogs for a walk now. Want to come along? You can see if the job’s for you.”
I hesitated. This was not the job for me. It was even a step below what I’d been thinking I might have to sink to, which was seeing if Flask was hiring baristas. This would be outside, with no air-conditioning, and I had a feeling it would involve dealing with a lot of crap, both literal and figurative. And what was worse, I would have nothing to show for it when the summer was over. Also, I was wearing one of my best dresses and four-inch heels. I was supposed to walk a dog in this?
“Unless you have somewhere to be?” Maya asked, raising an eyebrow.
And maybe that’s what did it. The fact that I had nowhere to be, no plans, no structure to my summer whatsoever. Maybe it was that even though I knew, rationally, I didn’t want this job, there was still a part of me that wanted to get it. For whatever reason, I found myself sitting up straight and looking her right in the eye. “I’m totally free,” I said. “Let’s do it.”