The third installment of The Interview! I hope everyone is enjoying so far!
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Stephanie sat back and watched the other interviewees fidget. They all looked like they were facing death row, but with a small gleam of excitement lighting their eyes and their hands clutched their portfolios. Stephanie looked down at her small portfolio case and winced. It was ragged, torn down the side, had a splotch of bright pink paint from a recent project, but what did you expect for $3 at the local thrift store?
Stephanie smoothed her navy skirt over her knees and watched anxiously as one after the other of her competition's names were called.She could feel her heart pounding when her name was called, she slowly rose to her feet and walked slowly towards the tall, slim blond woman with the severely pulled back hair. She was wearing a tan pantsuit with a beautiful pink button down top underneath. The woman's makeup was flawless and her skin glowed with a tab.
Stephanie instantly felt intimidated. She couldn't compete with these people. She was a high school dropout with a Goodwill portfolio bag. She felt like she was going to hyperventilate. She looked at the blond from the corner of her eye and saw the lady's lip twitch as if she were trying to hold back a smile. They walked up to a large mahogany door and the woman pushed it open and slipped inside, Stephanie followed suit. Stephanie gasped as she looked around her. The room was ornately masculine. The walls were painted a deep red wine, with dark mahogany trim and matching built-in bookcases filled with books, there were red silk chairs facing a matching couch in the corner an right in front of the door was a thick dark desk piled with papers and a laptop. Behind that desk, boring holes into her was a man with eyes so dark they were almost obsidian. She swallowed and lowered her eyes. Probably not a good move during an interview, but Stephanie couldn't hold that stare.
The man stood, ran his fingers through dark brown hair, he narrowed his eyes and looked Stephanie up and down pausing briefly on her portfolio case, she pulled it in front of her and clutched the handle with both hands protectively. It may be shabby but it served its purpose. Without saying a word the blond handed him her file and sashayed out of the door.
"Please, miss, have a seat." His rich baritone showed no sign of an accent that she could discern. She sat in a very uncomfortable wingback chair situated in front of his desk. She smiled hesitantly and held out her hand.
"Hi, my name is Steph-" The man interrupted her opening speech.
"Just sit down." He sat in his own chair, his comfortable looking chair, and leaned back studying her. "You don't look the part of a lingerie designer." Why, the egotistical jerk! Stephanie frowned and tilted her head.
"Funny," she said, "Neither do you." She was used to looks like the one he was giving her. Stephanie wasn't a tiny girl by any means, but she wasn't huge either. She was a normal woman. And normal women want to look hot, too! Not everyone was a non-existent size. His eyebrows rose at her comment. She noticed the name tag on his desk finally. Jared Sutherland. "Mr. Sutherland, I am a very talented designer, I'm not here so you can make snap judgments because I don't look like one your models, I'm here because I can offer something of value to your company. I may not have the shiny degrees that most of your applicants have, but I have been constructing and designing women's attire for years. Now if you want to see my portfolio and sketches I will be more than happy to let you take a look if however, you think this is a waste of your time, I can leave." Stephanie crossed her arms in front of her chest, her portfolio leaning against her legs. "The, choice, sir, is yours."
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Don't Miss the other installments:
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
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Stephanie sat back and watched the other interviewees fidget. They all looked like they were facing death row, but with a small gleam of excitement lighting their eyes and their hands clutched their portfolios. Stephanie looked down at her small portfolio case and winced. It was ragged, torn down the side, had a splotch of bright pink paint from a recent project, but what did you expect for $3 at the local thrift store?
Stephanie smoothed her navy skirt over her knees and watched anxiously as one after the other of her competition's names were called.She could feel her heart pounding when her name was called, she slowly rose to her feet and walked slowly towards the tall, slim blond woman with the severely pulled back hair. She was wearing a tan pantsuit with a beautiful pink button down top underneath. The woman's makeup was flawless and her skin glowed with a tab.
Stephanie instantly felt intimidated. She couldn't compete with these people. She was a high school dropout with a Goodwill portfolio bag. She felt like she was going to hyperventilate. She looked at the blond from the corner of her eye and saw the lady's lip twitch as if she were trying to hold back a smile. They walked up to a large mahogany door and the woman pushed it open and slipped inside, Stephanie followed suit. Stephanie gasped as she looked around her. The room was ornately masculine. The walls were painted a deep red wine, with dark mahogany trim and matching built-in bookcases filled with books, there were red silk chairs facing a matching couch in the corner an right in front of the door was a thick dark desk piled with papers and a laptop. Behind that desk, boring holes into her was a man with eyes so dark they were almost obsidian. She swallowed and lowered her eyes. Probably not a good move during an interview, but Stephanie couldn't hold that stare.
The man stood, ran his fingers through dark brown hair, he narrowed his eyes and looked Stephanie up and down pausing briefly on her portfolio case, she pulled it in front of her and clutched the handle with both hands protectively. It may be shabby but it served its purpose. Without saying a word the blond handed him her file and sashayed out of the door.
"Please, miss, have a seat." His rich baritone showed no sign of an accent that she could discern. She sat in a very uncomfortable wingback chair situated in front of his desk. She smiled hesitantly and held out her hand.
"Hi, my name is Steph-" The man interrupted her opening speech.
"Just sit down." He sat in his own chair, his comfortable looking chair, and leaned back studying her. "You don't look the part of a lingerie designer." Why, the egotistical jerk! Stephanie frowned and tilted her head.
"Funny," she said, "Neither do you." She was used to looks like the one he was giving her. Stephanie wasn't a tiny girl by any means, but she wasn't huge either. She was a normal woman. And normal women want to look hot, too! Not everyone was a non-existent size. His eyebrows rose at her comment. She noticed the name tag on his desk finally. Jared Sutherland. "Mr. Sutherland, I am a very talented designer, I'm not here so you can make snap judgments because I don't look like one your models, I'm here because I can offer something of value to your company. I may not have the shiny degrees that most of your applicants have, but I have been constructing and designing women's attire for years. Now if you want to see my portfolio and sketches I will be more than happy to let you take a look if however, you think this is a waste of your time, I can leave." Stephanie crossed her arms in front of her chest, her portfolio leaning against her legs. "The, choice, sir, is yours."
-------
Don't Miss the other installments:
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
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