Warning! There is strong language, scenes of sex, drugs and alcohol issues in this story!

Please read Chapter 1 here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@penny-rose/it-s-my-mistake-chapter-1-updated
Please read Chapter 2 here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@penny-rose/it-s-my-mistake-chapter-2-updated

Chapter 3

“So, Miss Mark, why do you want to work for us?” said a rather plump looking woman with a kind heart-shaped face as she tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear.

“Well, I have always wanted to work with people, ever since I was a small child,” I lied as I tried to ignore how annoyingly perfect her hair looked. It shined in the bright lights. I could never get my hair to shine like that. “My own mother was a child minder, and I would be endlessly fascinated with hearing all the different stories about the children coming through who clearly needed extra help. We would talk for hours about how we would help them if we could.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. I did have a mother who was a child minder. She did have children come through her care that needed extra care. And we did talk for hours about how we would help them if we could. But I didn’t always want to work with people. In fact, after the few years working in care; I had decided I no longer wanted to work with people. I had enough of people and their problems. It was depressing. Not to mention it reminded me terribly of my mother.

My dream job was actually working in hospitality. Well, it’s a little more complex than that. It stemmed from being fascinated with hotels and holidaying as a child. My parents weren’t exactly rich, but they were at least able to afford a decent holiday ever year. It was usually the only time of the year that I actually felt happy. I didn’t exactly get on with my parents. My mother was extremely controlling and sometimes abusive, and my dad turned a blind eye to it. He just allowed it to happen, as if his wife always knew best on how to deal with the children and didn’t seem to have much say. Holidays were the only thing that really made me feel happy. I wanted to find a way to keep that happiness with me. Until I became obsessed with hotels and was adamant I wanted to work in one and own one and eventually be the reason for other people’s happy holiday memories.

“I see, but why our company?” the plump woman asked, knocking me out of my daydreams that seemed to come a little too easily while I sat being interviewed in a café that reminded me of my trip to Italy one year.

I noticed she didn’t even make any notes on my previous answer, and I felt my cheeks flush a little. I wondered if I actually answered her question wrong.

“Ah, that’s easy,” I began, trying to ignore the fact I had completely misunderstood her, “because out of all the companies out there, none looked so professional as yours, with such a high rating too!” I smiled a little falsely.

The woman smiled back, and began to finally jot down some notes in her bright pink note pad that gave me a headache every time I glanced at the florescent cover. Clearly what I said worked. I must have said something she liked to hear. But it was true; they were professional and had very good ratings.

“Plus, I like the idea of your setting,” I stupidly continued, trying to find a way to fill the uncomfortable silence between us. “With all those gardens for the children to play in, rather than being right in the city centre like this other one I was looking at,” I laughed a little inwardly, “in fact, this other one, I wasn’t too keen on because the website looked absolutely terrible!”

“Uh huh,” the woman said, looking up from her notes suddenly and at myself. Her smile had faded and she was hard to read. “Does it have a picture of a woman in a red dress on the front?”

“Yeah! That’s the one, you know of it too? Absolutely awful isn’t it?” I laughed again.

“But of course,” she nodded, her face set hard as she stared at me. “The photographer didn’t quite get my good side in that picture.”

“Huh?” I asked, unsure I heard her correctly.

“Miss Mark,” she folded her arms across her large chest, “you’ve just described our company website, I think you have gotten confused with what company you’re being interviewed for.”

My face fell. Shit.

“Well, it was-, err-, interesting meeting you, Miss Mark,” she continue before I had chance to think of something to say, “we’ll get in touch if you have been successful,” she put her pen down rather definitively on the café table in front of her and closed her note pad so more of that horrendous bright cover was staring at me.

My heart sank. That was yet another interview I had messed up. And it wasn’t even the first one after the hotel incident.

“I’m so sorry!” I muttered and sighed. “The truth is, I’m really not doing very well at the moment, work-wise I mean. I think I’m just trying too hard. I didn’t mean to offend you. In fact, I didn’t even mean all those things I said. I was just trying to hype up the job. But I clearly got my wires crossed.”

“Absolutely,” she nodded, and stared at me.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve applied for every job there is that’s going. From working with children, working with vulnerable adults, even cleaning and bar work. I tried to find work in a different area, went for this interview at a hotel. It was only an entry level administration role, less pay than care work, and I messed it up. But I then realised that it wasn’t for me. I can’t work in one of those big-shot hotels trying to be polite to rich people, when I can make a different here working with the people that really need it!” I didn’t really want to work with special needs children or drug addict teenagers anymore, especially not after what happened in my last job. But I had realised I was out of my league working in hotel work without any experience.

The woman, to my surprise, suddenly smiled at me. “I appreciate your honesty, Miss Mark, thank you.”

I nodded and went to get up, but she wasn’t finished.

“I’ll make sure I leave out the bit where you mock the website and the company. Although it isn’t my decision to make whether to hire you or not, but with your impressive CV, we’d be stupid not to take you.”

My eyebrows went up, “What? Really?”

She nodded, “I’ve been in a similar position to you. I know how hard it is.”

“Thank you!” I said, smiling broadly at her.

“You’re welcome, and good luck.”

---

Feel free to check out my other work here:

Rose Garden Sanatorium
Read my Prologue here:
https://steemit.com/writing/@penny-rose/rose-garden-sanatorium-prologue-updated
And Chapter one here:
https://steemit.com/story/@penny-rose/rose-garden-sanatorium-chapter-1-updated

I fell in Love with a Psychopath
Read Chapter 1 here:
https://steemit.com/writing/@penny-rose/i-fell-in-love-with-a-psychopath-chapter-1
Read Chapter 2 here:
https://steemit.com/fiction/@penny-rose/i-fell-in-love-with-a-psychopath-chapter-2

Ender's Love
Read Chapter 1 here:
https://steemit.com/writing/@penny-rose/ender-s-love-chapter-1-warning-strong-language
Read Chapter 2 here:
https://steemit.com/fiction/@penny-rose/ender-s-love-chapter-2

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