The Wait

I sink into the chair, my heart pounding. I play with the bottle of water the receptionist offered me when I arrived. I pull the skirt of my new suit down and cross my legs. A quick glance at the time on my phone tells me I have ten more minutes. The portfolio rests heavily on my legs. I open it and study my resume, scanning for last minute grammar and spelling errors though it is too late to change it now. The time on my phone flashes, 1:55, five more minutes. This is my dream job, a shorter commute, excellent benefits, we can finally get off my husband’s crappy HMO his work offers, interesting work. It will be devastating if they turn me down. I know I have all the right skills and experience, but who else does? I smooth down my curly locks and wonder if I should have made a last minute appointment to get it blown out straight. My knees lock, this is agonizing, I just want it to be over. The door opens and a tall man with blond hair, dressed in a dark suit walks into the room. My stomach jumps, I sip from the bottle of water, and take a deep breath. He extends his hand, “Bethany? We are ready for you now.”