Chapter 4 #2
He searched his desk for his calendar and opened it to May.
Nope, nothing written here about a meeting with anyone, although he didn’t exactly use his calendar very often.
He hadn’t even made a note of Kalista’s interview.
Maybe Evelyn had scheduled Jade and not told him.
If so, he’d have a word with her about keeping him apprised of stuff like this.
He didn’t like being unprepared. Especially not where Jade was concerned, although his sister had no idea who she was.
Then he thought of a more likely explanation—Jade had a meeting with someone else in the building.
Including the press and circulation rooms in the basement, The Times ’s operation took up most of the 1920s brick structure.
But there were two other offices on the third floor that housed businesses—Larry Wilson’s insurance company and Benji Mason’s fledgling chiropractor practice. Good, he had nothing to worry about.
Except his accelerated pulse. That could be explained by his hurrying to his office, although he’d never had a heightened heartbeat before from fast walking.
Surely it wasn’t because of Jade. He’d blocked his feelings from her many years ago.
One glimpse of her wouldn’t cause them to resurface. No way, no how—
“Mr. H.—”
“What!”
Tyler flinched, his head poking inside the door. “Uh, sorry to disturb you.”
“No, I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m...” Confused. “Is Kalista ready?”
Tyler frowned. “Kalista?”
“Yeah, the girl, um, woman, that’s interviewing for the delivery job. Blond hair, uh...” He couldn’t remember what she was wearing. Although he did notice that Jade had on a plum-colored blouse, navy blue pants, and she still sported plain black pumps, the same kind she wore back in the day—
“The one wearing the pretty blue-and-white flowered dress?” Tyler asked.
“Uh, sure. That one.”
“Yes, she’s here too.” His eyes turned moony. “Kalista. That’s a nice name.”
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
“There’s another lady who wants to see you.”
His stomach sank. “Please tell me it’s not the redhead.”
“Okay, but I’d be lyin’ if I did.”
Seb shifted in his chair. Okay, so Jade was here to see him. But what could she possibly want after all these years?
“Mr. H.?”
“All right, send her in.”
“Which one?”
He paused. He was extremely curious about Jade, but he already agreed to interview Kalista right now. “Kalista,” he said. “Tell Jade, er, Ms. Smith to wait in the reception area.”
“Will do. Then I’ll head over to Cherry Hill to cover their library reopening.”
“Right. Thanks, Tyler.”
“Sure thing, Mr. H.”
When Tyler left, Seb fell back in his chair, questions flooding his mind.
After Jade had told him about the job in Atlanta, she quit immediately without notice and without talking to Seb again.
He’d been hurt over that too, but more frustrated with himself for jumping to the wrong conclusion about their short relationship.
After she was out of his life, he moved on.
Not with a new girlfriend, but with his job, and then he’d bought The Times and moved back here.
Buying the newspaper had been a godsend in more ways than one, since it kept and continued to keep him extremely busy, to the point that Jade Smith moved to the recesses of his memory.
Eventually he stopped thinking about her.
But seeing her again, even for a few minutes, and knowing she would be in his office soon, sent him inexplicably reeling.
Had she moved back to Arkansas, and was she just dropping by for a visit?
Or was she passing through and wanted to say hello?
He discarded both of those. She’d specifically said meeting, which denoted business.
But what business could she possibly have with him and/or The Times ?
* * *
Kalista sat in the reception area at The Clementine Times and crossed her legs.
She tapped her nails against her elbow and glanced around the old, tired-looking space.
Framed newspaper columns were all over the walls.
Two seats down sat the redheaded woman she’d argued with earlier.
She was a piece of work, all high and mighty and demanding in her boring navy blue business suit.
It was sweltering out and she had a jacket on.
She did have pretty hair, though. Kalista would give her that.
She brushed off the old dress Viv had given her to wear, certain that there was dirt on the country blue-and-white flowered fabric.
Polyester again, although she had to admit that she liked the fit of the dress, which reached to her mid-calf.
With its three-quarter sleeves, it certainly was modest. And hot.
How did people back in olden days deal with this heat when their fabrics didn’t breathe?
And then there was the truck—an old green jalopy that backfired when she turned the ignition key.
She’d never driven such a big vehicle before, much less one with no power steering.
The radio was broken and only played AM stations, so she couldn’t even listen to her music.
She did feel a little bad she’d scared the tall man who had been talking to the redheaded woman, but she was in a hurry and didn’t want to miss the interview.
The Hispanic guy who told them to sit down as he went to get “Mr. H.” reappeared.
He looked like someone who worked at a newspaper—owlish glasses, skinny as a ski pole, emo-looking black hair pressed against his head.
His cargo shorts and white T-shirt were way too baggy, and one of his raggedy high-top tennis shoes was untied.
And Viv said I dressed unprofessionally.
“Mr. H. says he’ll see you now.” When the redheaded woman started to stand, he shook his head. “Not you, ma’am.” He turned to Kalista and grinned. “He’s ready for your interview.”
Hmm. He was kind of cute when he smiled. “Thank you...”
“Tyler.” His cheeks turned rosy as he looked down at his shoes. Then he turned to the other woman. “He said you can wait here.”
The woman didn’t say anything, but her lips were pressed into a thin line. She yanked something that looked like a cell phone with a big screen out of the pocket of her jacket and started tapping on it.
“Mr. H.’s office is down the hall and around the corner. It says Editor in Chief on the door.” He grabbed a steno pad and pencil from the empty desk in the reception area. “I’ve got to run to Cherry Hill,” he said, tucking the pencil behind his ear before dashing out of the room.
Kalista’s fingers and toes suddenly turned cold as she headed down a dark hall that could use another ceiling light.
When she neared the corner, she had the urge to run off, call Daddy, and tell him she wanted to come home.
She could get a job in LA, easy. Maybe she could even work for her father, although he’d never offered her a job before.
Come to think of it, that was a little insulting.
Didn’t he think she would be responsible?
No, he didn’t. He’d said as much that day by the pool, and she barely listened to him. Now she remembered his words clearly.
She couldn’t go home anyway, not until after Viv’s wedding. She didn’t want to disappoint her. There was no choice but to go through with the interview. She stopped in front of the door, hesitated, then knocked.
“Come in,” a super deep male voice said.
She opened the door and saw that the guy in the parking lot had indeed been Mr. Hudson.
He was sitting behind a messy desk. A really messy desk, and the rest of his office didn’t look all that neat either.
Not dirty, just crazy cluttered. He had on a crumply short-sleeved green-and-white plaid shirt, and even though his shaggy, grayish, light brown hair and two-day scruff made him look a little disheveled, he had striking blue eyes. Decent looking for an old man.
“Kalista, right?”
“That’s me,” she said with a little wave.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to an old leather chair in front of the desk, then got up and walked to a tall filing cabinet. As she sat down, she noticed an old-fashioned typewriter on a short desk next to a larger desk with stacks of papers precariously balanced on the corners.
Mr. Hudson opened one of the drawers and thumbed through file folders, stopping in the middle and pulling out a sheet of paper. He shut the drawer and handed it to her. “Fill this out. I’ll be back.”
She took it and looked at the header. Clementine Times Application for Employment.
“Want some coffee?”
Coffee would be heavenly. “Espresso.”
His scruffy face broke out in a smirk. “Yeah. Right.” Then he walked out.
Humph. The sooner she finished this interview the better.
Although Viv didn’t know the job Kalista was interviewing for—Bo hadn’t mentioned it to her—she assumed it was for the receptionist job since there was a desk but no receptionist in the waiting room.
That gave her a little confidence. She would be the perfect receptionist since she was a pro at talking on the phone and telling people hello.
But she wasn’t sure she should take it if he offered it to her. She didn’t want to work in an old newspaper office. There had to be something else in Clementine that would be more suitable and fun. A salon or a spa. A cute little boutique even. This was all a formality.
She fished through her designer bag, found a pink pen with a fuzzy pom-pom on the end, and uncapped it, then filled in her name, address, and other simple-to-answer blanks until she got to the job history section.
List your last three jobs/positions.
What was she supposed to put here? The section was a table with the headings What, Where, and When . She wracked her brain and was about to skip the section entirely when an idea hit.
What: Office Aide.
Where: Beverly Hills High School
When: 2003
She smiled. That would work. Next question.
List any previous experience or skills you have for this position.
Kalista relaxed. Since she wasn’t accepting the job, she just wrote one sentence.
I have a gorgeous smile, extensive experience talking on the phone, and a lovely demeanor.
The last section asked for references, and she wrote down Viv’s name and phone number.
She didn’t remember her exact address, although it was something Country Road and she had the directions in the truck.
She thought about putting down Daddy’s name but didn’t bother.
No one here would know who he was anyway.
The door opened and Mr. Hudson appeared with two mugs and placed them on the desk. One had The Clementine Times logo on it and the other one said I May Be Wrong, but It’s Highly Unlikely. Kalista got the logo mug.
“I’m finished,” she said, grinning proudly as she handed him the application. He started to read over it while Kalista took an eager sip of coffee. Instantly she started to choke.
“Too strong?” he said, still looking at the application. He took a sip, unaffected.
“No,” she rasped. What in the world did he brew this with—nail polish remover?
“I made it weaker than normal.” He took another drink and set down the mug, then started to frown. The frown deepened as he kept reading. Finally, he looked at Kalista. “This is...”
She folded her hands on her lap and smiled.
He kept watching her, and she kept smiling. His expression was blank, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Her smile dipped as he remained silent.
Finally he shrugged and tossed the application aside. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to have experience to do the job. Tyler will train you. Wait, one question. Have you ever thrown a baseball?”
“What does that have to do with being a receptionist?”
Mr. Hudson tilted his head, then chuckled. “Didn’t Bo tell you what you were interviewing for?”
“I haven’t met him yet, and Viv didn’t know.”
He leaned forward. “This is a delivery job.”
Kalista frowned. “Delivering what?”
“The paper.”
Her jaw dropped. “I applied to be a delivery boy?”
“Girl. Woman.” He waved his hand. “I saw you driving Bo’s truck. It’s got four-wheel drive, so you should be fine in the mountains, if you can get your parking under control.”
“Mountains?”
“You’ll start at 3:00 a.m. A little earlier than our other two delivery guys.”
That was insane. So was driving in the mountains. She’d only ever skied on them. And throwing newspapers? No way. “I think there’s been a mistake.”
“Is that right?” He slowly sat back in the chair, his gaze landing on hers. “Obviously you can’t do the job.”
She went very still. How dare he tell her that? How hard could it be to toss a paper on the porch? Did he think she couldn’t do such a simple task? “Oh, I think I can.”
“And I’m sure you can’t.”
The nerve of this man. He didn’t know her, or what she was capable of. “You’re wrong, and I’ll prove it to you.”
A slight smile. “So you want the job?”
“Yes.” Wait, what was she saying? She didn’t want to deliver newspapers. She was above that.
“Then you’re hired. I’ll let Tyler know you’ll meet him in the press room tomorrow at three for training until noon. After that, your hours will be three until you finish the route, usually by five or six o’clock.”
Kalista’s stomach slowly sank inward. “Uh...”
“Great. Welcome to The Times .” He motioned to the door and turned to his typewriter, then began tapping on the keys like she wasn’t even there.
Humph again. She snatched her purse and shot up from the chair. Spinning on her heel, she headed for the door. Then she stopped and almost turned around to tell him to forget it when she realized what had just happened.
She had a job. I have a job!
An unexpected giddy feeling went through her as she opened the door and left Mr. Hudson’s office.
But as she made her way down the hall, her giddiness disappeared.
She was glad she could call her father and tell him she’d found a job so quickly.
That would show him she was responsible.
However, under no circumstances could she let her friends find out that she was going to be a newspaper boy.
.. girl... whatever. She would never live it down.