Chapter 40 Madi
CHAPTER FORTY
Madi
The last time I’d interviewed for a job, it was with the studio of my dreams. It's been years, and interviews like this never failed to make me feel nauseous.
I clenched my hands under my desk as the virtual waiting room continued to stay empty. I wasn't really sure what would happen, but I decided there was no reason to not take the interview.
ABBA Studios was just as legendary as Dream Ink. Some of the shows and films they’d produced were the greatest of all time. Their artists were top of the line, everyone was paid well, the benefits were abundant.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
Had I gotten this nervous in the past? I couldn't remember.
I still hadn't told Dallas or June about this. I felt like I was deceiving them in a way, even though we all were still under the impression that I was taking off in just a few days.
I was supposed to leave Monday. Dallas had fixed up my car, refused to charge me for it, and it was ready for the drive back to LA.
He’d even replaced my tires so they’d be safer on the road.
I’d had my fill on hot and kinky sex. I’d been shown that I not only could I fall in love again, I could be loved too.
Did I even belong in a small town? When I first got here, my answer was no.
Absolutely not. I hadn’t even been sure I’d make it all six weeks.
But then Whynot charmed me. Not only had it charmed me, but it made me feel like I had a home.
All my years in a giant city were empty compared to my time in Whynot.
The screen blinked. A man appeared, already wearing a broad grin. He had big glasses, blue hair, and the friendliest demeanor I’d ever encountered right off the bat for an interview like this.
“Hey there, Madi,” he said. “So glad to get started. My name is Dusty, and I'm one of the head project managers with the studio. I usually do the first interview, and if all goes well, we’ll get you in to meet the rest of the team.”
“Hi Dusty,” I chimed. “It’s so good to meet you. Thanks for taking the time.”
“Of course, of course.”
Yeah, my interview skills were a little bit rusty. But something about me had changed. It was easy to talk about my work, and maybe because I wasn't 100% sure I wanted the job, I felt freer to be open—to be the real me.
Everything they were offering was what I'd always hoped for. All the work that I'd put in over the years had earned me this interview spot. The questions were easy, and my answers flowed out.
I knew animation. I knew how to do this. It was knit into the fabric of my artist’s heart.
As we were wrapping up our conversation, Dusty leaned back with a thoughtful smile. “I’m truly impressed with you. Honestly, I can offer this role to you right now. I understand if you want to take some time to think about it.”
I frowned. “I thought I needed to meet with other people.”
He chuckled. “I always say that. Makes rejection a lot easier, you know? I know you’re the perfect fit for this. I don’t know what Dream Ink was thinking, but their loss is our gain. What do you think?”
I was excited. I felt validated. All my hard work hadn’t been for nothing. I blew out a breath, trying to find the right words.
Finally, I found them. “I do need to think about it, and well, I have a question. Do . . . do you happen to have any options for remote work?”
His expression turned contemplative. “Well, we do. But not with an art director role. We have one storyboarding position that could be remote. We have an animator role open as well that can be remote, but you’re required to come to the San Francisco office once a quarter, possibly more during a project.
The thing is, those jobs are not as high paying as the one you applied for. ”
“I know,” I said.
“I really think you’d be perfect here. Last I saw, you’re living in LA, right? I think you’d love it here. Our team is a good one.”
He was probably right. And based on our interview, I already felt a lot better about this than Dream Ink. “I need to think about it.”
Dusty nodded. “Okay. Well, don't spend too much time thinking. I always say trust your gut. I'll follow up with you on Monday.”
Monday. The day I was supposed to leave. And yet I hadn't booked a flight, or a car, or any other way out of Texas.
“Monday sounds good,” I confirmed. “Thank you again, Dusty.”
“Of course,” he said. “Take care.”
The call ended, and I leaned back, staring out the window. It was beautiful out today. The sky was cornflower blue with puffy clouds hovering over the Davis Mountains in the distance.
That was the best I’d ever done in an interview.
“Shit.” I rubbed my chest. It all felt so real now.
I picked up my phone and shot Dallas and June a text.
Me
Can we talk? Soon?
Mr. Knight in Shining Armor
Yeah. Everything ok?
June
I can take a break
Me
I’m at the gallery but can meet at bloom
Mr. Knight in Shining Armor
give me twenty, I’ll be there
Twenty minutes later, I felt like I was going to throw up.
The nerves were killing me. I was practically shaking in my shoes as I opened the door to Whynot Bloom. Dallas and June were already standing inside, worry radiating from them.
“Sorry,” I said. “Everything is okay.”
Dallas immediately let out a relieved breath. “Okay, good.”
He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and offered a soft smile, although the worry hadn’t left his eyes yet. Tension hung in the air like a building storm.
June cleared her throat. “What’s going on?”
“I had an interview,” I started. “I just got out of it.”
Her expression immediately fell flat. Unreadable.
“They want to take me on. It’s in San Francisco with a studio that’s really good. Everything about it is good. I could take it . . . or I could stay here,” I said, unable to keep the hope out of my voice. “I could take a remote spot, and it would be less pay, but—”
“Don’t stay,” June said.
My words faltered. “Wh—what do you mean?”
Her eyes raked over me, but her face was still unreadable, like polished stone. “Why on earth would you stay?”
“Well . . .” I trailed off, my breathing turning shallow. “Because of us.”
She held her breath, then shook her head. “You shouldn’t do that. You’ve worked so hard for your career and staying here, in the middle of nowhere, for two people you just met is a terrible idea.”
I felt like the rug was being ripped out from beneath me. Had I been wrong about the three of us? Had all these feelings just been one sided?
“June,” Dallas said, his brows pulling together. “Madi staying would be a dream come true. It’s not a bad idea—”
“I’m not doing this,” she snapped.
“But we could have the chance,” I insisted. “For forever. For making this our life—”
“I don’t want that chance.”