A Hire Love. Candice Dow

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СКАЧАТЬ put your job on the line.”

      She laughed. “Sike. Can you just calm down, though? I’m sure he’ll be there. These guys are looking for work.”

      I sighed. “No wonder he’s looking for work. He can’t follow directions. He’ll still be looking in thirty seconds.”

      “Have you checked to see if Paxil will work for you? That seems to be a milder alternative to Prozac.”

      “Screw you.”

      After our quick laugh, I hung up and put an X across his resume. Tardiness will not be tolerated was the note I placed beside the name. The waitress walked over with a new bottle of the same sixty-seven dollar Merlot that I had just emptied. I raised my hands. “No, thanks. One bottle is enough.”

      She smiled. “The gentleman at the bar sent this over to you.”

      A milky brown brother with that deep red undertone strolled toward me. His clean shaven face exposed the true dimensions of his features and it appeared that the clay-maker shaped everything to perfection. He was a work of art and I wanted to purchase the sculpture with no questions asked. When I finally caught my breath, I looked him up and down. Now he’d put a spin to the script that had my head spinning. He wore a khaki designer blazer, with a crisp white shirt. Jeans. Cowboy-inspired brown shoes and a brown leather belt. He grabbed the chair and asked, “May I?”

      I nodded affirmatively. Was he technically late even though he was at the bar? Hmmm. Let’s see. He was much too gorgeous to reprimand. My inquiring mind concluded he was about six-two and around two hundred thirty pounds with ten percent body fat. I extended my right hand and his brown skin fused with my brown skin. We were a perfect match. My nose inhaled the pleasurable scent of my favorite cologne. His deep set eyes gazed into mine, as his soft lips melted on the top of our grip. When he sat down, I crossed the fingers of my left hand under the table.

      He asked, “Awkward, huh?” I nodded and he continued, “Yeah, I’m sure this is pretty hard. I’ve been sitting here watching the competition.”

      “So, what did you think?”

      He laughed. Was he showing his sense of humor or was he laughing at my unconventional method in finding a date? I raised my eyebrows. “So?”

      “Well, I don’t like to bad talk my opponents. I like to let my skills shine through and allow my director to discuss the others’ talents at his—” he nodded toward me—“or her leisure.”

      “Makes sense. Um…”

      He waited patiently as I organized my thoughts. “So, how long have you been acting?”

      “Practically all my life…”

      “Really?”

      “Yeah, my mother was a stage mom. I did several commercials as a kid. A few little kids’ shows.”

      “‘Romper Room?’”

      He chuckled. “Yeah, I was actually on a few episodes. I did a gang of stage plays in my teens.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve always loved performing, but then I went to college.”

      “Why did you say it like it was a death sentence?”

      He shrugged his shoulders. “Not a death sentence, just a dream deferred.”

      “What school did you go to?”

      “H-U.”

      “Which H-U?”

      “Don’t play—the one and only, Howard U.”

      I shrugged my shoulders because I’m not hip to the whole HBCU civil war for supremacy.

      “So, I take it that you didn’t like school?”

      “Oh, I loved school. It was corporate America that I had a problem with,” he said.

      My dancing eyes questioned what he meant and he explained: “Work made me miserable and I regretted putting acting to the side for school, because I felt like it was too late to go back to what I was put here to do.”

      “How old are you?”

      “I’m twenty-seven.” He sighed. “You know most actors were building their resumes while I was in college. I was way behind the eight ball.”

      “So…”

      He laughed. “One day I caught a taxi to work and my stomach balled in knots. I told the driver to take me home and I set my sights on acting. I stopped worrying about my resume being good enough and focused on my talent and the drive in my heart.”

      “How long ago was that?”

      “Two or so years ago.”

      “How has it worked out so far?”

      “It was pretty steady at first. No big breaks. Several low-budget commercials, stage plays. Enough to stay afloat, but over the last few months things have almost come to a halt.”

      “What field did you work in when you—”

      “Accounting.” I raised my eyebrows and he added, “I’m much better at acting, I mean, auditioning than I am at accounting. I’m an audition expert.”

      I laughed. He shook his head. “I’m good at what I do.”

      I laughed harder. “I believe you.”

      “Nah, you think I’m joking. I can audition my butt off, but the decision is subjective.”

      “I feel you.” I reverted to the script. “You know that good money management is a requirement. You can’t make sound investments if you can’t handle money. Right?”

      He whipped out his Palm Pilot and turned it around for me to see. “I believe the exact wording was to be continuously learning about investing and money management.”

      “Well, you get the point, right?”

      His humble smile collided with mine. We chuckled.

      “What did you hate so much about work?”

      “The lack of creativity. See, creative people can’t thrive in corporate America. It robs us of our soul and for me, it wasn’t worth it.”

      “I do understand.”

      “I believe in following your heart and that’s what I’m doing.”

      “What will you do if it doesn’t work out?”

      “Have you ever heard that what you believe is your destiny? I’m a positive man.”

      “Yes, but you also have to be a realist. You should always have a backup plan.”

      “A backup plan is a submission to defeat. Your heart will give you the okay when it’s time to give up, but not until then should you consider a backup plan. Backups distract focus and unconsciously СКАЧАТЬ