“This job might be a little…unconventional for you,”
Jerry began, searching for the right words, trying to be delicate.
“It’s long days, long nights, hard physical labor and you’d be
on the road constantly.” His eyes skittered around his desk and
his hands straightened his pen, then his name plate, then his pen
again.
“Is it because I'm a chick?” She asked, seeing the
slight break in his serious demeanor and his eyes flicked to Carl.
Carl slouched back in his chair and rubbed his chin with
his fingertips. “No, it's 'cause you're pretty.”
Lenny felt her mouth tug up slightly
on one side. She could see him measuring her, gauging her reaction,
testing her. So she remained silent.
Carl studied her quiet reaction for a long while. But
it was Jerry who asked the next question. “What makes you think
that being an assistant is where you'd...fit?”
“I'm organized, I work hard and I have nothing keeping
me in town,” she answered honestly. “I'm not afraid of dirt and
sweat and I know I can do the job well.”
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