“Bish, what do you mean I’ve arrived at my destination? Here?”
I glared at my phone as if expecting it to answer. I pulled up to a dirt road, kept going until I located a gigantic open gate.
It was probably fifteen acres of land. I could see three buildings and a trailer. It didn’t look like a construction company. It looked more like a supplier of soil/stone.
“Did I get the address right?” I double checked, and it was. “Either I’m tripping or you are,” I told my phone.
The sound of big machinery, the smell of dry dust and soil and grease. Large hills of different-colored stones were organized meticulously in long rows. Huge trucks were coming and going from the lot—from eighteen-wheelers to tandems packed with huge amounts of soil or lined with boxes, probably filled with stones.
It was like a colony of worker bees—activity was everywhere. Everybody had a purpose. No one outside was standing still.
I looked at the three buildings and decided to go for the first one. It was a big, square modern building, with a slanted tin roof and earthy colors of red and brown wood paneling on the exterior walls. It was a gorgeous building, a testament to their workmanship. The other two structures looked marginally the same except with different types of roofs and exterior walls.
I knocked. When no one answered, I pushed open the door.
People were everywhere. I smelled coffee, papers, sweat, and dust. Conversations hummed, phones rang, printers and fax machines beeped. It was brimming with energy.
It was a big modern space, with a huge conference room walled with privacy glass and two rooms at the back. A black steel staircase led to a loft above the rooms. Light-gray concrete walls and flooring, exposed beams. It looked very industrial, but the finishing touches in the furniture added warmth.
On the front left side of the space was an enclosed room, walled with the same glass. It looked like a customer lounge, complete with a TV and chairs. Four massive desks sitting in a row along the wall dominated the right side of the space.
“Can I help you?” A girl who looked my age came up to me. She was wearing a hard hat, like most of the people I’d seen outside, a neon orange reflective jacket, and dirty jeans.
“I’m Kara Hawthorne. I have an interview scheduled in”—I looked up at the moon-size clock in the middle of the room—“five minutes.”
“Oh yeah, Deb’s expecting you. Just head on to the back. See the last desk over there? That’s Deb’s.”
“All right. Thanks.”
>
“No problem.”
I wasn’t nervous before, but I was nervous now. This should be easy-peasy for me. I’d done a lot of interviews and I was an expert on how to answer their questions. But as I approached the very pregnant redhead at the back, my heart started to drum in my chest.
You got this.
I’d never worked at a soil company or construction company before, but it shouldn’t be any harder than the other jobs I’ve had.
It’s double your hourly rate plus change. You have to bag this job. Plus, you might be working with designers and architects and engineers, and who knows what could happen in the future? You’ve always loved designing. Maybe you could pick up a thing or two.
Deb spotted me before I could approach her.
“You Kara?” She assessed me with shrewd, green eyes. She was beautiful, probably in her late thirties, and had a no-nonsense aura about her. Work, work, work, her eyeglasses, pencil behind her ear, short red hair, and chocolate-brown jacket said. I liked her already.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled. “Punctual. It’s not usually this jungle crazy. You’ve caught us on a good day.”
I didn’t mind crazy, I wanted to tell her, but she was already placing the phone to her ear. “Head on upstairs. I’ll tell Rick you’re here,” she said as she punched in numbers. “He’s the owner.”
I nodded and went upstairs. I felt a little like I was going to the principal’s office as I took the stairs. The room had the same look as the whole building—modern but warm. Big, dusty windows showed the activity from the outside.
There was another massive desk in the middle of the room—same as the ones downstairs. On top of it was a huge pile of folders, almost teetering from the height and weight of it, receipts and Post-it Notes, a mug of coffee beside a desk lamp. Two chairs sat in front of the desk. Jackets hung on metal hooks on the wall. It was a well-used workspace. It gave me a good feeling.
What if I didn’t get this job?
Of course you will! They’d be crazy not to hire you. You have a huge range of skills. You can even eat a whole tub of ice cream in one sitting. You can do this!