Monday morning came all too soon for me to properly get used to the idea of working for Psyre Prince at his up and coming consulting firm. I had finished out the last week at my current job, making sure not to let news of my opportunity slip from my lips, even though the desire to tell my boss to kiss off grew stronger with every passing day. I couldn’t risk giving up the current job until I had finished out the first week at PsiCoven, especially not when my job there depended on a woman I had never met. If this Carmina lady decided that she didn’t like me or couldn’t work with me, I would be back in the basement a week from Monday. The weekend flew by, the amount of time I thought I had to prepare for the new job dwindled faster than I had expected. At least I had managed to stop by the department store and browse the clearance rack on Saturday afternoon. There were actually quite a few nice outfits that were heavily discounted, which I took to be a good sign for the upcoming job. Sunday afternoon was pretty much swallowed up by hours of trying on the new outfits, mixing and matching them with what was already in my closet, and finally decided on what to wear after what felt like a million ensembles later.
My alarm was set to wake me up an hour earlier than usual, I wanted to have more time to make sure I looked presentable. I wasn’t too worried about seeing Mr. Prince again, he had seen me in worse situations already and based on the fact that he hadn’t recanted the job offer after the fiasco at the cemetery I felt confident that he would continue to keep an open mind. It was his office manager, Carmina, that I was worried about. I felt like I was a fox disguised with a feather suit entering her henhouse. She obviously had rule of the roost and my future with the company depended on her opinion and evaluation of my skills. After showering, dressing, and whipping up a nice healthy breakfast I was ready to make the first of the sick calls into my current job. I decided to go with the standard food poisoning excuse. That would easily account for a week out of work, presumably spent huddled beneath the covers of my bed wishing for death. My supervisor seemed to buy the wavering scratchiness in my voice as proof that my body was fighting off some horrible internal attack. He told me not to worry about anything and assured me that my files would be well taken care of until I felt strong enough to return. That had almost been too easy, but now that it was taken care of, it was time to head out and make my way to PsiCoven to face the music.
Since I had some extra time, I settled on walking to work, and making a pit stop by the more upscale coffee shop. I hadn’t gotten Psyre to narrow down his smoothie preference for me, he had simply told me to ask Carmina when I met her which did me no good this morning. I could always wing it, but I wasn’t too keen on that idea, I would hate to choose one of the concoctions that he disliked. He’d given me some clues about Carmina’s coffee preferences, clues that I would have to get the bubbly girl behind the milk steamer to knit together. I had memorized what the man told me just after our chance meeting ended. Two different kinds of chocolate, caramel, cinnamon, and mocha. It wasn’t much to go on, but I trusted the girl behind the counter and had seen her whip up something amazing from less. I was in and out of the coffee shop in less than twenty minutes. The barista had an idea of the drink I was talking about, so I asked her to make me two of those and the White Chocolate Mocha with caramel in all the right places that Psyre had mentioned Carmina ordering for him. I considered picking up a few other basic coffees but I had no idea how many others worked in the office and I couldn’t deal with the possibility of walking in with one short so I just stuck with the people I was certain about. Carrying the drink tray in one hand, I left the shop while pulling the business card from my pocket.
Upon arriving at the address on the card, I stood on the sidewalk and took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. It had been almost a year and a half since I started my first job outside of the orphanage. I had spent just shy of eighteen months inside that basement. Now here I was getting ready to take another huge step in what I hoped was a positive direction. At least back in the basement I knew where I stood. Starting over from scratch, even with a prior meeting with boss under my belt, was enough to have me on the verge of an anxiety attack.
Entering the building, I make my way to the office indicated on the card. It was now or never, make or break, and I was seriously praying for the former on both counts.
905, 1 JC
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