We Interrupt This Date by L.C. Evans

Listen,
sweetie, I can do you a tarot reading if you want. Give you an idea
of how your ghost business is going to work out. Hey, stop looking
at me like I stabbed you or something. You were going to leave
anyway, right?”
    I bit my lip. She could stand there cooling
her chest in my office that was hot because the window was stuck
shut and Odell wouldn’t let me have a fan. She could say she was
sorry when she wasn’t, having already forgiven herself, when here I
was out of a job and in danger of losing everything.
    A surge of anger rose toward my throat and I
fought it back down. After all, I was the one at fault, I was the
one who couldn’t keep quiet last night.
    “You’re right.” I forced a smile, showing my
teeth. “No harm done.”
    “Of course not. The Universe knows what it’s
doing, it always does. You’ll see when the money starts rolling in
from that new job. When’s your last day?”
    “I have a week. I’m supposed to train Odell’s
niece to take over.” I hoped she liked rude phone calls from
customers with cash flow problems.
    “I’m going to miss you.” Patty leaned over
and gave me a hug. “But who needs Odell, anyway? Stingy. Attitude
problem. Drives a car that’s five sizes too big for him so he can
compensate.”
    “Gee, you think so?”
    Patty read at least one self-help book a week
and was forever giving me psychological sketches on everyone we
knew. I had little faith in her skills, but her lectures on topics
such as the inner enabler crossing paths with the classic energy
vampire usually made for interesting conversation.
    She wanted me to go to lunch with her at
Sticky Fingers, but I wasn’t in the mood for ribs. I wasn’t even in
the mood for lunch. After she left, I got myself a cup of coffee
from the “break room,” a large closet at the back of the store with
a coffeepot and a broken microwave crammed into a corner next to a
box of paper towels.
    Then I logged on to the Internet and started
my job search with the online newspaper ads. I found only three
positions to apply for, and two of those asked for legal office
experience, which I did not have. The other said someone with a
good phone voice was needed immediately in a vet’s office. I
supposed my phone voice was as good as anyone’s. My fingers
shaking, I punched in the number.
    “I’m calling about the receptionist
position you advertised in the Post and
Courier .”
    “Right, that ad is pulling a ton of responses. Before
I decide if I should have you come in to fill out an application
and talk to the doctor, tell me a little bit about yourself. Do you
have receptionist experience?” The female voice on the other end of
the line sounded like it belonged to someone who was pursing her
lips between each sentence.
    I glanced at my desk searching for
inspiration. Once a customer had come into my office and paid in
person. Another time, someone had stood in the doorway and asked if
Odell was around.
    “Sort of,” I replied. “In my current position
I’m responsible for answering the phone and doing the billing as
well as dealing with customers who drop by.” Both of them.
    “Okay, you work in an office; good for
you. But do you have veterinary office experience? Dr. Turnbill specializes in reptiles and
he likes to hire people who are used to handling
animals.”
    “No, but I love animals and I learn fast.” I
could even learn to love snakes and lizards if it got me a job. “My
mother has two Chihuahuas,” I added, then clamped my mouth shut so
I couldn’t say anything else stupid.
    “I’m sorry, but I don’t see any point in
letting you come in. We have a number of better qualified
applicants.”
    Better qualified applicants? Somehow I
doubted the streets of Charleston were overrun with reptile
handlers who had office experience. But unless I decided to stake
out Dr. Turnbill’s office and speak to him when the dragon manning
the front desk left for the day, I wasn’t going to get the job.
    I sat