"Shanna Swendson - Enchanted, Inc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swendson Shanna)

Mimi was a small price to pay to avoid that. But it wouldn't hurt to start looking for
another job, now that I had some non-feed-and-seed experience under my belt. It
would be easier to hide my roots at the next job because they wouldn't have known
me when I was straight out of Texas. That would have to make things better.

The new mail indicator was blinking on my computer. I clicked on my e-mail
program and saw a message saying, "Job opportunity." I knew it was probably
spam, offering me the chance to work at home stuffing envelopes or something lame
like that, but given the day I'd already had, I opened it.

"Dear Kathleen Chandler," it said, "Your experience and work ethic have come to
our attention, and we believe you would be the perfect fit for our firm. This is a
once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you can't afford to pass up. I can promise you'll never
receive a comparable offer, in New York City or anywhere else. Please reply via
e-mail or call at your earliest convenience to schedule an interview."

It was signed, "Rodney A. Gwaltney director of personnel, MSI, Inc." A Manhattan
phone number was under his name.

I stared at the e-mail for a good, long time. It was very, very tempting, and it might
not hurt to find out more, but one thing I'd learned in my small-town business
experience was that if things sound too good to be true, they probably are. I couldn't
think of any reason anyone outside my company would have the slightest idea who I
was to know anything about my experience and work ethic.

With a disappointed sigh, I deleted the e-mail. The last thing I needed was for Mimi
to accidentally see a job offer open on my computer screen. I promised myself that
I'd borrow my roommate Marcia's computer that evening to search the online job
listings and get myself out of this loony bin as soon as humanly possible.



two
I would have walked home from work that day even if I hadn't been desperately
trying to save money. On bad days the long walk up Broadway lets me blow off
some steam, while the varied sights, sounds, and smells provide enough transition
between work and home that work seems like it belongs to another lifetime by the
time I get home. If I just go belowground after leaving the office and emerge
aboveground at home, I'm still in work mode when I get home, and I hate subjecting
my roommates to that. Cringing isn't a good look for me, and I didn't want them
knowing just how bad things were. The last thing I needed was them sending me
home because they were worried about me not being cut out for New York after all.

I was still muttering curses at Mimi under my breath as I changed shoes in the
building lobby. Then I stepped outside, cut across to Broadway and began the long
hike. The day had only gone downhill after the staff meeting, and more than once I'd
been tempted to retrieve that job offer from deleted mail, even if I knew it had to be a
scam. A nineteenth-century sweatshop seemed like a saner working environment than
laboring under La Diva Mimi.