Chapter 2 - The Stranger in the Brown Suit
“My greatest strength is probably attention to detail.”
Emily stopped.
“No. That sounds rehearsed.”
The stranger beside her glanced over.
Emily closed her eyes.
“Of course it sounds rehearsed. Because I rehearsed it.”
A faint smile touched the man’s mouth.
Emily noticed.
“You can laugh.”
“I wasn’t laughing.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“Maybe.”
She finally looked at him.
He was probably around 40, tall, dark-haired, wearing a brown suit that looked expensive without advertising the fact. He had the quiet confidence of someone who never wondered whether he belonged in a room.
Emily immediately felt more self-conscious.
“Big interview?” he asked.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You’ve answered the same question 4 different ways.”
Emily looked down at her folder.
“5.”
“Then you’re very prepared.”
That unexpectedly made her smile.
The elevator climbed.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
Emily inhaled.
“What would you say?”
“About what?”
“My greatest strength.”
He considered her.
“I don’t know you.”
“Exactly. Pretend you're interviewing me.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You want to practice with a stranger?”
“I have approximately 90 seconds before I embarrass myself in front of people whose shoes probably cost more than my rent.”
This time he laughed.
Emily stared.
“That was definitely laughing.”
“Fair.”
He straightened.
“All right. Why should Hartwell hire you?”
Emily froze.
“That’s the question I hate.”
“Which means it’s the one you need to answer.”
She looked at the floor indicator.
Twenty-eight.
“I work hard.”
“So does everybody who walks into an interview.”
Emily swallowed.
“I learn quickly.”
“So does everybody else, according to their résumé.”
She frowned at him.
“You’re terrible at encouragement.”
“You didn’t ask for encouragement.”
Something about that steadied her.
Emily stopped reciting.
“My daughter is 7.”
The man’s expression changed slightly.
Emily continued.
“For 5 years, I’ve gotten her ready for school, worked full-time, paid bills, cooked dinner, helped with homework, and figured out what to do every time something went wrong. I’ve worked when I was sick. I’ve learned software nobody trained me to use. I’ve found accounting errors because I couldn’t afford to be careless.”
The elevator became very quiet.
“So why should Hartwell hire me?”
She looked directly at him.
“Because when something becomes my responsibility, I don’t abandon it.”
The stranger stared at her.
Emily suddenly became embarrassed.
“That sounded dramatic.”
“No.”
His voice had softened.
“That sounded true.”
Thirty-two.
Emily exhaled.
“Thank you.”
Then the elevator jerked.
The lights flickered.
Emily instinctively grabbed the railing.
The elevator stopped.
“No.”
She pressed the button.
Nothing.
“No, no, no.”
“It’s probably temporary.”
“My interview is in 8 minutes.”
She hit the call button.
A voice answered.
“Security. We have a temporary elevator fault. Engineering is resetting the system.”
“How long?”
“Approximately 10 minutes, ma’am.”
Emily went pale.
Ten minutes might as well have been 10 hours.
She leaned against the wall.
“I’m going to miss it.”
The stranger watched her.
“You can explain.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“There are 6 finalists.”
She gripped the folder tighter.
“I checked.”
“You checked?”
“LinkedIn.”
Another almost-smile.
“They all have better degrees. Better companies. One has an MBA. I have a community college degree and 3 months of unemployment. Being late is all they’ll need to eliminate me.”
The man studied her for several seconds.
“Do you always assume people will judge you that quickly?”
Emily gave a tired laugh.
“People with money can afford to believe the world is fair.”
That silenced him.
She immediately regretted it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
He looked at the elevator doors.
“You may be right more often than I’d like to admit.”
His phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen but did not answer.
Emily’s folder slipped.
Papers scattered.
“Oh, come on.”
Both of them bent down.
A small folded note landed near his shoe.
He picked it up.
Emily reached quickly.
“That’s private.”
But he had already seen the handwriting.
Mommy, you can do anything.
He handed it back without comment.
Something in his face had changed.
The elevator restarted.
Emily nearly laughed with relief.
Thirty-three.
Thirty-four.
The stranger’s phone buzzed again.
This time he answered.
“Yes?”
A tense male voice came through loudly enough that Emily heard part of it.
“Sir, the board is waiting—”
“I know.”
Emily glanced at him.
Sir?
The elevator reached thirty-six.
The doors opened.
Emily hurried out.
“Thank you for helping me practice.”
“Emily.”
She stopped.
She had never told him her name.
Her eyes narrowed.
He glanced toward the name printed on her folder.
Emily laughed nervously.
“Right.”
Then she rushed toward reception.
The receptionist looked at the clock.
“Emily Carter?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. The elevator—”
“We know. Please sit down.”
Emily sat.
Thirty seconds later, a polished woman in a navy suit entered.
“Ms. Carter? I’m Vanessa Cole, Director of Operations.”
Emily stood.
Vanessa looked toward the elevators.
Her expression suddenly changed.
“Mr. Hartwell.”
Emily turned.
The man in the brown suit was walking toward them.
Everyone nearby seemed to straighten.
Vanessa smiled.
“I thought you were meeting the board.”
“I was.”
He stopped beside Emily.
Then he extended his hand.
“Emily Carter, I don’t believe we properly introduced ourselves.”
Her stomach dropped.
“Jonathan Hartwell.”
Emily stared at his hand.
Hartwell.
As in Hartwell Financial Group.
As in the company.
As in the CEO.
Jonathan’s eyes held the smallest trace of amusement.
“You were right about one thing.”
Emily could barely speak.
“What?”
“Your first answer was rehearsed.”
Then his expression became serious.
“But your second one is why I want to hear the rest.”
Across the lobby, Vanessa Cole’s smile disappeared.
May you like
And Emily had no idea that the most dangerous person in her interview was not the CEO.
It was the woman standing beside him.
