Jay stared. “You know Delia?”
The receptionist looked up. “Jay? For the 9:00? They’re ready for you.”
The SUV idled at the curb. Black. Tinted windows. The kind of car that smells like leather and status. The passenger window rolled down with a soft electric hum. Hottie Get In The Bus For Job Interview
Priya pressed the elevator button. “She got me to my interview here, too. Eleven years ago. I was a mess. Nail bit down to the quick. She looked at me in the rearview and said, ‘Hottie, get in. You’re gonna be fine.’” A pause. “I got the job.”
A small smile. “Delia still driving?” Jay stared
At 8:41, the woman’s toddler dropped a croissant on the floor. Jay picked it up. She laughed. He laughed. For a moment, they were just two people on a bus, not two gladiators about to step into the arena.
“So did I,” Priya said. “See you Monday.” Jay walked out of the building into a light rain. His phone buzzed. Marcus: “So? Did the magic bus get you the job?” For the 9:00
At 8:24, the bus groaned to a stop at 14th and Main. A woman got on. She was carrying a cardboard box of pastries, a toddler on her hip, and the kind of exhaustion that only comes from being awake since 5:00 AM. Her blazer was navy blue. Her heels were sensible. Her résumé, Jay noticed, peeked out of her tote bag.