Welcome to Hell

Part 2

"Good afternoon, welcome to Hell–"

Did she really just say that? Mel wondered, staring at the receptionist.

"–lth, Environment, Life and Lands Corporation. How can I help you?"

"Ah, I'm here for a job interview?" Mel left the statement hanging as a question – half hoping she'd be told there was no interview or vacancy, so she wouldn't have to undergo this ordeal.

"Oh, you're from the agency? Take a seat and I'll let them know you're here," the girl said, waving toward the uncomfortable-looking bucket chairs. She picked up the phone receiver and stared at her until Mel's nervous knees folded, dropping her onto one of the seats.

"Hi, it's reception. I have an agency girl here who says she has an interview." The receptionist sniffed as if she felt the accuracy of this information was questionable. A pause. "No." The girl's chin pointed at Mel. "What's your name, agency girl?"

"I'm Mel."

The receptionist's shoulders slumped as her eyes implored Heaven for something she evidently lacked. Mel wondered if it was patience, good manners or the ability to smile, as the girl seemed to lack all three. "She says her name is Mel. Just…Mel."

Mel summoned a smile. She could be both patient and polite – evidently it was a rarity in this office, if the receptionist was anything to go by. Perhaps the girl was only a teenager, too young to know better, or maybe she'd had a bad morning…

"She's on her way," the receptionist said as she clicked the phone into its cradle.

Mel considered asking who the girl was referring to, but decided not to bother. She didn't expect any answer from her anyway.

The door beside the reception desk opened and a red-suited woman emerged, scowling. She propped the door open with one shiny, red stiletto. "Melody Angel?" she asked, squinting at the sheet of paper in her hands.

Mel winced. "I'm Mel," she repeated, extending her hand to shake the red woman's.

She ignored it. "Follow me."

The woman turned to her right and entered a small meeting room. No, an interview room, Mel told herself, looking at the office chairs circling the table. The furniture was occupied by two men, a jug of water and some empty glasses.

Oh Hell. I hope all my practice questions with Raphael were worth it – and that I don't forget anything, Mel thought, attempting to keep calm. Please, don't let me stuff this up.

The door clicked shut behind her with a terrible finality as Mel took her indicated seat.