The Runaway

Chapter Eight

        I woke up to my alarm early the next morning.  I made coffee, hopped in the shower, and had a nutritious breakfast.  I curled my hair, put on more make-up than usual, and slipped into the chosen outfit the boys had liked.  I headed out the door with a bounce in my step, optimistic and confident about my interview. 

         I took a taxi to the New York Magazine offices, going to the correct floor and telling the secretary my name.  “Mr. Taylor will be right with you, Ms. Finn.” She said, showing me her perfectly white smile. 

         I sat down in an oversized chair, clenching my portfolio as the nerves finally arrived.   Who am I kidding? I thought to myself.  I’m not qualified for this job!  I have to start at the bottom, and this definitely isn’t even close to the bottom.  Suddenly, a tall gray haired man walked in the room.  He was wearing a black suit and blue striped tie, looking around fifty years old.  He smiled at me, showing dimples and high cheekbones. 

         “Ms Finn, I presume?”

         I nodded.  “Yessir.  It is so nice to meet you, Mr. Taylor.”

         “The pleasure is all mine.” He said, giving me a firm handshake.  “Follow me right this way.” He commanded, and I followed him behind two wooden doors. 

         His office was huge, containing a desk fit for two, fish tank, couch, fireplace, and flat screen TV.  Every piece of furniture was very modern, and the walls were painted maroon.  He had a diploma from NYU hanging directly above his desk.

         “Have a seat.” He said, and I sat directly in front of his desk, in an extremely comfortable chair. 

         The interview lasted about twenty minutes and included Mr. Taylor shooting off numerous questions about myself.  I had given him my resume, and he questioned nearly everything on it.  He asked me why I had stayed at home for school and why I had waited until now to get a job in journalism.  I explained that I had tried getting a job in South Carolina, but most places weren’t looking for beginners.  He asked me about my works from college and how people reacted to them.  He asked me why I wanted to be a journalist and how passionate I was about it.  I had no trouble answering those questions, since writing had always been my favorite thing to do. 

         Lastly, he gave me feedback on the article I had written.  “The concept is quite intriguing.  In so many cases, we hear about the city from someone who has been a New Yorker for their entire life.  In your article, we see NYC from a new perspective, in a new light.  I think readers would enjoy reading your stories about places, maybe finding out new things about their favorite spots.  If you keep your articles light and comic like this one, I think it has great potential.”

         I couldn’t hide my surprise, widening my eyes and dropping my jaw.  “Wow thank you, Sir.  That means a lot coming from you.”

         “Now you will need to compromise with me, I’m afraid.  We will be picking the places that you write about, at least at first.”

         “I’m completely fine with that.”

         “Good. Well then, you’ve got the job.  I look forward to working with you, Ms. Finn.”

         I smiled, giddy. “Thank you so much, Mr. Taylor.  I won’t let you down.” I promised, shaking his hand.  “When do I start?”

         “Come in on Thursday at 8, the paperwork should be done by then.”

         “Okay, thank you again!” I said, leaving his office.  It took everything I had not to do a dance out the door.