Chapter Eighteen - I Don't Trust Myself (With Loving You)

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It's midweek when I find myself walking through the doors of Children Today for my entree interview and to say I'm nervous would be an understatement. I knew that not too much was on the line, I was interviewing to be a volunteer for crying out loud, but I couldn't help but feel that volunteering today could impact my entire career forever and that was scary.

As soon as I step inside the tall building downtown, a strong sense of comfort comes over me. I was sure that it had to do with the design of the building which was of course completely on purpose.

I take a few steps towards the front desk that was sat dead center of the expansive waiting room and clear my throat a few times to get the woman's attention behind the counter. She looks up from her computer screen, holding up her pointer finger and giving me a wide smile, "Just one minute, dear," she remarks.

The women looked to be around middle-aged, maybe younger if not for the lines around her eyes, which made her look quite mature. She wore a bright blue blouse and reading glasses that hung around her neck on a string, another dead giveaway of her age.

She eventually looks up from her screen and greets me with another grin, "What can I do for you?" she asks.

I swallow, remembering my reason for being here, "I have an appointment with Mr. Milton, it's for an interview," I tell her, wiping my hands down the sides of my black dress pants. Layla had insisted I wore them, alongside a silky light pink short-sleeved top which she insisted made me look approachable yet also professional. I had no idea she had thought of me as unapproachable, but I knew to just get dressed and not question her at this point.

"Name?" says the woman behind the counter. I start to squint at her until I realize what she's asking.

"Oh, its Blake. Blake Ashby," I say, trying not to sound so nervous. All she asked for was your name, Blake, chill out.

"Okay, Miss. Ashby, here are the forms that Mr. Milton will need from you," She hands me a clipboard with an attached pen, "You can take a seat and fill those out, Mr. Milton will be out to collect you in a moment."

I tell her thank you and quickly find a seat nearby. I exhale loudly before turning my attention down at the forms, only too feel my phone buzz inside the small purse I had brought, also compliments of the one and only Layla.

I search around in my bag for just a moment, grabbing my phone as it makes another vibration. I quickly unlock it to find two next text messages from Jaxon.

JAXON: Good luck with your interview, even though you don't need it.

JAXON: The luck, not the interview.

ME: Thanks, waiting to go in now.

JAXON: How about when you get the good news from Mr. bossman, we plan a date to celebrate?

ME: Wow, Jaxon, so smooth. Who says I wanna go on another date with you anyways?

JAXON: You're so funny, Blakey. Friday, 7 pm, I'll pick you up at your bedroom door?

ME: I haven't even had the interview yet, don't you think it's a little premature to plan a celebration?

JAXON: Guess I just have a good feeling about it. See you Friday!!

I couldn't help the smile that slowly crept its way onto my face as I texted with Jaxon. He had a way of making all of my nerves dissipate, at least for a few moments.

Realizing my limited time, I eventually move my gaze towards the forms, looking down to be met with an array of questions that instantly overwhelmed me.

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