Page 6

I finally make it to the stop on the west side of the city limits and get off the bus. Pulling out the map I printed out from my bag, I try to get my bearings. I’m no good at following walking GPS directions. Figuring out my direction, I take a quick look at my watch. I’ve still got a half an hour before my appointment.

I try to keep my steps slow, to keep from sweating in the mid-afternoon sun, but I feel perspiration break out on my back. Lifting my hair off my neck, I duck into the shade which is only a small help.

Summers here are brutal, but at least they’re dry.

I do remember the humidity back in Iran, when we lived along the sea. I miss the water. But Vegas has become our home, and with all of Darius’s health issues, I’m grateful to live here in the States. We lost our mom to a heart attack two and a half years ago. Darius is all I have left, and I’d do almost anything to keep him healthy.

I reach Triston Smith’s house, the large iron gate blocking my entrance but not my view.

The house is massive, a pristine white structure with beautiful sloping roof lines, sitting amidst sweeping grounds. It looks like a fairy tale.

A voice sounds through a speaker. “Can I help you?”

“Honeyeh Karimi here for an appointment with Mr. Smith.”

A buzzing sounds and I push at the metal door within the gate. It opens to allow me to enter, clanging behind me as it closes.

Walking up the driveway, I can’t help but ogle the beautiful landscaping that is so lush and green despite the Vegas heat. When I reach the steps, the door swings open, an older woman in a knee-length black dress standing in the opening. “Honeyeh?”

“Yes,” I say, wondering if I should shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“And you. The staff calls me Mrs. Raith. Please come in.”

I do, the cool air delicious on my skin as I enter the massive entry with marble floors. “This way.” She points down a hall at the other end of the grand entrance and then begins walking so that I fall in step behind her.

I press my hands to my sides, keeping my steps light, as we enter the hall and move to the back of the house. She opens a door, revealing a small office, and gestures for me to step inside and take a seat.

I do as she requests, smoothing the back of my skirt as I sit.

Is Mrs. Raith conducting the interview? Will I work for her? Relief makes me wilt in the chair as she circles the desk and takes a seat.

I have no idea how Mrs. Raith will be, but not working directly for Triston will make this so much easier. I feel the tiniest twinge of disappointment, but I shut it down. This arrangement will be much healthier. In fact, if I could not see Triston at all, it would probably be best.

“So, Honeyeh. Mr. Smith has recommended you to join our house staff. Do you have any experience in the service industry?”

“Yes,” I nod my head. Smiling. “I was a barista and a waitress.”

She gives me a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I meant more of the maid variety.”

“Oh.” My cheeks heat. Of course that is what she meant. Trying to swallow down my embarrassment, I keep going. “I did have to clean as a barista, including complicated espresso machines.”

She nods. “Good. That’s good. Perhaps we can place you in the kitchen as support staff.”

My brow furrows. “Is that the open position. On the kitchen staff?”

Mrs. Raith’s eyes widen like my question has caught her off guard. “Not precisely. It’s just a good place to start here at the house and then we can promote someone else into the open position.”

That makes sense and I nod as I let out a long breath. Mrs. Raith seems kind and considerate. “I’m a quick learner, Mrs. Raith, and a hard worker. If you choose to hire me, I won’t let you down.”

Her smile softens. “I’m sure you won’t. Mr. Smith did mention that you might need some flexibility for doctor’s appointments?”

I nibble at the inside of my cheek. “I’m afraid so, I hope that’s all right. My brother is on the list for a liver transplant, but until the surgery happens…” And even after, should he be blessed with the opportunity, our situation is liable to be intense for a while.

She waves her hand. “It’s no problem. We frequently keep a few more staff members than essential so that we’re never lacking.”

I sigh with relief. “Thank you, Mrs. Raith. I’m very excited about the possibility of working here.”

She stands, holding out her hand, and I stand too, surprise surely making my eyes wide. Is that it? Is the interview done already?