Page 23 of Cinderella Is Faking It

“I know you’re nervous about the interview.” Parker leaned in the bathroom door while I fixed my makeup for my Zoom call. I should have been nervous about the interview, but my brain had been consumed by those ten minutes with August Beckett all weekend. Ten minutes that I definitely couldn’t tell Parker about. Or anyone. Ever. “So, this is kind of bad timing.”

“What’s up?” I asked, selfishly hoping he had done something horrible, so I’d feel less bad.

“Could you Venmo me the cancellation fee for the restaurant the other night?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I mumbled, putting the mascara down to fish my phone from my pocket.

“I wanted to wait until you got the job before I asked, but my mom’s car broke down and I had to send her some money,” he explained, words tumbling from his lips in a rush.

I couldn’t be even a little mad about him bringing this up before my interview when that was the reason he needed the money. Come on. Parker was so nice, he constantly helped out his parents, even if it put a strain on his own finances. “There you go,” I said once the money had gone through. I’d just pocket some extra food from the next charity dinner Cordelia would send me to.

“Thanks, you’re the best.” He blew me a kiss and checked his phone when it pinged with the Venmo notification. Something about that irked me. Like he didn’t quite trust me to send the right amount, or wanted to double-check that the notification really was my payment. And the fact that I got irked made me feel even worse, because I knew he had his thing about money, and that was so fine. I had enough of my own anxieties to understand the constant double-checking.

I was a horrible human being. There. I was a horrible person who did horrible things and had horrible thoughts. Perfect mantra for ten minutes before a job interview, right?

“Alright, I’m going to leave you to it. You got this. Text me the minute you’re finished, and I’ll come running back.”

“Thank you!”

My studio was too small for him to stay through the Zoom interview. It would have been too awkward, because he’d either be in the background, or I’d be sitting in front of a wall, but would be on display for him to watch me. Thankfully, he’d agreed to go get coffee, while I handled this.

And I did handle it.

The interview was amazing. Principal Baker was still as warm and welcoming as when I’d met him in person. Mr. Day and I immediately clicked because he was as much of a Jane Austen nerd as I was, and when Fitzwilliam decided to jump through the frame, that led us down a sidebar about Pride and Prejudice, because Mr. Day’s dog was called Darcy. And Mrs. Gretzki, who worked on the admin side of things, was a total no-nonsense organizational genius. She was still asking me about my color-coded note-taking techniques when the scheduled hour was up.

And then I had to wait. They literally put me in the Zoom’s waiting room, asking me to give them fifteen minutes to reflect.

My heart fluttered hard enough for Fitzwilliam to sit between my legs and rub his head against my calves instead of scratching them up. My nerves were so raw, even the demon child pitied me. I didn’t expect them to come to a decision today, but Baker said there was only one other candidate, so they wanted to make the call as soon as possible.

Oh god, what if the Pride and Prejudice chat had derailed the interview?

What if using Notion for structuring and prioritizing my tasks was horrible because that meant it was all stored in a cloud?

“Miss Edwards?”

I blinked, seeing only Baker’s face on my screen. It couldn’t be good that the others had left, right? That meant he wanted to break the bad news to me without an audience. “Hello again,” I said, pasting on a big smile.

“Thank you for waiting.”

“Of course.”

“In the name of all of us here at Truman, I would like to extend the invitation for you to join our staff in September.”

I blacked out after that. I vaguely remembered smiling and laughing and thanking him, but I couldn’t piece it together within twenty seconds of ending the call. I had a job. All other details just blurred.

I actually, finally, really had a job.

And my first thought was that I’d have to tell Parker in public, because I didn’t want to ruin this with another celebration that came in the form of his wet mouth on me.

Horrible person with horrible thoughts.

* * *

“I’m soproud of you, babe.” Parker pulled me closer against him and I had to jut out my frappuccino-holding hand to keep from spilling it down his back. A park bench had been a great idea as an oral-sex-repellant, but it also came with its share of physical boundaries unless you were down to jump into someone’s lap in public.

“Thank you,” I whispered and kissed his cheek.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before someone realized how smart you were.”