Despite how I tried to convince myself that it would be only a practice interview, since there would be no chance of me actually getting to work here once they found out I had a record, I really wanted this damn job.
“You came highly recommended. I was told you could fix anything with an engine.” Josh shot me a wry grin. “Your parole officer is a family friend. If he vouched for you, I’m sure you’re as perfect as he says you are for this job.”
A laugh slipped out before I could help myself. I should’ve known Gary, my parole officer who’d become a family friend, would have called ahead, and the thought made me smile.
I’d taken mechanics classes while I was away and aced every one. Working with tools was like breathing to me, the oddly natural feeling second only to having a pencil in my hand.
“I hate to speak in absolutes, but I’ve never come across anything I couldn’t fix or rebuild. Building bikes from scratch doesn’t even seem like work to me.”
He leaned his elbows on the desk, quirking an eyebrow.
“Tell me that when you have five lined up to finish in a few days. Also…” he started before cocking his head from side to side. “I was watching you as you waited. You reminded me a lot of myself. Everyone deserves a chance, and I’m happy to give you one.” He stood, a big grin splitting his bearded mouth. “Welcome to Falco Custom Bikes.” He stood and extended his tattooed hand. “Unless you’re not interested anymore.”
I shot up and took his hand. “I absolutely am. You won’t regret this.” I exhaled a long, relieved breath. “Thank you, Mr. Falco.”
“You can call me Josh. My uncle is Mr. Falco. And I’m sure I won’t. Victoria will give you all the forms and tax bullshit you need to fill out.” We both shared a laugh, and it felt so damn good to relax. I had a good feeling about Josh and about this job, as unusual as good feelings were to me since I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one.
He opened the door to his office and motioned to the desk in the front. I spotted the back of a brunette’s head and assumed that was Victoria.
“Tell her your start date is Monday, if that works for you.”
“Absolutely!” I cleared my throat, trying and, I was sure, failing to not look desperate as I held in a fuck, yes!
“Maybe with you here, we can finally get caught up. Even though it’s only September, Christmas orders are already pouring in.” He smiled before turning to head back to his office.
“Hey, Josh.” He turned to look at me. “Thank you. This chance means a lot.”
“I know it does. You’re welcome.” He smiled before closing the door behind him.
“I’m so sorry, give me one minute.”
My head swiveled toward the throaty female voice, and for a second time today, I was frozen in place. Her long, dark hair spilled over her shoulders as she nestled the phone into the crook of her shoulder, scribbling on a piece of paper before her gaze flicked to mine. She cracked a half smile, capturing me with her striking green eyes for a minute before she went back to writing. I’d never seen eyes like that before, other than the heroines who graced the pages of my comics. Her eyes were so bright, they were almost translucent, and in the brief time our eyes locked, it was as if they lasered right through me.
Her brow furrowed as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip. I clenched my eyes shut for a second to quit staring at her mouth. I’d been out of prison for close to a year, and my buddies loved to break my balls about my long dry spell. They were surprised I didn’t gorge on women the second I got out, but nothing and no one held my attention long enough for me to make an effort. My focus had been making ends meet in whatever ways I could, but in less than five minutes, this girl caught my attention, and I couldn’t look away.
“You must be Anthony,” she said after she hung up the phone. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Our main HR is in the South Carolina shop, and there are all these new procedures that are supposed to make things easier for when we get a new hire, but they already seem like a pain to me. But we can suffer together.” She giggled and stood, revealing an oversized Wonder Woman T-shirt with a frayed collar over tight jeans. She was casual but stunning, and I could end up in trouble if I wasn’t careful.
As the old saying went, I couldn’t shit where I ate, especially when it was a huge stroke of luck that I got to eat in the first place.
“I am, and you must be Victoria. Nice to meet you,” I extended a hand, and a tingle ran up my arm when her palm touched mine. What the hell was wrong with me? Granted, I might’ve spent the last of my teenage years in lock up, but this was far from my first time around a pretty girl. A blush crept up her cheeks before she slid her hand away from mine. Maybe she felt the same weird stirring?
I let go of her hand and settled into the chair in front of her desk. I didn’t need to start something up with the receptionist at my first real job and complicate the first bit of good fortune that fell into my lap. I’d learned to survive on very little, so I’d train myself to ignore the beautiful girl at my new place of business.
“Josh said to tell you that my start date is Monday.”
“Great, that makes it easier. Once you fill everything out, I’ll scan it and send it over to the main office, and they’ll hold your file. Payroll comes from there as well, so I’m just the middle woman.” She chuckled, and it was fucking adorable. “I promise this won’t take long, and unless we change systems or you update your bank account information, you’ll only have to do this once.”
“It’s no problem. Please take your time. I had no idea the interview would go that fast.” I leaned back when I spotted a familiar book in the corner of her desk. The black and white outline of a sinister Joker was difficult to miss.
“Are you reading The Killing Joke?” I asked, now noticing the Wonder Woman symbol sticker on the outside of her laptop.
“I am,” she replied while separating the papers into paper-clipped piles. “Have you read it?
“A few times,” I linked my arms over my chest. “It’s a dark book. Forgive the question, but what made you pick that up?”
She leaned forward and propped her elbow onto the desk, resting her chin on her hand. “Why? Because I’m a girl, I can’t handle the dark stuff?”
I smiled at the quirk in her brow.
“Granted, it’s not my usual kind of comic story, but I’m finding it more insightful than I thought. I’m an English major at NYU, and although I love all the purple prose of the classics, I needed a palate cleanser, so to speak. My stepdad is a huge Batman fan and suggested I pick it up for a change of pace now that I’m old enough to not get too many nightmares from it. I guess we’re all only one bad day away, right?” She crinkled her cute little nose at me.
Sweet Jesus. She was gorgeous, smart, and read comics. Was she meant to be some kind of test?
Anthony, here is the perfect woman, but don’t touch her!
“We are,” I agreed. One bad day away. One bad choice. That’s all it took for life to split into before and after. In the book, one bad day away was said to be the only thing separating the sane from the psychotic.
One bad day had been all it had taken for me to flush my life down the toilet, and today was the first day I was starting to fish it out.