Malcolm glanced up from his book to see a young man in a business suit standing in front of his desk. Early twenties. Clean-cut. All-American good looks. Perfect teeth that no doubt bought an orthodontist a beach house. His suit was expensive, but he wore it sloppily. His fake grin was just short of a condescending smirk.
“May I help you?” Malcolm asked.
“Yeah, I’m Jackson Vandiver. I’m here for an interview.” He jabbed a thumb back at the door opening onto the street. “This is Strategic Executive Staffing, isn’t it? I didn’t see a name, but the address outside says 356 Sycamore Avenue.”
Malcolm pasted on his own disingenuous smile. “Of course, of course. What time was your interview, Mr. Vandiver?”
Malcolm glanced at his watch. It said ten-twenty.
The young man shrugged. “Sorry I’m a little late. Traffic, you know.”
Malcolm only raised an eyebrow. “And the position for which you are interviewing?”
“Don’t you know already?”
“Please just tell me again,” Malcolm said.
He huffed. “Director of Marketing.”
Malcolm suppressed a snort. Assistant Director of Marketing, maybe. More likely Junior Assistant Director of Marketing. After a few more minutes making a show of shuffling through the papers on his desk, he motioned to the door on the wall opposite the entrance. “Go right in, Mr. Vandiver. Someone with be with you shortly.”
About ten minutes later the screaming stopped. Malcolm sighed as he marked his place in his book and rose from the desk. He couldn’t really feel sorry for any of them if they weren’t going to bother to read. The address for Strategic Executive Staffing was 356 South Sycamore Avenue. The sign on the door clearly said 356 North Sycamore Avenue. He was still shaking his head as he walked to the utility closet where he kept the mop and bucket.