Free If I Were You by Lisa Renée Jones Page B

be resolved with the inference I will be paid
commission on my sales. The other reason though, is dauntingly big. If I fail,
if I must go back to my old life, it will destroy me.
    “You have to try,” I whisper to the empty room. “You have to.”
    New resolve forms and I shake off my fears. If I am to stay
here, if I can prove I’m worth keeping around, then I need to get busy. I
quickly dig into my testing and though the questions are challenging, I am
pleased at the ease at which I complete the first few exams. I’m just finishing
up a fourth, and stretching, considering seeking out a caffeine escape--this
time one that is supposed to be cold--when I hear a knock on my door.
    “Come in,” I call, not sure why my stomach flutters in
anticipation of my visitor, but the feeling isn’t completely unwelcome. It’s
been a long time since every piece of my day has felt like an adventure.
    An Asian man in his late twenties appears in my entryway.
"I'm Ralph, the accounting dude.”
    "Ralph," I say, with a nod, and I barely contain a
smile at both his ‘dude’ reference and his red bow tie and crisp white shirt.
There is something friendly about this man that I like instantly.
    "Yeah, yeah, I know," he says, clearly reading the
meaning in my smile. "I don't look like a Ralph. My folks wanted me to fit
into the American mold but they weren’t American enough to know ‘Ralph’ isn’t
exactly a cool name. But I like that it’s unexpected. It disarms people right
off the bat, and like you, it makes them smile."
    "I like that,” I say, smiling even bigger now. “I think
you should be in sales. You could make that work for you."
    He snorts. "And deal with all the arrogant rich people
that come in this place? No thanks." He softens his voice. "Mark is
all I can handle."
    Laughter bubbles from my lips. "You'll have to share
your secrets to that little trick."
    "I'll buy you coffee sometime soon and tell you all his secrets."
    "I'll take you up on that."
    He waves and departs, pulling the door shut behind him, and
I return to my testing. An hour later, the material has turned daunting and my
mood has shifted from energized to frazzled. I can see why I might be tested on
random collectible items, if I am to work with Riptide, but wine, opera, and
classical music? I know absolutely nothing about these non-art subjects and I
decide now might be a good time to find out how lunch works around this place.
    I head to the lobby and find Amanda behind her desk with a
tall, pretty young African American girl about her age standing with her.
"Hello Sara,” this newcomer greets. “I'm Lynn, and I'm interning here this
summer."
    Lynn is dressed in a cream colored suit, and her hair and
makeup is impeccable, but her personality is casual and warm. I chat with her,
and Tesse, also an intern, and girl who been at the hostess stand the night of
the gallery event I’d attended, joins us. I'm pleased that I like everyone I’ve
met. I feel good with these people. Unfortunately, Mary, a pretty, and rather
robust blonde salesperson closer to my age, is so busy she can only wave and
give me a quick greeting.  
    “So, Amanda,” I say when I am finally alone with her again.
“Is it common to be given testing on wines and music to work here?”
    She nods. “We have so many events that Mark uses the testing
to determine where we can best service the clientele. In fact, we have a wine
testing Wednesday night.”
    My stomach knots. Could wine really be my undoing?
    “Excuse me,” a woman in dark-rimmed glasses says, appearing
at the desk. “Can someone help me with a Chris Merit piece, please?”
    An image of Chris standing in front of me, holding his
jacket around me, makes my belly do a flutter. “I would be happy to help you,”
I offer, suddenly very eager to visit his display again.
    Amanda looks shocked, and I assume that means I’m not
allowed to be on the floor yet. I pretend not to notice and head to the sales
floor.
    An hour