Interview
I sat in the interview room, wondering which one of the interviewers was going to do the bad cop routine. It was one of those conference rooms where the table dominates the room. The space around the table was a narrow perimeter that was just about enough for someone to pull a chair back and squeeze into it. As I sat down, I felt the queerest flutter in my stomach. I should have paid attention to it, but I ignored it. I twirled my fingers through my long, chestnut hair, being unafraid in...