Page 19 of A Tempting Seduction

“You look perfect,” I said, opening the door wider to let her in. I reached out to grab Suzy off Fiona’s hip, and the little girl’s eyes lit up. I cuddled her close.

“I don’t look perfect, I look like I'm about to throw up.”

“That's just pre-interview jitters. Where’s your car?”

“Why are you going to fow up, Mommy?” I looked down at JR, who was holding Fiona’s hand, and tried not to laugh.

“Honey, your Mommy’s just being silly. She’s not going to throw up. Now, follow me. I've got everything set up in the back office.”

Two minutes later, Fiona was nervously checking her make-up in a hand-held mirror. I was crouched on the floor of my office, helping JR build a spaceship out of Legos while Suzy explored the fascinating world of empty coffee filters. The kids had taken to their temporary playground with the adaptability that only small children possessed.

“Why are we hiding?” JR asked, his four-year-old brain cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

“We're not hiding, sweetie. We're having an adventure while your mommy goes to a very important meeting.”

“Why is it ‘portant?”

And there it was. His favorite word. ‘Why’.

“Because your mommy is very smart and very talented, and there are people who want to give her a job so she can use her talents to help other people.”

He reached for another red block, but then stopped and looked up at me. “Why does she want a job?”

“Because jobs are how grown-ups earn money to buy things like food and toys and gas for the car.”

He clicked the red block into a blue block, and I thought that the interrogation might be over.

“Why do grown-ups need money?”

Suzy chose that moment to attempt to eat a coffee filter, giving me an excuse to redirect the conversation. “JR, can you help me keep your sister from eating my supplies? That's a very important job.”

His little chest puffed out with pride. “I'm good at important jobs. Will I get money?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The kid was a pistol. He didn’t miss a trick. “If you do a very good job, then I will give you some money.”

“Ruby,” Fiona whispered. “Don’t encourage him.”

“The sooner you go to the interview and come back, the sooner you can retrieve them from my bad influence.” I grinned.

Fiona hovered in the doorway, clutching her purse like a lifeline. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“Fiona.” I stood up and crossed to her, placing my hands on her shoulders. “You've been preparing for this interview for two weeks. You've researched the company, practiced your answers, and picked out the perfect outfit. You're ready.”

“What if they ask me to demonstrate something? What if they want me to use equipment I've never seen before?”

“Then you'll tell them you're eager to learn. Enthusiasm counts for a lot.”

“What if they think I'm too old? Too out of shape? Too... broken?”

The last word came out as barely a whisper, and my heart ached a little for the woman who'd been made to feel like damaged goods by someone who should have cherished her.

“Listen to me.” I gripped her shoulders a little tighter. “You are twenty-eight years old. You are beautiful and intelligent and stronger than you give yourself credit for. You survived something that would have destroyed a lesser person, and you came out the other side with your kindness intact. That's not broken, Fiona. That's heroic.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back. “What if I don't get it?”

“Then it's their loss, and we'll find you something better.”

She took a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay. I can do this.”