24
closing statement
Selah
Manhattan, NY | January 2, 2024
“Well, you’re fed, hydrated and satiated. Looks like my work here is done. I have closing questions prepared.”
I let out a guffaw.
This man.
“Sure.”
“Were you satisfied with my service today, Selah?” He mimics holding a clipboard, pretending to read from it.
“Yes.”
He nods, mimicking a drawn checkmark.
“Was I the most qualified candidate for the job?”
I pretend to think hard about his question.
“You certainly impressed me.”
His lips tick up on one side, and he swipes his tongue over his lip, considering something.
“The tattoo on your hip. What does it mean?”
“It’s from a song called Woman by Harry Styles.”
“It’s beautiful. You can imagine my surprise when I asked to feast on you and saw that very word etched into your skin. Would you call that a coincidence? ”
I hum. “I’m not sure, but it surprised me.”
“Do you like surprises?”
“Here’s a fun fact about me. I hate surprises.”
“You seemed to enjoy this one,” he counters with a smile.
He is something else .
“Will you think of me the next time you brush your teeth?” He asks and I snort.
“I’m strongly considering it.”
“I’m grateful for the opportunity to interview with you today. You’ve given me a clear overview of the position, and I think my experience can provide value. Do you have a time frame of when you’ll reach out to candidates?”
I stifle my laugh and keep playing along.
“Sometime within the next week or two.”
He nods understandably, still in character.
“There'll be no further questions. Thank you for your time, Selah.” He motions toward the door, grabbing his shoes and putting them on.
“I’ll be seeing you, Greyson.”
“Oh, you will?” he challenges.
“Bye.” I give him a flirty wave as he stands in my doorway.
“Bye, Selah,” he says softly, closing the door behind him.
I let out a squeal of excitement and call for Peach. I know she’s been hiding in fear of a stranger being in the house. I zero in on the note he left and flip it over.
I hope to hear you calling me Grey sometime soon. ;)
He is really determined about that nickname.
This reminds me of the deal I made with my mama. She is going to love this.
Whenever you find out just how good of a neighbor he is, give me a call and say ‘pinochle.’ Repeat it three times if he’s good and once if he’s not.
She’s at work right now, but I call anyway, and it goes to voicemail. I’m holding in my giggles at how ridiculous this is while waiting for the beep.
I say, “pinochle, pinochle, pinochle,” and hang up.