Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4) Elizabeth Hayley (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) đź“–
- Author: Elizabeth Hayley
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With so many offerings, I’d expected the building to be larger. As it was, it looked like it might have once been a church or maybe a Catholic school. Even though the website said the center was nondenominational, it held a certain Gothic feel that made me almost expect to see stained-glass windows and a bell tower.
A woman at the front desk directed me down a long hallway toward the back of the building when I said I was there for an interview with Safe Haven. My heels clacked against the tile floors and echoed in the quiet halls. Ransom had said there was a week of camp left, but I wasn’t sure where that took place because the building was almost eerily quiet.
I arrived at a door with a placard beside it that read Safe Haven. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and immediately met the shrewd gaze of an older woman sitting behind a desk.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone somewhat accusing, as if I’d just barged into her bedroom.
“Yes, my name is Taylor Peterson. I have an interview with Mr. Gillette.”
“Have a seat. I’ll tell him you’re here.”
I turned toward the smattering of plastic chairs pushed up against the cream-colored wall, and then jumped a mile in the air when the woman shouted behind me.
“Harry! Interview’s here.”
That was certainly one way to let him know.
“Be right there, Edith,” a voice shouted back.
What the hell was this place? Even a walkie-talkie would’ve been better than shouting between rooms. But paupers couldn’t be choosers, so I slid onto a seat and gave Edith a small smile that she did not seem the least bit tempted to return.
A few minutes later, a harried-looking man hurried into the room. He looked to be in his late thirties, though his receding hairline perhaps aged him a little. But he had kind eyes and a wide smile, and when he approached me with a hand extended, I didn’t hesitate to stand and grasp it.
“Taylor?” At my nod, he continued. “Harry Gillette. Not related to the razors, unfortunately. Come on back and we’ll get started.”
Edith tracked my movements, and when I passed her desk, she said, “Harry, you want me to call your husband and kids to let them know you’ll be a little late today?”
Harry stopped short and looked at his watch before glancing up at Edith curiously. “It’s only three. I don’t think the interview will take two hours.”
She looked at me primly when she replied. “Just checking.”
I briefly wondered if I should be offended that Edith had pegged me as a home-wrecker after spending less than five minutes in my company, but it was honestly too amusing to be angry.
Poor Harry looked baffled but seemed to shake the curiosity. “Shall we?” he asked before heading into his office.
“Message received, Edith,” I whispered before following.
Harry’s office was small and cramped, made to feel even smaller by the fact it was covered in artwork that all seemed to be done by kids. His desk held frames facing away from me, but I had no doubt they held pictures of his family. He also had a PC that might have been built before I was born and two filing cabinets that both had drawers open. All in all, it was an endearing space that spoke of a hardworking man who was loved by many.
He gestured to a chair across from him, and I sat. He shuffled a few papers around on his desk before looking up at me.
“Don’t mind, Edith,” he said. “She’s convinced every woman under fifty has her sights set on me. It’s flattering, if not completely delusional. Not to mention”—he turned a picture around so I could see him and another man surrounded by four children—“I’m gay. But she enjoys looking after all of us, so I let her get her warnings in.”
So not as oblivious as he pretended to be. That was a good sign. And I couldn’t deny, knowing he humored the elderly woman made me warm to him even more.
“Okay,” he continued. “Down to business. I have your résumé and already called your references—all glowing, by the way—and Ransom’s told me great things, so I figured I’d tell you about the place, show you around, and you could tell me if you were interested. Sound good?”
I refused to let my mind dwell on the fact that Ransom had sung my praises to his boss. I’d already spent more time thinking about the man over the past few days than I was comfortable with.
“Sounds wonderful.”
“All the elementary schools in the area have their own extended-day programs run by the city, so we don’t get any young kids here. Safe Haven’s target demographic is middle school kids who don’t have anywhere safe to hang out after school. Either their parents are still working, their neighborhood isn’t conducive to safe play, or…their home isn’t a place they want to be. We occasionally also get some younger high school kids who come around, but not many. Most of them get involved in one of the specialty programs the center offers: tutoring, intramurals, things like that.”
“I saw some of the programs the center offers. It seems like a wonderful place.”
“It is. It’s helped a lot of people in the community since it opened fifteen years ago. Now, I know you worked at a program for older kids this summer. Any problems with working with slightly younger kids?”
“None at all.”
“Perfect. In a few minutes, I’ll show you around so you can get a better idea of how things run, but just to give you an idea of your schedule, kids enter Safe Haven through the back of the building so they don’t have to traipse through the entire center. Some get dropped off by a bus or van, and some walk, depending on where they’re coming from. They start rolling in about three fifteen, so we like
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