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LITTLE EVIE

by Chloe Carpenter


Evie glanced in the mirror. An angelic face stared back at her with flawless creamy skin, cute nose and liquid hazel eyes beneath arched brown brows and dark lashes, contrasting with a tumble of blonde curls. She had always considered her waist-length pre-Raphaelite tresses to be her prize asset, and given her current desperate financial situation her hair was her only asset. She sighed, tied her unruly locks back in a pony tail, then applied a light coating of mascara and a touch of pale pink, shimmery lipstick.

"You'd better get this job girl," she told herself, "or ..." Her face fell. If she didn't get it there would be no option but to sell the house.

Pushing away the encroaching negative thoughts, Evie smoothed her dress and slipped on a matching navy blue jacket, then picked up her shoulder bag and left the house. Her interview was scheduled for 2pm, and she could walk the short distance to the department store in under twenty minutes.


She arrived fifteen minutes early and was shown to a small waiting area at the end of a wide corridor lined with offices on the top floor of the store. This floor housed the administration, personnel and accounting staff. Barkers was a family business and had been operating in this location for over 100 years, and in spite of the recession was managing not only to keep afloat but to make a profit in each of the twelve stores located throughout the country.

Evie sat and tried not to fidget. She glanced at the two girls seated opposite. One was an attractive yet tarty-looking brunette with a rather snooty expression. Heavily made up, she was wearing a designer-label outfit, ridiculously impractical high heels, and reeked of expensive perfume. She stared at Evie contemptuously, taking in her rather plain attire.

The other girl was totally different - she had a round friendly face with lots of freckles, and her ginger hair curled softly, framing her face. A pair of lively green eyes sparkled as she smiled at Evie. "Hi."

"Hi." Evie warmed to the girl instantly and returned a smile.

"I'm here for the job in Ladies Wear. Which one are you after?"

"The vacancy in the cafeteria," said Evie.

"Good luck."

"Thanks, and you too."

"You'll need more than luck," said the other girl dismissively. She gave Evie a snooty stare.

"Oh?" Evie felt intimidated but was determined not to let it show.

"I'm here for the cafeteria vacancy too and I happen to know I'm exactly the person they're looking for," she sneered.

"Well as you've both been selected for interview, you both stand an equal chance," said the ginger haired girl. She shot Evie a supportive look.

"Equal? No way. I've been doing the job for the past four weeks," retorted the snooty girl. She smiled smugly at Evie. "So you may as well leave now. No point in wasting everyone's time. Why don't you just piss off."

"Oh," said Evie. She felt crushed, and her confidence began to rapidly evaporate.

Before Evie could think of a suitable retort, the snooty girl gave a sudden radiant smile and batted her eyelashes at the tall man who had just stepped out of one of the offices. "Good afternoon, Mr Draper. Lovely to see you. How are you today?"

Evie looked up - into a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen. They belonged to a striking-looking man in his early forties. His dark hair was flecked at the temples with the first strands of silver. Although not conventionally handsome, there was something about him that resonated. There was an aura about him, a commanding presence. For some reason Evie didn't understand, she felt unable to look away. A fleeting smile curved the corners of his mouth and he gave her a nod, then turned his attention briefly to the snooty girl.

"Miss Smith," he acknowledged and then strode past without engaging further, and entered one of the offices opposite.

Miss Snooty looked most put out at the rebuff, and her pained expression gave Evie a small thrill of satisfaction. What none of the three girls realised was that Dylan Draper had booked the afternoon off, but had made an impromptu decision to cancel after hearing Caroline Smith's remarks to one of the candidates. The Smith girl was odious in the extreme, and she was also the niece of Celia Morgan, the personnel officer who was interviewing. As regional manager, he had substantial clout in the company, and far outranked Celia Morgan. When he strode into her office without knocking, she looked up with a frown, which rapidly changed to an ingratiating smile.

"Why, Mr Draper, what a pleasure. I was just about to commence the interviews. Is there anything I can help you with before I get started?"

"Nothing at all," he said smoothly. "I'm here in the capacity of observer, though I may take the lead at some point during the proceedings." To Celia's surprise and alarm, he pulled up a vacant chair and set it down next to her own. "Just three candidates this afternoon?"

"Er, yes. I-"

"And how many posts to fill?"

"Two. But-"

"Good. I'll take ten minutes to review the applications, then you can call the first candidate in." He reached for the pile of papers on the desk and began thumbing through them.

Celia stared at him, her displeasure evident. "Mr Draper ... this is most unusual. There really is no need for you to concern yourself with interviewing staff at this most basic level in the organisation. It's a waste of your valuable time to sit in on the interviews for a sales assistant and a catering assistant. I think-"

"Miss Morgan," he interjected icily, "do not presume to inform me of how I should spend my valuable time."

"Well, I ..." she began, clearly flustered. "I wasn't expecting you, that's all." She scowled as he scanned the applications, and gulped as he returned to the form filled out by her niece, Caroline.

"There appears to be an anomaly here." Dylan perused the form in more depth. "Caroline Smith doesn't have English and Maths at GCSE level."

"Er, no. But, I don't see that it matters much for a catering assistant post."

Dylan put the paper down and levelled a steely look at Celia. "How long have you been with the company, Miss Morgan? Two years?"

"Yes. Almost." The hostile expression returned. "Why do you ask?"

"You have worked as personnel officer for two years, for a company that demands a basic level of educational attainment for all employees, and yet you take it upon yourself to selectively ignore those requirements. Why?"

"Caroline Smith has been doing the job competently for several weeks. She has proven ability on a practical level. I have no complaints at all."

"Well I do. The girl is ill-mannered, foul-mouthed and lazy."

"How dare you make such false accusations," said Celia angrily.

"False? Do you deny that she has been late so many times she earned herself a written warning from her supervisor?"

How the hell does he know that?! Celia fumed. She swallowed and made herself respond calmly. "That may be the case, but I'm convinced she has taken the warning to heart."

"Whether she has or not is irrelevant. She is not qualified for the position, so she shouldn't have been selected for interview. Why did you select her, Miss Morgan?"

Celia was a strong-minded and assertive woman who was used to getting her own way, yet she quailed beneath Dylan's penetrating glare. "As I said, she's been doing the job on a temporary basis."

"And who gave her the temporary job in the first instance?"

"Well ... I did." Celia felt a rush of blood flame her cheeks. She began feeling increasingly apprehensive.

"And why was that?" Dylan watched the woman impassively as her mind raced to formulate an appropriate response.

"Er, because..."

"Because she happens to be your niece?"

Celia exhaled, her eyes glinting. Damn the man. "That has nothing to do with it."

"On the contrary, it has everything to do with it." Dylan leaned back and surveyed Celia through narrowed eyes. "I will not have you using your trusted position in this company to appoint family members who do not meet with the required criteria."

"Oh come on. Give her the bloody job. She'll be fine. I guarantee it."

"You are not in a position to guarantee anything, Miss Morgan. I'm demoting you to assistant personnel officer. Your post will be advertised. In the meantime, I shall offer it on temporary promotion to Kathy Carter."

"What? What?! You can't do that!"

"I can and I will. You've abused your position. Be thankful you still have a job at all."

"But ... for God's sakes - Kathy Carter is my assistant," she said contemptuously.

"Not any more," said Dylan. "You are now her assistant. I shall speak to her later in the afternoon. I have a feeling she'll jump at the chance to have a shot at your job."

"This is outrageous. I demand you to reconsider."

"My word is final, Miss Morgan. You should know that by now."

"Well stuff you, and stuff your bloody job!" shrieked Celia. She rose from her chair and made her way towards the door.

"As you wish," said Dylan. He made no attempt to persuade her to stay.

At the door, Celia paused, her mind racing. To now be in a position where she was subordinate to her former assistant was untenable. On the other hand, she couldn't afford to give up her job, and knew full well that if she exited in a snit, she would be doing herself no favours when it came to asking for a reference if she could find another position elsewhere. So, against her nature, she offered a halting apology. "I - I shouldn't have said that." Dylan simply stared at her, waiting. "I... I'm sorry." The words stuck in her throat and she seethed inwardly.

"Very well. Do you wish to remain for the interviews?"

"Yes. I do."

"Right. In that case, you may call Caroline in."

"But she was scheduled to be last."

"That decision has been reversed. You will call her in, and then explain that owing to an error of judgement - your judgement - she is not qualified for the position and will therefore not be interviewed on this occasion."

Celia gave Dylan a look that would have made many a grown man tremble, but on Dylan it had no effect at all. So she gritted her teeth and opened the door. "Caroline, come in, please," she said stiffly.

Caroline got up and sneered at Evie, and followed her aunt into the interview room. If she was surprised to see Dylan Draper sitting behind the desk, she didn't show it. She sat in the vacant chair without waiting to be asked, crossed her long slender legs, and smiled. "I'm delighted to be here," she announced, "and let me tell you, I'll be an asset to the company. I know the job inside out. I can do it with my eyes closed. I don't expect to be at this level for long, my sights are set higher - much higher." She batted her eyelashes again at Dylan and made sure her skirt hitched just a little higher up the expanse of thigh. "I have so much to offer. I-"

"Miss Smith," Dylan cut in, "your aunt has something to say to you."

Caroline blinked. She was under the impression that no one knew she was Celia's niece. She looked at Celia questioningly and saw from her expression that something wasn't quite right.

"Caroline," Celia began. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake."

"What do you mean, a mistake?"

"It's my fault," Celia continued. "I'm afraid you don't have the required academic qualifications needed for the job, so we can't interview you."



© Chloe Carpenter
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.