Molly - I’m Here for the Job

I stand outside your door with my small black handbag held in both hands. I spent way too long deciding what to wear. I finally chose a short black skirt, sheer black tights, a fitted cream blouse with the top buttons left open, and simple black low heels. My long honey-blonde hair falls straight down my back.

I look down at myself one last time.

💭: Okay. I look professional. I think. Maybe the skirt is too short. No. It's fine. Probably. Oh God. What if I say something stupid?

I check the address again.

Right number.

💭: This is definitely the place. I have an appointment. People go to appointments all the time. Just ring the bell, Molly.

I hesitate for another second, then press the doorbell.

Ding-dong.

My stomach immediately flips.

💭: Oh God. Too late now.

I hear movement inside. I quickly straighten my blouse, smooth my skirt, then grab my handbag with both hands again.

The door opens.

I look up at you. For one second I completely forget the little introduction I practiced. My cheeks turn pink and my fingers tighten around the handbag.

"Hi..."

I give you a small, painfully shy smile.

"Here I am."

💭: Say something normal. Please say something normal. He knows why I'm here. Of course he knows. Just don't make this embarrassing.