"Mia, your phone is ringing," Hannah yells at me over the loud music playing in the background as I finish my final project. She is obsessed with Drake and his new album Scorpion. A 646 number I don't recognize flashes on my phone.
"Hello."
"Am I speaking to Mia Harriet Dawson?" the lady on the phone asks.
"Yes, who is this?"
The last time somebody called me by my full name, it was my grandmother, and I was almost getting kicked out of her house for smoking. I signal Hannah to lower the volume.
"It is Linda Jones from Substance magazine. After reviewing your application and reading your cover letter; we would like to hire you for the position of sex and relationship writer for the next six months."
Me? Sex and relationship writer? WHAT COVER LETTER!?
I had applied for that job after 3 glasses of Pinot noir.
Is this a joke? After applying frantically to over 120 companies for the past 6 months, this is the one job I get a call back from?
ME!? The girl whose last boyfriend was 2 years ago.
"Hello?" Linda asks. Oh shit, I am on the phone. Back to reality Mia. Of course, I will take the job. I will take any job. I am in no position to decline the role of a janitor.
I can't afford to be unemployed after graduation.
"I can't wait!"
Do I sound petrified? Can she tell I have no idea what the job description is for this role? I usually suck at lying. Okay Mia focus, I command myself. Just don't give any details and you will be fine.
"I have just emailed you the offer letter that I need signed and scanned back to me as soon as you can, should you choose to accept the position."
Oh my, she seriously means business. This is really Substance magazine calling me back, and I am royally fucked.
"I accept the offer, and I will email you back by the end of today."
"Do you have any questions for us, Ms. Dawson?"
Just a million. What is my start date? What am I supposed to write? Why have you hired me? Are you crazy? Do you fire people on the first day of the job?
"No, I have done my homework."
I haven't. I am a liar. Where are you even located? I don't know anything about the job I have just received, and you should be rethinking your decision to hire me.
"If you wish to discuss anything or need further clarification, feel free to call us back."
"I will. Thank you so much for hiring me."
"You are very welcome dear. Let me emphasize, the salary is non-negotiable for the first 6 months."
Even if it were negotiable, I wouldn't know how much I should be paid.
This is my first job ever unless you count my brief stint at Starbucks that lasted for a total of 3 hours.
"I understand. I think 6 months is a reasonable time frame to renegotiate my salary so that the company can better quantify my worth. "
If I last 6 months...
"Congratulations Ms. Dawson. Welcome aboard."
"Thank you very much, Ms. Jones."
The line on the other side cuts off.
My heart is about to jump out of my chest, and I can feel my pulse beating hysterically on my collarbone. What the fuck have I fucking gotten myself into?
I untie the messy bun on my head and my untamed black hair comes crumbling down. I should have gotten a haircut last Christmas, my hair is too long for my liking; they almost touch my butt now.
Hannah is sitting up on her bed, looking at me with her blue eyes wide open, waiting for me to say something.
I can't.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath in. I need a minute to process all this.
SEX AND RELATIONSHIP WRITER!?
Me!?
How am I going to wing my way through this one?
"Spit it out Mia" Hannah yells.
"I just accepted a job."
"I heard that much. Where?"
"Substance magazine."
"What?" I can see the shock dripping out of her pores, and I totally get it. The rug under my feet too has been pulled. I am not Substance magazine material at all.
"That is the number 1 fashion and relationship magazine in New York." She makes no effort to hide her astonishment.
The fact that it is in New York is relieving. I remember applying to it while binge-watching Sex and The City.
Thanks, Carrie Bradshaw.
Why did I get this position? More importantly, HOW did I get this position? What did I write in my cover letter? I have no idea. The reason drunk Mia and I don't get along is because of the trouble she causes for me. She is the queen of questionable decisions and she does things I would never in my right mind have the balls of doing.
"Are you an editorial intern there?"
Now that would have made sense because you see, I am a journalism major. I am interested in editing and polishing articles and had I gotten that position, I would have been jumping with ecstasy.
"Nope."
"Then?"
"I was hired as the sex and relationship writer."
Saying it aloud makes me blush. I feel conscious just thinking about the things I am pretty sure I have to write about.
I have had the worst relationship track record in the world. And sex? What is that even?
I am so screwed.
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