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Krishna glanced up at the girl that spoke to him, but he did not stop his work. The shears in his hands went right back to trimming the dead and damaged leaves away from an aloe vera plant while he inclined his head towards her in a nod. While he did not stop his work, he did begin his form of interview by giving her a direction, "Place it on the counter." After all, she had said she wanted to hand in an application; that meant it was already filled out, right? No need for him to stop or address her further.

From the corner of his eye, he took another, slightly longer look at her. Her attire left him unimpressed. The dress was fine--too dressy for working with plants, of course, but appropriate for a cashier position. It showed that she had at least thought about her appearance for the interview. The heeled shoes, however, made him arch a rainbow brow. Totally inappropriate for any position he had to offer. That made him comment as he threw one of the browned leaves carefully into a bin, "Your shoes would make your feet hurt."

"Suit yourself, but hard to stand in, much less bend in," Krishna replied with a shrug. Her attitude was admirable, on some level--she showed some willingness to take responsibility and to justify her choices. Disrespectful, though, a fact which made him sniff as he lowered the shears to give the aloe vera plant a good look over his progress. Satisified that his work could wait the few minutes that it would take to interview the girl with more thoroughness, he made his way to the counter to view her application.

He tore through the fancy wax seal without any comment. His opinion went noticeably up at her words, however, for two reasons. One, she knew the flower that related to the title of the shop. Second, she had given a compliment to his shop--a compliment it justly deserved. Nothing could ease the way more than flattery when it came to the florist. "Then your taste is better than half the people who walk into my shop," he replied, a backhanded compliment given in return as he scanned the application. Age--19? He looked up and scanned her up and down before looking at the paper again, commenting drily, "You look older."

Also no prior work experience. A bigger problem, and one that he had to address immediately. "What makes you think you can work here? What can you do?"

Heels might have been a deal breaker for her, but Krishna honestly couldn't care less. He did not bat an eye at her defensive position or her reasoning, "I have no qualms with sensible heels." Key word being sensible, of course. Those tapering little sticks she was standing on, while stylish, did not exactly fit his definition. "Just be prepared to clean them."

He cocked his head to one side as he listened to her answer, and although his golden eyes might appear distant, he was paying acute attention. She really was fascinating, in her way; the florist could easily imagine watching her at a bar or some other place where he had more anonymity and more time for observation. He was certain that she would have done interesting things. True, if he hired her on he would have more time to watch her but the problem with that plan, of course, was that as an employer he'd certainly have to interact with her too.

"All well and good, but do you know anything of plants? Are you willing to get dirty, or are you looking for more of a cashier position?" He held up a hand to indicate he wasn't finished before she even got a chance to answer. Some explanation was, sadly, required, as much as he hated to speak for so long, "Because my operations are small. Everyone does a little of everything. One day I might need you at the register; the next you'll be carting fertilizer or pulling weeds. Or running errands. Whatever needs doing."

"Krishna." He spoke his name as though that should be self-evident. Hadn't she done her research? Didn't she know who owned the place? Apparently not. "I own this shop, Ophelia." Just to acknowledge that he had, indeed, heard her name. No need to make a big deal out of it.

The florist considered what to say next, hating to mince words. "I've heard enough. Is there anything you want to ask me?"

He'd give her his decision after. The interview was supposed to be a two way streeth, afterall.

Good. No questions meant no having to provide answers. Let him save his breath and would allow him to get back to work. After the aloe vera, he needed to tend to the cacti, and then the ever-time-consuming roses. Oh, the time he spent on roses was more than he spent on many, many plants--but they were always popular, and they always sold. Not his favorite flower, but he could not argue with profit.

His expression was hard to read as he nodded in return, and he slid her application into a drawer under the cash register. Still, he had clearly reached a decision, and the ghost of a smile could be seen as he spoke again, Very well. Use your free time as you see fit. I'll see you tomorrow at eleven. We'll start with teaching you the cash register."