She knew this wasn’t how interviews usually worked. They didn’t usually happen this fast, much less the same day the call was made. Except well...from what she had written about her interview with Dallas, it had happened like that, but it had been for a very illegal job not a legal one about legal matters. Still, she didn’t waste any time. When she made the call, and was asked to come in, she did.

That’s how the woman found herself standing in the legal office of one Steele Moore, waiting to be seen for the interview. She was dressed in black slacks, black flats, a gray blouse, and a black blazer. Her long white hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and under an arm she held a small portfolio containing the resume she had crafted last night.

While she waited, she took quiet inventory of the room, all the while pondering what the man could have possibly been up to after she had spoken to him as Stillwaterite.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Steele was flustered.

He was flustered, and he was annoyed because his alarm hadn’t gone off and damn the stupid phone for ringing at six in the damn morning to remind him of his interview, and damn that stupid Ashley for confusing him because Steele’s thoughts were definitely not about that a*****e at all. Not one bit.

He strode into the small law firm with a cursory glance at Nora, sitting with a stack of glitter pens beside her, sighed, and saw a tall, pale haired woman standing just beside one of the desks.

“Solas?” Steele said, a little out of breath. He tried for some semblance of sanity, sticking out a free hand towards her.

“I’m Steele Moore. You’re here for the position?”

There was a red price tag sticker stuck to his sleeve.


----------------------------------------------------------------

Solas had also low key been observing Nora and her...desk. It made her wonder what kind of work environment this must be. If it was desperate.

The woman immediately turned to Steele when he entered, and she was immediately studying him. Yes. Same man...except already she could pick up little signs to his current state. Him now versus what she could remember of him then he seemed a little more...ragged this time around. A little worn. If only she could remember more…

“Yes, and yes, I am.” She replied, a bit cool, but in the professional way. “A pleasure, Mister Moore. Thank you for seeing me so soon.” She reached out to shake his hand, firmly, and with her other hand (still clutching the portfolio) she quickly plucked the red price tag sticker from his sleeve. She’d dispose of that later.

--------------------------------------------------------------

There was just a bit of scruff on Steele’s jawline; a faint darkening that indicated he’d probably not had time to shave that morning - which he hadn’t. He’d run here straight from home, and now he was in a state of flustered irritation, because Rob still wasn’t answering his calls, and Nora was writing out what looked like a dossier in sparkling green ink, and he was supposed to be giving an interview to this calm, white haired woman in front of him.

Solas. That was it. That was her name, Steele reminded himself, as he gripped her hand, feeling the surprisingly strong grasp back as she shook it. A sleek black coat was draped over one of Steele’s arms, which was also the same one that had a briefcase clutched in one hand. He hadn’t noticed the price sticker.

He didn’t notice when it was plucked off, either, Steele glancing around the office. Nora was given a slightly pained look, and then he sighed.

Heavily.

“Well, come this way,” he said, gesturing her to follow as he lead her back to one of two offices that were situated at the back of the building. Steele stepped into the one on the right, which was tiny but extremely well organized and pristinely clean, in spite of his current appearance.

“Uh - you can sit down,” Steele added, with a wave of his hand towards the chair opposite his own very fancy leather desk one. “Let me just, uh - “

He really, really needed something to drink. Or something to eat. Like chicken nuggets.


----------------------------------------------------

Solas followed after Steele, making her silent observations. His office was immaculate, despite the rough start he was clearly having this morning. She sat in the chair he gestured to. “No rush, Mister Moore. I don’t have anywhere to be right after this, so please take the time you need.” To maybe get adjusted.

While he was doing that, Solas put into practice the tips she had been reading like mad last night. Dressed the part. Had the right documents for the part. She opened her small portfolio and pulled out her resume she put together last night. Simple, but clean, precise and filled. She slid it on the desk, and turned it around so that it would be facing Steele correctly when he seated himself.

“I’m ready when you are, sir.”

----------------------------------------------------

Mr. Moore. He liked the sound of that.

Steele put his coat carefully over the back of his chair, set his briefcase down beside his desk so that it leaned against the bottom of it, and then reached for a file folder that was lying to the left of his keyboard. It had prospectives written across it in sparkling blue ink.

Steele sighed.

At least this woman - Solas - looked as though she was ready and willing to do what was needed to be professional. Steele reached out a hand for the resume he had seen her extract from her portfolio. All of his fingernails were carefully buffed and cleaned.

“So, uh - “ Steele tried to relax. “What experience do you have, exactly?”


----------------------------------------------------

She couldn’t help but watch him. Study him---but in a way that was more a polite watching than the noting she was doing. “I recently just came back from overseas---a peace mission in Iraq. While there, I was in a manager position, in charge of assigning duties and tasks to other volunteers, as well as filing reports and keeping records of supplies.” The woman answered. She had Nadia and Sergei to thank for that cover story. Apparently it was what they had told their mother to cover Olga’s disappearance and it was really as good as story as any.

“On top of that, I’m finishing a degree in writing at the University---so I’m not stranger to detailed and thorough writing when needed, but short and concise as well.”

----------------------------------------------------

He made mental notes of everything she was saying, jotting down things in a manner that suggested he was very meticulous about it - or possibly a little desperate. Everything was noted in a surprisingly clean script:

peace mission
Record keeping
Filing A+++


The degree was helpful too, Steele leaning back in his chair, regarding Solas with muted expression, trying to figure out if this was some sort of trick that Rob was pulling, because there was no way that there was someone this good asking to work for Steele, of all people.

“That all sounds great,” he said, hedging a bit, and then leaned forward, fingers interlaced on the desk in front of him. He gave Solas a very serious look.

“Okay. The real question is: how do you feel about glitter pens?”


--------------------------------------------------------------

The shift in posture was noted, as was the serious look. Solas’ face was carefully composed, especially once the question was asked. It wasn’t quite what she had been expecting, but in light of the explosion of various colors of glitter pens she had seen on, what she assumed, was the other secretary's desk, she understood.

She answered him with the utmost seriousness, because securing this position hinged on answering this question correctly. This she understood.

“Only suitable for use by pre-teens, middle aged women who scrapbook, and if by me, only on my own personal time at my home. Not in this office. Period.” She gave an assuring nod. “I will only write in flat black ink, sir.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

”You’re hired,” Steele said immediately.

He leaned back in his chair and stretched out a hand to pull a thick manilla file out from one of the top shelves of his desk. Putting it between them, he flipped it open and began passing papers towards Solas.

“Basic information, contact information, insurance, and a nondisclosure for any clientele,” Steele rattled off. “You can pick either 7-3, 8-4, or 9-5 for your hours, Rob and I go back and forth with what we prefer, but there’s generally one of us in the office at some point. We do also work outside in the field, so expect there to be some days where we’re not actually in the office, but you’ll still have to be here to answer phone calls and process paperwork and file and everything.”

He held out a pen. “Does that sound good to you?”


-------------------------------------------------------------------

Solas couldn’t help but blink once, purely out of surprise. Just like that, huh? She was reading that most interviews often had multiple parts. Days, if not some weeks could pass between the next stage. But no. Same day, hired. This man must have been desperate...and if she had dealt with him as Stillwaterite, what did they say about her?

Well.

Time would tell.

She took the papers as they were offered, nodding her head as he explained what each one was for. “7-3 would be great.” She replied immediately. “And understood.” She took the offered pen, looking the man in the eyes, and wondered once more exactly how he was doing since she had run into him as Still. Hopefully she’d find out.

“It sounds perfect. Thank you, sir.”