I’ll Take New York

‘Which are …?’

‘To progress my career in an interesting and challenging environment.’

Jake suppressed a sigh. ‘Listen, Madison, forget the accepted interview responses and just talk to me. I want to know about you as a person: what interests do you have? What beliefs do you live by? What makes Madison Montgomery who she is?’

Madison blinked. ‘Working here?’

Switching into analyst mode, Jake leaned towards her and softened his voice. ‘Apart from that. I’m curious as to why you applied for this position. What excites you about working in a psychiatry practice? Do you have an interest in the field? I notice in your résumé that you mention several philosophers as key influences on your life ’

Madison was having a hard time disguising the growing panic in her eyes. After a few excruciatingly long moments of silence, she sighed. ‘I just need a job, OK? I can organise an office and your diary. I can field calls, prioritise tasks and act as a point of first contact between you and your patients – sorry, clients. But beyond that, I don’t care whether you are a doctor of psychiatry or a CEO of a Dow Jones listed company.’

And there it is, Jake congratulated himself for seeing this coming the moment Madison entered the room. ‘Great. Thank you for your honesty. I’ll be in touch.’ He watched her leave the room without so much as a parting thank you and sank back into his brand new office chair. Maybe the recruiter he had chosen was wrong for the task. He knew there were bright, intelligent candidates in New York. So how come none of them wanted to work for him?

The list of names was nearing the halfway mark now. That was something. He checked his watch and stood, wandering over to the window overlooking Broadway where a flurry of yellow cabs was backed up in early afternoon traffic. The Lincoln Center was draped in huge banners advertising the New York Ballet’s upcoming season. A lone dancer appeared to be jumping across the grey concrete expanse of the building and the undulating ripples in the banner’s length gave the impression that she was flying. It was an intensely positive image that Jake instantly liked, as if the dancer represented the creative, driven spirit of the city thriving in its hard landscape. He smiled. There was a good reason he had chosen to return to New York. It would be tough, but he was tough. Growing up here had woven stubborn drive into his DNA and that counted for a lot. It would get him through his divorce; spur him on to find success in his new practice; and then, who knew?

Three hours later, any vestige of enthusiasm Jake had for appointing a new PA had evaporated like the steam rising from Broadway drains in the early evening air. Nothing – not even someone he could train to love the job. He’d had three offers of telephone numbers, a crash course in how not to write a résumé and several hours’ experience of identical stock answers, but nobody had even come close. In frustration he had dismissed the final eight candidates, who vacated the premises with little more than resigned disinterest. Were his standards too high? He half-wondered if the problems stemmed from a subconscious need to sabotage his new business before it had begun. Without a decent PA, how could he hope to offer the level of service his San Franciscan clients had enjoyed? Tired and irritated, he dismissed the thought. If he was going to end the day without his first employee it wasn’t for lack of trying.

This was getting him nowhere. He decided he would call it a day and go and find somewhere to eat, his empty stomach not helping his mood at all today. He screwed up the unsuccessful candidate list, tossed it in the wire waste paper basket and prepared to leave.

‘Am I late?’

Jake turned to see a smartly dressed black woman standing in the doorway. She made direct eye contact with him as she waited for his reply. That was a first today …

‘Uh – no … Please come in.’

‘The agency gave me the wrong address,’ she stated, offering her hand. ‘Desiree Jackson.’

‘I’m Jake Steinmann. Dr Jake Steinmann.’

‘Good to meet you. Finally. I swear the personnel agency is staffed by high school kids.’ She pulled a chair from the line that Jake had set around the wall of the reception area and settled opposite Jake, who sat quickly in the leather chair behind the desk. ‘I doubt very much you have my résumé, if their sense of direction indicates anything.’ She opened a leather document case and handed him a couple of neatly stapled pages. ‘Here.’

Jake accepted it, his mind whirring. She had taken a chair from the line. Without waiting to be asked to sit It was a small detail, but it showed initiative. And, having been denied anything to be impressed by all day, Jake was taken aback by this. He skimmed over the details on her résumé, but there was something about the confident woman’s attitude that made him like her immensely from the outset.

‘You’ll see from my employment history that I had a break of two years to raise my son,’ Desiree continued. ‘During that time I raised him alone, working nights preparing accounts and paperwork for friends. For the last year I have worked at a law firm on the Lower East Side.’

‘And your reason for leaving?’ Jake asked, trying to regain the initiative in this conversation.

Desiree nodded at her résumé. ‘It’s all there. They’re downsizing. Which, translated, means they’re letting me go.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Don’t be. I walked out and I won’t be looking back.’

I really like you, Jake thought, his spirits beginning to lift. ‘I see. What attracted you to this position?’ Please don’t say ‘because it’s a job’ …

‘The mind is fascinating. What makes people act the way they do; why they make the choices they make. I know a little about psychology. Mostly serial killers.’ She smiled when she saw Jake’s surprise. ‘I like real-life police cases. My kid thinks I’m crazy. But I want to know what turns a regular person into a killer.’

Jake coughed to disguise his laugh. ‘Well, I have to tell you we do very little work with psychopaths here. Most of my clients will be dealing with wrong attitudes and learned behaviours, perhaps stemming from trauma in early childhood. The FBI rarely asks for my assistance.’

Desiree shrugged. ‘It’s all from the same place, isn’t it? The mind.’

If you don’t want this job I will beg you to take it …

‘I guess it is. Did the agency brief you on the required duties of the job?’

‘They mentioned you were a young, single doctor,’ she answered, grinning at Jake’s groan. ‘Beyond that, I kinda figured out what you’d need.’

Jake could believe that. Desiree Jackson was a breath of fresh air, her chutzpah and no-nonsense attitude exactly what Jake was looking for. It was as if Pam had sent her especially for this new role and Jake would be crazy if he didn’t appoint her immediately.

‘Then I only have one more question: when can you start?’

Desiree smiled broadly. ‘Right now, if you want.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#ulink_0c178083-03e6-51dd-b92b-625d161bad59)

Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn (#ulink_0c178083-03e6-51dd-b92b-625d161bad59)

The day of Celia’s book launch arrived, sending Bea and Russ into a frenzy of activity. While Bea had laid much of the groundwork for the evening already, there was a list of things yet to be sorted that had grown rather than shrunk all week. Finally, with less than an hour until the event, Bea emerged from her makeshift dressing room in the bookstore office, smoothing down the skirt of her new aubergine velvet dress.

‘Will I do?’ she asked Russ.

Russ did a Muppet-style double take and dropped the pile of books he was carrying. ‘Wow.’

Suddenly self-conscious, Bea put her hand to her hair where a vintage slide was uncomfortably placed. ‘Stop it.’

Russ chuckled as he bent down to collect the books. ‘You look good. Stop worrying.’

‘I’m not worrying, I just wanted look the part.’

‘Well, you do.’

‘Are you getting changed?’

Russ looked down at his faded red and white striped T-shirt, skinny jeans and red Converse trainers. ‘I am changed.’

‘Russ!’ Frustration rising, Bea glared at him. ‘This is one of the most important events we’ve ever hosted. We need to make a good impression …’

Knowing argument was futile, Russ dropped the pile of books on the counter and headed towards the office. ‘OK, I get it! If you can’t handle my über-cool look, I’ll change it. But it’s your issue, remember, not mine.’

Bea ignored his parting shot and set about arranging Celia’s books on the table she had decorated for the book signing. She and Russ had been dancing on the edge of an argument all day, neither one finding the pressure particularly easy to handle. At times like these, they both knew it was best to discount anything the other said and certainly never take any of it to heart. From final exams at Columbia University to establishing Hudson River Books, this approach had paid dividends over the years. Today was no different, Bea reminded herself, tempted as she was to hit back at her best friend.