Amanda flushed. Thank God. She’d sent her resume out to several local area businesses, but no one seemed to need a recently graduated anthropologist. This particular woman was the first person to be remotely interested. And it appeared she was more than interested.
Amanda was living in her sister’s apartment, and had been for four weeks. Living with Mary was perfectly fine, but she was more than ready to find a job, get her feet under her, and move out.
“I’m afraid I’m not certain what sort of position you need filled,” Amanda said. “The posting was rather vague.”
Lucy chuckled. “Yeah. I did that on purpose. I was afraid if I gave too many details, I wouldn’t get anyone to apply.”
“Oh.” Amanda’s eyes widened. What sort of job was this that no one wanted to do?
Lucy waved a hand through the air in dismissal. “No worries. It’s not a big deal. It’s a perception the locals would have, or former students.” She glanced down at Amanda’s resume. “You just moved here from Oklahoma, right?”
“Yes. I finished my degree at the end of the summer.”
“And you did several internships in the last few years, including research for the university you attended?”
“Yes.”
Lucy let go of the paper and leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk. “I just got notification that I’ll be receiving a government grant to explore an issue that’s concerning in this area of the state, specifically the effect of the unequal distribution of Caucasians and Native Americans in our local communities. After decades of separation and unrest, there has been little change.
“The city of Cambridge is over ninety-five percent Caucasian. The city of Sojourn to the south of here is on the reservation and nearly ninety-five percent Native American. That’s not unusual, but the inequity of the level of education received in the two towns is alarming.
“The high school dropout rate among students in Sojourn is significantly higher than their counterpart in Cambridge. And more alarming is the number of students who attend any sort of post-secondary education. This junior college is the only one in the area where students could continue their education as commuters, and I hate to say it, but less than five percent of our student body is Native.”
Amanda flinched. “That’s low.”
“Yes.” Lucy nodded. “My job is to fix that. And my grant is to hire someone to do the research and help bridge the gap between the communities. The goal is to eliminate some of the old mores so students starting at a young age don’t grow up with the current racial stereotypes that are keeping a sort of self-imposed segregation alive well past their secondary education and holding back Native American’s from attending college.”
“That sounds challenging.” And very interesting. She smiled at Lucy. “I’d be delighted to join your team.”
Lucy smiled. “Perfect. It’s going to take me a few more days to go through the formalities and get the grant in place. But I’ll be in touch at the first of next week.”
Amanda stood and held out her hand. “Thank you so much. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.”
As she left the office and shut the door behind her, she found someone else sitting in the waiting room. For a second she was surprised, thinking the young man was also there for an interview, but then she realized that wasn’t likely. He wasn’t dressed for an interview—unless jeans and a T-shirt could be considered proper interview attire—and his brow was furrowed. He followed Amanda across the room with his gaze. She swore she could still feel his eyes boring into her from behind as she stepped into the stairwell, and it gave her a chill.
She needed to get ahold of herself. Freaking out over some kid who was probably barely twenty in a waiting room was irrational.
»»•««
Two hours later, Amanda raced across the room and lunged over her bed to grab her ringing cell phone. She’d only been in Cambridge a month. She knew almost nobody and had given her number out to only a handful of people. “Hello?” she answered without bothering to look at the caller ID. She rolled onto her back and relaxed into the mattress.
“Amanda?”
“Yes.”
“This is Laurie Hamilton. I’m a friend of your sister, Mary.”
“Oh, right. She told me you might be calling. She said you needed a baby sitter.”
“Yeah. Sorry for the late notice. I’m kind of desperate. I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind for a Friday night, but are you free?”
Amanda chuckled. “I’m free for the next two hundred years it seems.”