Valkyrie pulled at the hem of her professional skirt and hated everything. It was cold in this building, and she wanted to wrap her arms around herself and complain. But, of course, she sat, legs crossed, and let herself be examined by Bernie.

Bernie was the general manager. Valkyrie had no idea what that meant. Was there a specific manager? For specific things? Was there Frankie, the vending machine manager? Tina, the copy-machine manager?

She just didn't know.

"So, Valerie…"

Valkyrie looked up, offered a half-hearted smile. Bernie, the general manager, didn't return it. Valkyrie wished she had gotten Frankie.

"Bernie," Valkyrie responded when he didn't offer up any more conversation.

Bernie placed her resumé on the table, slid it back and forth with his index finger. Valkyrie's smile became strained. Obviously she was supposed to say something, but she hadn't a clue what the hell he wanted.

"It's pretty chilly in here, isn't it?"

Bernie frowned. "Sorry?"

Wrong thing. "Well, I mean," Valkyrie pinched the fabric of her professional white blouse. "This is a really thin shirt."

"I'm not sure what this has to do with your resumé."

Valkyrie nodded. "Yeah."

Bernie waited another second. "You… You do realize this is an accounting firm, correct?"

Valkyrie nodded again. "I do."

Bernie looked pained. "Valerie, how much experiencing in accounting do you have?"

"A fair amount. I mean, I'm not your CFO, or anything, but I can juggle—" She fumbled, for just a moment. "—Juggle accounts decently."

Bernie steepled his fingers, took a deep breath. "You don't appear to have any schooling past secondary."

Valkyrie leaned forward, caught sight of her resumé. She stood. "Hold on, I just—I just really need to pee. Where's the bathroom?"

Bernie told her, and Valkyrie walked quickly out of the office. She wasn't used to high heels, and her foot wobbled and she fell into a man carrying a stack of papers. They nearly scattered out of his arms, but Valkyrie pressed them into his chest, and they regained balance.

"Sorry," she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

As soon as she in the bathroom, she locked the door and whipped out her phone.

"Any luck?"

"Skulduggery, what the fuck?!"

"Ah. I assume your credentials came into question—"

"What the hell!" Valkyrie covered her mouth with her hand, cast a quick glance at the door. "Seriously," she hissed, "why would you do this?"

There was static, like a hand covering the receiver, and Valkyrie gaped.

"Are you laughing right now?"

"No, I'm just…" He broke down into chuckles again.

"I hate you. I hate you so much."

"In my defense, you said to keep your resumé as close to fact as possible; you haven't had any schooling past secondary. And you probably don't know the first thing about accounting."

"I challenge that."

"What's the difference between crediting and debiting an account?"

Valkyrie bit her lip. Someone knocked against the bathroom door, and she heard confused mutters through the wood.

"By credit, do you mean like, the cards, or…?"

Skulduggery laughed, and Valkyrie hung up on him. She unlocked the door, shot an awkward smile at the few women gathered around, pushed by them. She adjusted her skirt, shoved her phone back into her bra as she entered Bernie's room. Office.

"Sorry." Valkyrie smoothed out her skirt. "So, I know that I might not be educated enough for this job, but do you think you can make an exception?" She smiled. "Please."

"I'm sorry, but—"

"No, you don't understand, it's my boyfriend."

Bernie raised an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend?"

Valkyrie nodded. "He's really stupid."

"I'm not sure what that has—"

"He's really, really stupid. He can't find a job. It's sad."

"I…" Bernie scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, what does this have to do with anything?"

Valkyrie leaned forward. "You don't understand how stupid he is."


Can you imagine how limited her job options would be in this economy?