She looked at him like he might be trying to sell her something. Then she saw his own portfolio, his own ironed shirt, his own barely-hidden nerves. Her expression softened.
At 8:52, the woman got off at 31st. “Good luck,” she said. Hottie Get In The Bus For Job Interview
“You too,” Jay said. And he meant it. He arrived at 8:58. No heated seat. No tinted windows. No Marcus to talk him up in the parking lot. Just Jay, a slightly wrinkled shirt sleeve, and the faint smell of bus exhaust clinging to his portfolio. She looked at him like he might be