The Grams

“What word comes to mind when you think of her?” she asked tiring.

“Efficient.” Grams said adjusting her pale green dress suit regarding the child across from her with haunting superiority.

She shifted looking back at her list of questions.

“Why did you choose to work with her on the Council?” she asked forcing herself to look back up into her stony eyes, trying not to feel inferior.

“She needed someone who had an excellent business understanding.” She shrugged as though it was a common skill everyone should be comfortable with.

The interviewer nodded. “How do you enjoy supervising Kitten?”

“I don’t.” she said “That is Olivia’s baby, the entertainment hub of St. Anne.”

Fiddling with her pen the interview took a deep breathing before asking, “What did you do before working on the Council?”

“I dabbled.” She responded her shoulders growing tense.

“In what?” she asked forgetting the list of questions she had.

“I don’t believe that question is in your list.” Grams said softly watching her knowingly.

Looking down  at the list and then back to the older, yet regal woman in front of her she moved her mouth to ask how she knew that, Grams phone went off.

“Well that was fun.” Grams said picking it up, leaving the room answering it.

The interviewer sat back, mouth still opened looking from her list, to the woman. What the hell?

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