“This is a temporary personal assistant position,” Valetta started off her speech. “Above all, my client’s privacy is the most important thing. Many of the position's responsibilities are designed to protect his identity and ensure that his whereabouts are not discovered. This means that you will be the face of almost all procedural requirements. Hotel, restaurant, and all other reservations will be made in your name. If room service is desired, you will order it, receive it, and do all the talking to staff members. You will also clean the room yourself so that no member of the house keeping staff enters my client's quarters. Just to be clear, this isn’t a ‘bodyguard’ position. However, if a difficult situation should arise, you will be entrusted with prioritizing the security of my client’s identity in every decision you make. Think of the job as something between a maid and personal assistant. Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely,” Sabrina said with a nod. She'd never heard of a job like this, but she was ready to work.
“While all of this precaution may seem excessive, I promise you that it is not. People of all sorts, paparazzi especially, have been known to stalk and harass my client,” Valetta said. “I don't want to turn his trip into a covert operation, but to simply to ensure that it can be enjoyed with the smallest number of incidents possible.”
“Of course,” Sabrina said, attempting to demonstrate that she was following more than she really was. The secrecy, the significance, the all-around mystery; it was all a little strange, she thought. Strange and intense. But the pay was equally as intense, and that’s what mattered.
“Good. Then I want to confirm that you're willing to do everything I just mentioned,” Valetta said, her expression stalling as she looked directly at Sabrina.
“I am,” Sabrina assured her.
“Excellent,” Valetta replied with a smile. “Then, the next thing I would like you to do is try to identify some photos.”
“Okay,” Sabrina replied, hoping her smile didn't show her nervousness. She had no idea that she was going to have to identify photos for a job. Her brain immediately went a million miles a minute, trying to recall every photo she'd ever seen and how it could relate to the job of a personal assistant.
Valetta opened the manila folder in front of her and removed nearly a dozen glossy photos. “I’m going to show you pictures of several different people and I’d like you to tell me whether or not you recognize them.”
“I'll do my best,” Sabrina said, overwhelmed with curiosity. She'd never had to do anything like this before on a job interview.
“I’d like to move through them fairly quickly,” Valetta said. “So if you’re able to identify the subject, say their name. If not, a simple ‘no’ will be just fine.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Valetta slid the first photo across the desk so that it was facing Sabrina. It was a picture of a blonde man with a thick beard. He was wearing a grey suit with a black undershirt. He was handsome, and Sabrina could have pictured him as a model for something, but he definitely didn't look familiar.
“No,” Sabrina said. “I'm afraid not.”
Valetta pulled the photo back and immediately turned over a different one. This picture was of a different man. He had wavy black hair that fell to his chin and was wearing a white button dress shirt tucked into grey slacks. His features were striking, with dark almond-shaped eyes and Cupid's bow lips. Gorgeous, no doubt. But still, not familiar.
“No,” Sabrina said again.
Valetta made no expression as she exchanged the photos again. This one was of an older man with a grey beard. He was wearing a fuzzy black robe, which could hardly contain his large gut. He was looking toward the sun and squinting. He appeared confident and proud, but there wasn't a single thing about him that seemed familiar, other than she could easily imagine him living at her family's trailer park.
This has got to be the strangest interview process I've ever been a part of, she thought. And I must be failing miserably. I don't know a single one of these.
“Nope,” Sabrina said, her forehead hot and growing warmer. The cold air was harsh against her clammy skin and for the first time she noticed her back soaked in sweat. She wanted this job so badly that these photos were becoming frustrating.
Valetta retrieved another picture from her folder and instantly Sabrina’s chest inflated. She knew this one, or at least she thought she did.
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “That’s, um, that’s…” Her head fell into her palms as she racked her brain. “That’s that actor.. he's Irish...” When Sabrina looked up again she was glad to see Valetta smiling, as if she was amused by the struggle for her to place the actor. “That’s the guy whose daughter is always getting kidnapped in every movie.”
Valetta laughed. “Liam Neeson?” she suggested.
“Yes,” Sabrina said, allowing herself to join Valetta’s laughing. “It was on the tip of my tongue.”
“That’s okay, you passed,” Valetta said, and Sabrina wondered if that meant that she hadn’t passed with the other pictures. She slid another picture so that it was facing Sabrina.
It was a picture of a young blonde woman wearing a red dress. She appeared to be dancing in a rainstorm in the middle of some city, with taxi cabs parked behind her.
“No, I'm afraid not.” Sabrina’s throat tightened and again she felt the presence of sweat on her hands. She had no idea if it was good or bad that she didn't recognize any of these people. She had to assume not.
Valetta retrieved another photo, this one Sabrina recognized instantly.
“Oh, that’s the Queen of England,” Sabrina said, proudly. More than the queen herself, though, Sabrina had recognized the dogs she was posed with.
At least I got that one, she thought.
Valetta continued with several more photographs. Several were of famous actors and celebrities, but many more seemed to be of ordinary people. Some faces were even repeated, but in different poses. Sabrina hoped that the fact that she had no idea who ninety percent of the photos were wasn't going to cost her this job.