"Th-thank you," Karen murmured. "Please take it as a compliment."

"I do."

"A very pretty girl."

The man's name was Max Wallace. He was about thirty-five, Karen supposed, short and sturdily built, with a knowing smile and thinning black hair. He didn't look like a big businessman, but Karen supposed that he was.

Executive Dental, which Max Wallace owned, took up half of one city block. She was here in his private office for a job interview, her first job interview ever as a dental assistant. Karen faced Mr. Wallace in her best pleated skirt and a formal, frilly white blouse. Her newly issued diploma was folded safely in her purse, which she held in her lap.

Karen felt very nervous, and the impressiveness of Executive Dental had done nothing to put her at ease. As Mr. Wallace had smugly volunteered, his business was the largest of its kind in the state. It was, he freely admitted, a high-volume, turnstile type of operation, that made its profits by offering low prices to as many customers as possible.

On her way in, walking to the stairs, Karen had counted at least a dozen dental booths on the first floor alone, with young dentists and white uniformed dental assistants scurrying busily about left and right. The second floor, where Mr. Wallace had his office and where she was sitting now, seemed to be a bit different. The dental booths weren't really booths; they were separate, private offices. Max Wallace had already explained that the clients serviced on the second floor were more select, as he put it. They were also charged more money.

This didn't explain why the two dental assistants she'd seen on the second floor were so conspicuously younger and prettier than the one's she'd seen downstairs.

"What are your salary requirements?" Mr. Wallace asked.

"Well, I… I'm just starting out," Karen flushed. "I mean, whatever… well, whatever your starting salary is here, I'm sure it would be fine…"