“Thank you, August. We’ll talk to you soon.”
August told himself that had to have been a good sign. He hadn’t been totally dismissed, he’d been the first one called in, and nobody from security had shown up to make him hand over the magazine in a shameful display in front of everybody else. Of course, he also hadn’t had the balls to slide it out of his pocket and put it back either. So he was, at the end of the day, still a thief. A petty one, even.
He took the stairs to his apartment two at a time, stuck between hoping he’d get the job and wishing he’d never applied for it. Those guys all had to talk between one another. What if word got out that he’d made such a stupid mistake over something so insignificant?