Something about the huge perfume poster in the lobby sent shivers down Kira’s spine. It’s just an interview, she said to herself. If I get the job, I get it, if not, not. And they use rabbits to test this stuff, right? And Gordo’s pet name for her was little rabbit. What could be a better omen? But maybe this dress was too much. Or not enough. Maybe she should have worn underwear. Too late now. Barely more than an hour ago, Gordo smiled his approval. “You look so good,” he’d said. “I could eat you all up.” And then he’d lifted the dress off her for one more good luck fuck. “Little Rabbit, Little Rabbit, come, Little Rabbit,” and she came, and then he came, and then she came again, and there wasn’t time to shower, and now his sperms were cavorting in her cunt like sixth-grade boys at recess. Maybe she should have dosed herself with scent, but the stuff made her break out like too much chocolate, talk about omens.