For almost two weeks, I tempered my expectations. “It’s between you and one other candidate,” they’d said. “We’ll call next Wednesday at six o’clock with our decision,” they’d said. Most people would be thrilled with 50/50 odds, but as the scheduled time for this highly anticipated call came and went, I started bracing for disappointment.
Then finally at 6:37, my phone rang.
“Hi Dane, it’s Lance from Honor,” a man said. “I’m sure you know why I’m calling.”
Note to self, I thought: Watch their LinkedIn page for one of those ‘meet our new recruit’ posts so I can maybe figure out what the other candidate had that I didn’t.
“Well, I won’t draw this out any longer — after careful consideration, we’d like to offer you the role of Creative Director.”
Immediately, I was messaged by another member of Lance’s team who asked for my full name, mailing address, and phone number so she could generate my offer letter.
The request itself wasn’t suspicious to me at the time, mostly because a lot of that information had already been available on my LinkedIn profile, including my full résumé. But for whatever reason, I stopped to look her up on LinkedIn and was surprised to see her so openly “looking for work” seemingly without concern that Honor would see this and replace her before she found a position at another company.
Then I saw her most recent post.
That was when I realized that those five hours of interviews that had been drawn out over almost two weeks, and that had caused me so much anxiety and stress, had been nothing more than a scheme to steal my information.
And the scheme had almost worked on me.