You don’t expect Scarlett Johansson to be in the lobby when you walk into The Outset headquarters.

Interviews usually involve a hiring manager in a glass-walled room, a stack of paperwork, and a smile that’s professional but distant. You’ve prepared yourself for all that — your resume tucked neatly in a folder, your nerves arranged behind a mask of calm.

What you haven’t prepared for is the founder herself, leaning against the reception desk with a cup of tea, listening intently to something the receptionist is saying.

The space is bright and minimal, all clean lines and soft light, with shelves displaying The Outset’s product line like art pieces. The air smells faintly of something botanical — refreshing, almost like stepping into a greenhouse after rain.

Scarlett glances up as the glass doors hiss shut behind you. Her eyes land on you immediately, scanning with a quick, precise sweep that makes you feel both seen and evaluated in under a second.

“You here for an interview?” she asks, voice low but carrying.

You nod. “For the product development assistant position.”

Her mouth curves just slightly, like she’s amused by something. “You’re early.”

“Better than being late,” you say, and instantly wonder if you sounded smug.

If she notices, she doesn’t show it. “True.”

She takes a sip of tea, still looking at you — not in the distracted way people in positions of power often do, but like she’s trying to work something out. Finally, she tilts her head toward the hallway.

“Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

You hesitate. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” she interrupts, already heading down the hall. “I want to.”

You follow, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished concrete floor. The walls are lined with mood boards, early packaging prototypes, and candid photos of the team at work. She gestures toward one as you pass — a snapshot of three women laughing over a table covered in swatches and sample jars.

“That’s from the early days,” she says. “When it was just us and about four gallons of coffee.”

There’s no grand speech about her vision, no dramatic founder’s monologue. She’s casual, almost offhand, but you can tell by the way she glances at the photo — quick, private — that it means more to her than she says.

When you reach the small meeting room where your interview’s supposed to happen, she holds the door open for you.

“You’ll be talking to Claire,” she says. “She runs the department. She’s great. Don’t let her scare you — she’s just allergic to small talk.”

You smile faintly. “What about you?”

She raises a brow. “Me?”

“You’re not allergic to small talk?”

“I’m selective,” she says with a ghost of a grin. “And I’m not part of your interview.”

You sit down, adjusting the folder in your lap. She doesn’t leave right away. Instead, she lingers in the doorway for a moment, watching you like she’s taking one last mental snapshot.

“Good luck,” she says finally, and there’s something in her tone — not quite casual, not quite invested — that lingers after she’s gone.

By the time Claire walks in, you’re not thinking about your resume bullet points anymore. You’re thinking about how Scarlett Johansson decided to walk you to your interview personally, and how that probably means nothing.

Probably.