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ELLIOT
“O
kay, yes. Advertise for that position.” I pace across the sunny patch on the carpet, talking to our HR manager in San Francisco on speakerphone. “We can gather applications and maybe go through them in the few days between the nonprofit launch and Owen’s wedding.”
Owen usually deals with all the West Coast office issues, but over the last eighteen months since he met Summer and reprioritized his life, more and more of the California problems have nudged their way onto my list.
Most of our two hundred-strong workforce is out there since space is marginally cheaper than in Manhattan. As well as developers and the creative team, that’s also where all the operations staff are—HR, finance, marketing, and most of the admin. What I have here in New York is a squad of geeks, two salespeople who are mainly out of the office gathering more East Coast clients, and Greta. I like having the minimalist end of things.
But it’s not that I mind taking on some of the West Coast work. I’m happy for Owen. He was totally burned out after the years of effort we put into getting the business going, and if he hadn’t taken a step or two back, I feared for his welfare.
The only problem is everything’s happening at once—a whole bunch of issues in San Francisco, the patch for Redberry Two here, the launch of the nonprofit, Greta’s accident, and Owen’s wedding. Right now it feels as if the weight of the whole company and the future of the nonprofit is on my shoulders, and that is a lot to bear. One of the great things about starting the business with Owen is we’ve shared everything—the highs, the lows, the obnoxious potential investors, everything. That’s been the joy, the pleasure, the fun of the whole thing. But right now, it feels like it’s spiraling out of my grasp and out of control.
“Will do,” says the HR manager. “Maybe once Owen and Summer are back from their honeymoon things will settle down a bit.”
“Hope so.” I rub the weak spot in my lower back that always tenses when I’m stressed. “I mean, they will. They definitely will.” My phone vibrates with another call. “That’s Owen now. I’ll let him know. Thanks. Bye.”
I tap to accept the call. “Hey, I was just talking to your office about posting for the empty business development manager job.”
“Oh shit, yeah. I’d completely forgotten about it.” Owen sounds as hassled as I feel. “Man, sorry about that. I’ve never been this distracted in my life. But spending so much time up in New Hampshire getting everything set up at your parents’ place for the wedding is tearing me in half.”
Owen proposed to Summer at the house my two brothers, two other cousins who were raised with us, and I bought for my parents. It’s a beautiful old stone place on the outskirts of a cute village. The huge garden and pond will be the perfect spot for their wedding. Particularly as Summer lives not far from there.
“I get it. It’s fine.” I push my fingers into the rubber plant’s soil. So dry it’s almost powdery. If plant care has fallen off my radar, there’s no hope for me. “You know I’m more than happy to pick up the slack.” I fetch the water bottle from my desk and drain it into the plant pot. “It’s just short-term. Once you and Summer are moved into the new house in San Francisco, things will get back to normal.”
“You know I appreciate it, right?”
“Of course. And I know you’d do the same for me if things were reversed.”
Though the chances of me getting married any time this century are pretty slim. The only way anyone seems to meet someone these days is either by hanging out in bars and clubs or via an app. Both those options fill me with horror. It would be like reverting to my college dating ways.
But, I guess Owen did meet Summer by getting lost outside her cabin in a snowstorm. Maybe I could try driving around remote areas till the weather turns hideously bad and hope for the best.
“I do have a favor to ask though.” There’s a hint of hesitation in Owen’s voice. “If you don’t mind.”
What difference is one more item on the list going to make? “Sure. Of course. What do you need? An audio system for the party? A smart lighting set-up? To tell my Mom to stop giving her opinion on the flower choices?”
“Ha. Not that I doubt your technical abilities, but, no. And Summer says your mom’s been incredibly helpful with the flowers. Which is really nice since she doesn’t have her own mom or grandma to help out. No, it’s actually not wedding related at all.”
“Oh, okay. I think all the work stuff is pretty much under control.” I cast my gaze over the piles of files everywhere and ignore the continuous beeping from my computer that indicates a steady stream of incoming messages.
“It has to do with the First Byte launch,” Owen says.
“Oh, that’s no problem. Greta had the big picture view of that. I just need to look through her files and catch myself up. Also, Max said he might have someone who can help us out.”
“Whoever he’s going to lend you won’t be able to help with the favor I need.” He pauses. “No one can but you.”
The sun disappears behind a cloud, and the bright patch on the carpet fades along with the warmth on my legs. “That sounds serious.”
“You’re going to hate me.” I can almost hear him scrunching his eyes shut and rubbing his forehead.
Whatever it is can’t be that bad. “Go on,” I tell him, strolling toward the window.
“It’s the presentation.”
I stop dead in my tracks. “The presentation?” My guts turn in on themselves, and all the blood rushes away from my fingers, leaving them freezing cold. “You mean the launch speech? In front of the media, the industry press, the Netto executives, the staff and volunteers, the kids, and their parents?”
“I do.”
