“Hi, Beau. Sorry to bug you on the weekend,” Mr. Gardner says as if he really is apologetic about interrupting my weekend.
Hopefully this call doesn’t take long. I’m supposed to head up to the winery soon.
“It’s okay. Is everything okay? Is there an issue with one of my clients?”
“Oh no, nothing as serious as that.” I can picture him waving my concern away with his hands. If his hands aren’t crossed in front of him, or shoved into his pockets, he’s very much a hand talker.
“What can I help you with?”
“It’s more like how I can help you.” He pauses for a moment to see if I’m going to take the bait. I’m not. “I’ve been looking over the numbers you’ve sent me on this passion project, and I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, sir.” I’m not sure what else he wants me to say.
“You’re welcome. I want to offer you a promotion.”
“That’s incredible.”
“I know you mentioned wanting to work exclusively with small businesses, but we don’t have a ton of those coming through the firm. The few we do have, you’re already working with. You would lead up the team on mid-size businesses. They have more money to play with so you could scale up what you’ve already been doing. You’d have your own office and of course a raise. What do you say?”
This really could have waited until Monday, but I can’t tell him that. “That’s a great offer. Can I think about it over the weekend?”
“Sure, sure.” I just know he’s leaning back in his chair, hands steepled over his stomach. “But don’t wait too long.”
“I won’t. Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Gardner.”
“Have a great rest of the weekend.”
Talk about a call I wasn’t expecting. It’s a great offer, but I wouldn’t be working with the businesses I want. And, even though he didn’t say it, I know I’ll be working longer hours.The guys who work with those, and bigger, companies are workaholics with no life.
Evenings and weekends are something I treasure, especially with Piper. Before I make any decisions, I want to get her perspective. Her opinion is the only thing that matters to me.
With my phone still in hand, I call her.
“Hey.” She answers on the first ring, and I can hear some kind of noise in the background. It sounds like she’s outside. Maybe she’s watering her flower garden. She’s turned into quite the green thumb over the past couple of years.
“Hi. Do I need to scoop you up on my way to the winery?” By being her ride, I’ve always been her excuse to leave family functions when her brothers get to be too much.
“I wish,” she sighs. “Peter pulled up to my house about thirty minutes ago in a golf cart. Apparently, my help is needed with setting up tables.”
“That sounds fun,” I laugh.
“I honestly don’t see why I need to help. There are six of us. Surely, the rest of them are more than capable of doing it without bothering me.”
“You are a Summers, you have to help. Mom’s rule,” Peter says loud enough I can hear him.
“We literally only need three tables put up. It takes less than two minutes.”
“Argue with Mom, then. I’m only doing what I’m told.”
This is a common occurrence when I’m on the phone with Piper. Even when we were teenagers, there was always a chance she’d be having two conversations while on the phone with me.
“Because that’s all you know how to do,” she mumbles. It’s low enough only I hear it. If Peter heard it, he’d be throwing a tantrum.
“Should I head that way and save you? Sounds like your siblings are already picking on you.”
“Only if you want to.” She sighs and I can imagine her running her hand through her hair, doing everything she can to keep her cool and not cause any waves. “Just let me know when you get here and I’ll meet you up front.”
“Are we doing the cookout at the winery or your parents’ house?”
