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“Don’t tell Al that. Got everything you need?”
“I think so. Do you mind if we stop by a drive-through for coffee, or do you have a machine?”
“Got one at the shop.”
I sigh in relief and follow him out to the small front porch. A pair of rustic rocking chairs are stationed in the corner. I’ve never thought about sitting out here and relaxing, but I wonder if Matt would like it. I should invite him over for dinner once I get my car back. You know, as a way to say thank you. Plus, I get the feeling he doesn’t take much time for himself. Maybe a relaxing dinner and night on the porch would help him.
Matt steps outside, and I lock the front door before climbing into his truck again. He waits for me to buckle my seat before closing the door and getting in.
I pull out my charging cable and pop it into the port so my phone can start reviving itself while we drive. Usually, it charges quickly, so the half-hour it will take to get back to the garage should get it into better shape.
“I hope I didn’t make you late for anything this morning.”
“I don't have anything scheduled until closer to noon. I usually try to take the first hour of the day to do office work and pick away at some of my long-term projects.”
I nod, and we lapse into a companionable silence. My brain still isn’t awake enough for coherent conversation, so I spend the rest of the drive replying to emails. One is from the closest friend I’d made in the accounting office, Sarah, and we arrange for her to drop off my stuff at the garage tomorrow after she gets done with work. I would prefer to avoid making an appearance in Taub’s office again, and she grabbed it yesterday when I couldn’t make it back down.
Matt doesn’t seem to mind my preoccupation and hums along to the songs on the radio. The sonorous depth of his voice doesn’t do much to help me wake up. Instead, my brain starts to relax back into a mellow goo.
Before I know it, we’re pulling up to the garage. There aren’t very many parking stalls, so Matt circles the truck around to the rear of the building next to a door marked ‘Employees Only.’
Before I can unbuckle and grab my stuff, Matt’s already jumped out and around to my door. We go inside, and he shows me the small back room where a coffee maker and coffee pods are tucked into a corner. It looks like part office, part break room, so I assume this is where most of the work gets done.
There’s an older couch against one wall and a mid-size desk that’s currently supporting too much paperwork opposite it. Kitty-corner to the desk, a small table and two chairs are pushed against the wall.
“I refuse to keep a vending machine, so I had to concede a coffee maker to my last office manager.”
“Why don't you want a vending machine?” I can’t help my curiosity.
Matt’s face turns a bright red. “Too much temptation.”
I’m thrown off for a beat before I grin. “Matty, do you have a sweet tooth?” I tease.
He points to a narrow stack of square lockers in the corner. “We usually don’t have too much of a problem, but if you want to lock up your purse while you’re here, feel free to use any of those. If there’s something in it, just move it to another. Everything should fit.”
I give him a look so he knows I know he’s avoiding my question.
“Thanks.” I set my things on the table for now.
“There’re some coffee mugs in one of the cabinets, and you can use the sink in the bathroom for water.”
I gesture toward the coffee. “You want any?”
“Naw, I already had two cups this morning.”
“Okay. Anything you need me to do right away?”
“No, I got caught up on a lot last weekend. If you want to take a look at things, feel free. The passcode for the computer is taped underneath the keyboard. Maybe see if there’s anything you don’t recognize and make a list?”
“Alright, but be prepared for it to be pretty long.” His easy-going nature makes me jittery. I’m used to training protocols, rules, and regulations. Without the structure of expectations, I feel like I might just shake apart.
“We can do a crash course later.”
Matt heads to the garage, and I feel like a kite without its string. I step onto the sales floor, notice the door still has the sign flipped over to the closed side, and move to fix it. Then, at a loss, I go back into the office.
Needing something to do, I start the coffee machine. It’s one of the single-serve kinds, but I don’t think it’s been cleaned since the last manager left. I take the water well out and give it a good scrubbing. I’ll run some vinegar through it later, after I get a cup or two in my belly, but for now, I’m not going to be too picky. I pick a pod out of the pile in the basket and wait for it to finish brewing.
The paper piles on the desk are nagging me to organize them. I lift one and shuffle through the pages. They seem to be past receipts. Those I’m familiar with. Those I know how to handle.
