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“I’m sorry, Paolo. I’m honored you think of me this way, and yes, this is exactly what I have been working towards all this time, but I can’t accept it.”
His smile disappeared, confusion contorting his features. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not well,” I confessed, standing before him. “The rare disease I’ve had since I was a child has changed, transformed into something else. And with me no longer able to get my treatment like I used to, it’s begun attacking my body.”
Slipping the name tag into the envelope, I offered it back to him. His gaze fell to the envelope, but he didn’t take it. “How bad is it?”
“Worse than I thought it would be,” I admitted, lifting my sleeve to show him one of the bruises that sat on my shoulder. “I have a very rare blood type and only my father’s blood worked. The transfusions are over now, so I’m getting worse.”
“And your mother’s blood can’t help?”
I shook my head. “Dad tried it when I was a child, but only his seemed to keep the illness at bay. The only reason I’m still standing here, is because Josh has been helping me with my load, so I won’t overextend myself, and no one else has noticed. I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to deceive you; I was just hoping it wouldn’t get this bad.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, he regarded me for a few moments, and pushed the envelope back to me.
“The manager position is more executive than anything else. Your main concern is to make sure your employees have everything they need to work. Inventories, ordering, paying bills, making sure the place is in tip top shape,” Mr. Di Rossi explained. “Yes, customer satisfaction is part of your duties, but you would only need to be on the front a few times a day to make sure everything is running smoothly, and you’d have a better work schedule. It would not put the same strain on you that you have endured so far. It’s mainly a desk job. Do you think you could do that?”
Looking into his eyes, I began to nod. “I think I could, but right now my symptoms are unpredictable, and I don’t know how my body will—”
“Exactly. You don’t know how your body will react, so at least give it a try. You’ve come so far, Braxton, don’t let thisthingstand in your way.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Everyone out there is trained, and with you, they already run like the perfect ship. Also, with that raise, you can buy yourself a car.” He winked and I chuckled.
“Yes, I could.”
Smiling again, he reached inside the envelope and pinned the brand-new tag on my shirt—throwing the old one in the trash. Placing both hands on his hips, he nodded appreciatively. “Much better. Now, who is your junior manager?”
Blinking, I glanced towards the door. “Josh. He pretends he’s just here fulfilling a schedule, but he makes sure everything gets done, and always helps without anyone having to ask him. He’s already taken on a lot since I started feeling bad. He’ll be good at it.”
“Done. Now you can promote Nick to Barista and register back up, so he’ll work directly with Josh and hire someone else to replace him. We’ll let Josh get stuck with the training.”
We chuckled and Paolo motioned for us to sit down and finish eating.
“See? Being a manager is fun,” he joked, retaking his seat just as my phone rang.
Checking the screen, I glanced at him. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s from my mom’s assisted living community.”
“Of course, go ahead.”
“Hello, Grace?”
“Braxton? It’s Sarah Benson, the Community Director.”
“Oh. Hey, Sarah. How are you?” She hesitated for a moment, and dismay suddenly filtered through my body. “Is something wrong with my mom?”
Thunder exploded outside the window as her voice reached me, mixing with the storm that finally raged over San Francisco. Everything disappeared around me as her words tore through me. The floor itself seemed to tilt under my feet, and the phone fell from my hand, hitting the glass desk harshly along with the Dragon ring.
Lightning illuminated the building as it struck the city, the sound of the ear-splitting storm taking over my senses, as well as my strained breaths and the wild beating of my heart. A distant, high-pitched ringing suddenly captured my ears, and I tried to hold onto something, fingers trembling.
Hands reached for my arms the next moment, shaking me in an attempt to bring me back, but I couldn’t even feel the pain the gesture must have incited. When my gaze finally came across Mr. Di Rossi’s face, he was frantically calling my name.
“What happened?” His question somehow pierced through the nothingness threatening to drown me, but a frigid feeling coursed through my every cell, freezing my heart and leaving me numb.
“She’s dead,” I whispered.
