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“It’ll add another twenty minutes and I already spend way too much time there.” Yes, this argument is sound.
“You can say no,” he offers, once again looking out the windshield.
“It’s not that I want to say no, it’s that I have to drive to my stupid job and sit at my stupid desk and answer to my stupid boss and I’d rather not add insult to injury by tacking on another twenty minutes.” Exasperated, and slightly winded from my mini rant, I take a breath.
“You could quit the job.”
“Ha! Sure. I’ll just quit and earn zero dollars. My landlady will love that idea.” I offer a sweet smile I hope is covering for my fraying nerves. I haven’t depended on anyone in years. The idea of leaning on Nate might strip me of my very identity.
Arguably, that went away with my name change. I was never this jumpy. I never knew my whole life was held together by a single thread. My father.
“You don’t like your job,” he points out. “Your boss is an asshole.”
He’s not wrong. I snort and tack on, “Creating spreadsheets and filing forms is as mind-numbing to me as a frontal lobotomy.”
“So find a new job. One that challenges you.”
The way he’s looking at me is making me nervous. He points to one of the Grand Marin buildings. “See that corner office with all the windows?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous.” The sidewalk is freshly poured and slim-trunked trees stand at even intervals at the corner. Overlooking the street is a second-floor office. Its interior is dimly lit, but I can make out the shape of tall plants by the window and a large desk.
“I had it furnished by a state-of-the-art designer today. It’s where my property manager will have his or her office when I hire one. I need someone smart, timely. Someone who won’t screw me over.”
“Walt is smart, but I’m not sure about the other two,” I reply with a laugh. My brother would be a terrible fit for that position.
“I’m not talking about Walt. I mean you. How would you like to run Grand Marin?”
“Run it?”
“In addition to being the contracted builder, my company also oversees the property management. It’s my ass if I don’t put a superstar in that office.”
“I don’t know anything about managing a property.”
“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs. As if it’s that easy.
I look up at the corner office and picture myself in there. In a smart, black suit and heels, chatting on the phone or flipping through reports. Popping down to the sidewalk to buy a foamy cappuccino and then sitting on a park bench in the common area to drink it.
It’s terrifying.
I was once in charge of a lot of employees. I had an entire department reporting to me. I instructed men like Nate on a biweekly basis, all of them earning more money than I was. I don’t know if I can trust myself in a high-powered position again, and that’s not the only argument for why it’s a bad idea.
“What if…something happens?” I ask instead of sharing my worries about bombing spectacularly in a managerial position.
“Something like what?”
Like we break up and hate each other. Or worse, we break up and tolerate each other. But that’s presumptuous, isn’t it? He asked me to stay with him for the week because he knows my brother and his girlfriend are annoying me. Maybe he was being nice. And maybe this job offer is a simple solution to his problem and mine.
A long-dormant part of my soul surges forward at the idea of once again rising to meet new goals. I miss the feeling of purpose I had when I worked for my father’s company. I thought I was fostering a great legacy. Little did I know.
I send another wary gaze to the Grand Marin office and bite my lip.
“Life is short, Viv. Don’t waste another minute doing something you don’t want to do.” He thumbs my chin, his eyes broadcasting sincerity. “Those drab walls and worn carpet don’t suit you, anyway. And I won’t micromanage you. You’d have full autonomy.”
No, I wouldn’t miss the drab walls, worn carpet, or Daniel. Amber’s nice, but we could have lunch together after I quit CRBI. I imagine telling Daniel I’ll no longer be his lackey, and my chest expands with the fullest breath I’ve taken all day.
