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“So, my acquaintance, the one I mentioned before, is coming into the city for a conference two weekends from now. He needs to first touch base with a few of the job fairs that are sponsored by local hotels. If you want, I can set up a meeting where we can all have dinner and discuss the options of you possibly scoring an internship. Maybe even bypass the list usually gathered at the fairs.”
“Yeah, of course, I would love that.”
“He’s pretty much a hard-ass when it comes to recommending people to the hiring crew. But I put in a good word for you.”
“Wow, you barely know me. I really appreciate you backing me.”
I can’t help but think about the reasons why Graham hates him so much. While Mark is a bit handsy and flirty, he has not shown me any indication that he is vindictive or malicious. He has gone out of his way to help me with my choice in careers and voluntarily offered his resources. Does Graham see him as a corporate threat? As far as I can tell, both men have different interest avenues. If they both just stick to their lanes, why would it ever be a problem? Graham is very established already. I just can’t put my finger on it. The rivalry. The hatred. The drama.
While I have been recording business conversations with Mark and his associates, I am coming up empty-handed.
“Well, I’m sure there will come a time when I need your help or a favor. If you send me your resume and transcripts of what you have done up to now, I can forward them to him so that he can peruse them ahead of time.”
“I can do that. Sure, no problem,” I eagerly agree.
“So, if you are free that Saturday, I can make a six o’clock appointment at Fortune.”
“The trendy restaurant at the Parkhouse Plaza?”
“Yes.” His smile is contagious.
My mind runs through my plans, quickly remembering that I have no dates or obligations due to Graham’s invasion over my free world. “Works for me.” I smile with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“No worries.”
“So, Angie, did you get the Graham situation figured out? You seemed pretty upset about it when I told you about your profile.”
Big understatement. I was and still am raging mad. The point is that Graham is out of line. And I am helping to blur all of the edges.
“I have an HR meeting tomorrow morning with the agency reps to discuss the issues.” I stress the word issues as being plural.
“If you want help to piss him off, I can assist. Show up at the meeting unannounced to put in my two cents”—his eyes gleam with mischief—“might do the trick.”
Oh, you are doing a great job getting Graham to blow a gasket already.No need to add fuel to the flame. Plus, if Graham finds out about this lunch, he will probably hit something—or someone. The man seriously needs to cool his jets. “I can handle him.” Who am I trying to convince?
Mark’s phone vibrates on the table and he flips it over to see the caller. “Sorry, I have to take this,” he apologizes to me before turning his attention to the person on the other end. He steps out of the booth and snarls, “I told you never to use this phone.”
I play with my straw wrapper and look as stupid as I can. It takes everything in me not to show emotion on my face. Who is he talking to? I hear Mark get off the call, only for another one to buzz in.
“Has terminal con la entrega?”
I hear the Spanish and quickly dig for my phone to start the recording but the words are coming so fast.
“Mover el producto para su prueba,” Mark demands, his tone stern. “No puedo chatear ahora debido a los oídos.”
There is a long pause, and I can tell Mark is anxious. His breathing picks up and his eyes refuse to make eye contact with me—which is unusual for him. Several phrases are spoken rapidly in a language other than Spanish. The words are slurred to the point that I cannot even commit any of them to memory, let alone find confidence that my cell picked them up.
“Paul esta en eso,” he responds, back in Spanish.
Paul. That name I know now.
I am able to catch the last couple phrases on my video but have no idea the quality of the recording. But one thing is clear. Smoothie Guy Paul is involved.
“Is everything okay? You seem stressed,” I ask as soon as Mark hangs up. I try my best at looking light and carefree, when in reality, I am about to shake right out of my skin.
“Trying to conquer the world is a challenging task,” he jokes.
It is fake. A diversion.
