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Why in the hell is Carter Lockwood calling me? He didn’t have the decency to show up at my mom’s service. To ask me how I’ve been since her death. Does he even visit my brother—his best friend—in prison? I’m going to ask next time Eric calls me for his daily ten-minute phone call.
“I’m good. Listen, I saw your résumé on Indeed. I’d like to talk to you about a job.”
I freeze, my hands completely unmoving as I set the plastic bin in the backseat of my car. “Excuse me?”
More silence.
“Hello?” I said, confused.
“You are aware I own one of the most successful IT companies in the Denver Metro, right?”
I roll my eyes, glad he can’t see it, but also disappointed he didn’t. “Okay...”
“Why, Taryn, if you needed a job, didn’t you come to me?”
Is this guy for real right now?
“I’m sorry, Carter, we haven’t seen or spoken to one another in years. I know about you and Lockwood Tech. I’m happy for your success, but why would I think you’d want to hire me? Honestly, your company’s online profile is kinda weak.”
Oh, my God, I did not just say that!
“Excuse me? We’re a very reputable app development company.”
“Is that what you do?” I continue, realizing I committed to this conversation and I’m going to finish it. “I couldn’t tell. Your social media and LinkedIn are kinda vague.”
Oh, my God! Who are you right now, Taryn?
Still, I wait in silence.
“Well, I haven’t had time to update that shit. Listen, I need an IT person, and my assistant found you on Indeed. Can you come in Monday for an interview? Or is my company not good enough?”
Seriously? Fucking dick. Okay. I can play this game.
I lift my chin, even though he can’t see. I slam the car door closed and go back into my mom’s house. “What are you offering? Salary-wise?”
Another pause.
“That’ll depend on your experience, love.”
Love, really?
A flashback hits me hard. When we were teens, he always called me that. He’d accompanied it with a British accent, but it was often. I found it endearing and always secretly liked it, but it was such a blast from the past. I resist smiling so he won’t hear it through my voice.
“Fine. What time on Monday?” I ask.
“Anytime you’re free. Seeing as you’re unemployed at the moment, I’m sure you could squeeze in an interview with us, right?”
Okay, that pisses me off. “Yeah, I’ll find time. Two o’clock work?”
“Yep. See you on Monday.” He ends the call.
Glad to see he hasn’t changed.
***
Ifidget nervouslywith my car keys as I ride the elevator up to the tenth floor of the Silver Holdings high-rise. The building is hands-down the nicest one I’ve ever been in and I can’t imagine coming to work every day here. It would be like a dream.
Sure, my job at Mills & Graves was in a nice area too, but it was just a small office. This building is so fancy it has marble floors, a chandelier, and a reception desk. The elevators are gold and it seem like a luxury hotel instead of an office building. I wonder who owns it and if they wipe their ass with Benjamins.
