Page 15 of Business or Pleasure

“Really?” I sat down in the chair across from him.

“Wells filled me in on what happened yesterday with Lester. While I’m sorry for the stuff he said to you, I’m glad to have a reason to fire him finally. He always walked just right up to the line but never quite crossed over it until now. I just got off the phone with him, telling him that he’s been terminated. He won’t even be coming in to pick up his check. I’ll mail it.”

Shit. Now I was feeling horrible about quitting my job.

“All right, that’s not a happy face. I would’ve thought you’d want Lester out of here.” Bert leaned forward, his expression softening. “Something wrong?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. No, I’m glad he’s gone.”

“But?”

I sighed. “But I came in to give my two week’s notice.”

“Because of Lester?”

“Because I don’t do long-term very well.” I decided to give him most of the truth. “And I got another job offer.”

"I guess I always knew this would happen." Bert leaned back in his chair. "You're far too smart to be stuck here. Wells is getting trained to take over when I retire. I don’t have a job like that to offer you. If you have a chance to find something good, a chance to realize the potential I see in you, take it.”

I got a lump in my throat. Bert and I weren’t close, but his genuine tone told me he meant everything he said. In contrast, my father didn't care if I wasted my potential. The only potential he saw was how it could benefit him.

"If two weeks isn't enough time, I'll see what I can do..."

“Not at all.” Bert waved off my offer. “I was going to suggest that you take the next week or two off.”

“What, huh? I don't get it?”

“It’s a little embarrassing.” Bert’s cheeks turned pink. "I'm dating this woman, and her son came to visit, and the only thing he talked about was comics. But I couldn’t just tell him to hang out at the store, so I offered him a summer job. I just need to make it sound like he's doing me a favor."

“And if you’re short-staffed, that gives you the perfect opening.” I chuckled. “That’s a good plan.”

“Thanks.” He beamed, and then his smile fell. “You understand I’m not trying to get rid of you, right?”

I laughed again. “I do. And thank you.”

Let's hope my interview on Friday goes as well.

* * *

It was a crazy idea.

That's all I've been telling myself since Miss Boswell left the store earlier this week. I said it out loud more than once this morning when I’d dressed for my interview.

I never considered myself working in an office. Hell, that's why I never got a degree. To be honest, those types of jobs weren't my cup of tea. It wasn't that I was lazy. It was more that I lacked ambition. Minimum wage jobs suited me fine, especially ones where I could be myself and forget my past.

So why was I standing in the guest parking lot, staring up at the MIRI building, working up the courage to go inside?

Maybe a part of me thought this was the sort of job that would’ve made my mom proud. She would’ve been proud of me no matter where I worked. She never cared about diplomas or making a lot of money. Mom only wanted me to be happy.

I cleared my throat and pushed back the memories—no need to get my hopes up or count on anything. I’d do the interview, see where things went. If I didn’t get the job, maybe I’d look into moving. Seattle was starting to bore me a little.

The dark blue streaks in my hair were showing, but otherwise, I had dressed conservatively. A business dress code wasn't a problem for me at work, but I wouldn't give myself away completely. That hair was me right now.

“I have an appointment,” I said to the man behind the lobby desk.

“With whom?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I replied with an embarrassed laugh. “Tuesday Boswell told me to come for an interview at ten.”

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