Page 89 of Hot Shot

“Justin was having fun with them too.”

“Yeah.” Aaron’s gaze drifts to his younger daughter holding the baby. “Carrie’s good for them that way. She loosens us all up.”

I can definitely see that. It’s nice that her dad sees it, too.

Soon we’re all seated around the long table, Savannah in a highchair her dad brings out, the kids excitedly adding ketchup and mustard to their hamburgers and reaching across everyone, their parents admonishing them to use their manners, everyone talking over each other.

Dinner conversation turns to business, Justin, James, Lauren, and Aaron arguing about the looming employment crisis, with an aging workforce and Millennials who have different expectations from their employers. “Low- and middle-income workers’ perception of unfairness is going to cause a crisis of worker availability and competitiveness for U.S. companies,” Justin says.

“True,” Lauren says. “Employers are going to have to find balance between profitability and compensation to motivate workers. Especially fast food and retail, where wage levels are typically low.”

I nod, thinking about Conquistadors and our never-ending staff turnover and the things we need to do to be an attractive employer.

“The friction between companies and their employees is going to grow,” Aaron agrees. “The government needs to do something.”

“I think it’s a mistake to look to the government,” I offer. “They’re never going to agree on an issue like wages.”

“We have to change the tax system,” Emily says.

“I disagree,” James replies. “Taxing our way to economic equality is unrealistic.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to bridge the gap,” I say. “Companies need to understand what their workers really need.”

Beside me, Carrie nods thoughtfully and opens her mouth as if to comment.

“Hey,” James says, also looking at Carrie. “What’s five hundred feet long and has an IQ of forty?”

I feel Carrie stiffen. I glance around the table as a few others ask, “What?”

“The final walk-through of a fashion show.” James flashes a teasing smile at his sister.

Carrie joins in the laughter, but I sense her hurt. I get that James thought he was trying to include Carrie in the conversation, but in a misguided way. This seems to be typical, though.

“Well, unless it was Carrie in the walk-through,” I say with a grin. “Then it would be ahundredand forty. Probably more.”

A dozen pairs of eyes land their gazes on me in surprise, most of all Carrie’s. A smile trembles on her lips as she stares at me.

“You obviously know our girl well,” Grandma Garner says, looking pleased.

I shrug. “Getting to more and more.”

And it’s true. Seeing her with her family just emphasizes how different she is from most of them, which I already knew from Carrie. Justin is awkward and nerdy, obviously super smart, focused on running his tech company. Carrie’s other brother, James, is stuffy and serious, an attorney at a prominent law firm. Lauren, too, is a serious businesswoman, participating in the conversation with terse responses. My impression is that, while they’re all clearly intelligent, they want everyone to know that, and there’s also a lot of talk about money. Money is great, but not super interesting to me. All this drives home how genuine Carrie is. I know she doesn’t care much about money either. She never tries to show off or pretend to be something she isn’t. She’s warm and caring and buoyant. And she’s smart—just as smart as the rest of them, even if she’s not an expert in business.

I can tell her family dismisses her accomplishments. I also see how that stings her.

I reach for her hand under the table and squeeze it, and the smile she sends me makes my heart swell.

When we finish eating, Carrie’s dad opens his gifts. His sons give him expensive tech toys and Lauren gives him a new golf club, at which Carrie’s mom rolls her eyes. Aaron appreciates my bottle of tequila. When he opens Carrie’s present, he pauses, studying it thoughtfully before saying, “Beautiful, honey,” and nodding his head.

I watch Carrie bite her lip, clearly anxious.

“Where is this?” Aaron asks Carrie.

“Torrey Pines Reserve.”

I stand to peer at the gift. It’s a framed photograph, a scenic image of cliffs, rocks, and ocean obviously done near sunset, the colors of the cliffs rich shades of gold and spice against pure blue sky and ocean. “Wow. That’s gorgeous, Carrie.”

“Thank you.”

---