Page 76 of Someone Just Like You

Chapter Thirty-Five

Afew days later, while waiting for Michael to finish his call, my eyes skimmed the wall behind his desk. Behind him hung his diplomas from Tufts University, where he’d earned his bachelor’s degree, and Boston College, where he’d graduated law school. Also framed was the quote:Arguing with a lawyer is like wrestling a pig in mud. Sooner or later, you realize that they like it. If you asked me, Michael wished he was still a practicing attorney. But no one asked me.

He rolled his eyes and pointed at the phone, seemingly to demonstrate exasperation over the person on the other end. I didn’t buy it. Making me wait was a power trip, as was his insistence on holding weekly meetings with all the recruiters instead of quarterly, like Jill had done, leaving me to ponder, once again, why he’d chosen to leave his law firm, where junior associates, paralegals, and legal secretaries were at his constant mercy.

What special kind of hell did Michael have in store for me today? Would he praise me on a job well done or ask me to recruit for a cult or drug trafficking operation? I fidgeted in my chair and darted a glance at him as he gesticulated silently for whoever he was speaking with to get on with it. I wasn’t being fair. Michael wasn’t a criminal. He just had tunnel vision in a forest I preferred to scope for thorny trees and bushes.

“Will do. Bye.” Michael ended his call. “Thanks for your patience, Molly.”

“Of course.”It’s not like I had a choice.

“Let’s get right to business. What’s the status with Pro City Sportswear?”

“After a long pause for internal reasons, they’re looking to hire again. Two of the three candidates I’d sent to them originally were still looking and have now been asked back for second interviews.” Professionally, I was impartial. Personally, I was rooting for Romero.

“Nice. Good going on the Bluetronics position as well.” He pushed his chair back and kicked one leg onto the desk. “I’m glad you stopped being so picky with your candidates…you know…searching for the one perfect match. Just like one true loves, they don’t exist. There’s more than one pot for every kettle. It’s about who gets there first.” He gave a self-amused smile.

Who gets there first?I clenched my fists. This was quickly crossing the line to inappropriate, but telling him what Ireallythought about him wouldn’t get me out of this meeting any faster. “Right.”

“I brought up your name in my meeting with the board. They seemed favorable to an early promotion. Fingers crossed.”

This was where I was supposed to express gratitude for his support. And Ididappreciate what seemed like his authentic desire for my success even if I disagreed with his style. “Yes. Fingers crossed. Thank you.”

He lowered his leg back to the floor and waved me off. “Just pay forward the lessons I’ve taught you to new recruiters and we’ll consider it payment rendered.”

The idea of passing on hislessonsleft me feeling like the nauseated emoji, and I hustled out the door before it shifted to its face-vomiting companion.

I returned to my office in a foul mood. Why wasn’t I more excited about a possible promotion? Succeeding as a recruiter validated my choice to leave the law. I should have been thrilled.

I stared at my computer screen but lacked the focus to work. It occurred to me Esther hadn’t filled me in on her Tinder date from after our happy hour at Sachi. I opened our text message exchange and clicked the video call icon on the top. The phone had barely rung before the call was declined. I slumped against my seat.How rude.Adding to my last unanswered text, I wrote:Still waiting.

My phone rang—Esther. “I was about to text you,” I said.

“I’m just out of the shower. You can’t just FaceTime me without warning.”

“Since when? How was the date? Why are you avoiding me?”

“There’s nothing to tell. We had one drink and called it. I didn’t mean to leave you on read…just forgot to respond. I’m sorry.”

I stood and paced the floor. “No funny stories?”

“Not this time. It was a case of mutual lack of chemistry, so we cut it short.”

“Still an improvement over your last two.” I had no intention of waxing optimistic about her finding the one when she wasn’t looking. Like me before Jude, Esther wasn’t desperate for her forever guy, but at the very least, she was due a decent regular shag.

“Agreed.”

“By the way, why are you just showering now? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. No need to send Jude over with a quart of soup. I took a lie-in from work.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing. Grandma Jean’s soup is sublime…”Unless you have the flu.“When your taste buds aren’t on strike, that is.” I heard a male voice in the background. “Is someone there?”

“Where? Here? No. It’s…I have the TV on.”

“What show is it?” The only words I could make out were “sweet peach.”

“It’s…um…Hart of Dixieon Prime. Lavon asked Zoe if she wanted sweet peach tea.”

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