Page 16 of Prince Charmless
“Did that Evans guy ever accept your offer?” Julien squints at his MacBook Pro. His eyes look tired, and so do mine, probably. We’ve been in his home office working all night.
“No, he said he doesn’t want the stress of starting at ground zero.”
We’ve been on the search for a good finance person to head the Charlotte Foundation. Julien thought we could poach from hedge funds, but the word ‘non-profit’ has been scaring everybody off.
“I’m going to start looking for people with a background in charity work,” I say.
“When were you going to tell me we need to start looking for a new web developer too?” Julien doesn’t sound angry, just exhausted. I didn’t tell him because I was on the holdout that she would change her mind.
“Is it that important?” I click my pen a few times. “The main reason we need a website is so no one steals the domain name and uses it for pornography.”
Julien leans over the marble desk. “Rach was talking to her on speakerphone. Highlights include her likening you to Krampus.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“He’s an evil Santa Claus from Austrian folklore who shows up to children’s homes to scare them.” He types something into his laptop and turns it around to display a devil-looking figure torturing a child with a stick.
“She thinks I’m that?”
“I think her exact words were, ‘he’s like Krampus but with great hair’.”
“Great hair, eh?” I say as I run my fingers through it. Yesterday, I noticed my first ever gray strand. I’m only thirty, for Christ’s sake. To prevent any midlife crisis, I swiftly plucked it out.
“How is the second part of that sentence the thing you’re focusing on?” Julien’s heavy sigh suggests I’m about to be annoyed with his next words. “Can’t you just say you’re sorry?”
Yep. Annoyed.
“Every time I speak to that woman, something ends up going wrong. She wants me out of her life, and I’m happy to comply. I don’t care if she thinks I’m the—” I gesture toward the screen because I forgot its name already.
“Krampus,” he finishes.
“Whatever.”
At the time, I thought Melina and I were on the same page over the frivolousness of the conversation. The morning news debacle had put me in an ugly mood, and I got carried away. Though we usually end up at odds, I do enjoy talking to her.
“What were you guys even fighting about?” Julien asks through a yawn. “I couldn’t make it out.”
“Honestly, the whole thing derailed into something stupid.”
I replay how the conversation ended in my head. I really asked a woman to dance one day, and the next, I’m getting thrown out of her apartment. That has to be a new world record in douchebaggery.
“I might be a bit of a moron,” I realize.
“You know she’s here right now.”
If Julien wants me to talk with her, he’s going to be disappointed.
“No. I’ll just make the situation worse. We can find anyone to make a website.”
Though probably not someone as qualified. From what I gleaned through the technical jargon on her LinkedIn, she definitely didn’t agree to work with us for the challenge.
“That isn’t the point,” he says without a smile, a rarity for Jules. “We already have someone to make a website. She’s just down the hall with Rachel.”
“What do you want me to do? Beg?”
He throws up his hands. “Could you at least try? You’ve already broken one business relationship, and we haven’t even started the business yet. If you want this to happen, you’ll have to be able to get in people’s good graces. It’ll be helpful practice.”
Julien has never been afraid to call me out on things, another reason why I wanted to partner with him. Surrounding myself with yes-men isn’t something that interests me. I get enough of that at the palace.
