Page 111 of My Secret Snowflake
The waiter sets down our beers.
“Iris is more important to me than any job. I can get another job. I can’t find another Iris.”
“You know, Shooting Stars is looking for a GC,” Zeke says. “They’re expanding rapidly now after their last string of hits. Although they’ve previously survived on angel investors, they’re now looking to ramp up and get some venture capital funding, so I met with the CEO. I can put you in touch. Their GC is retiring, just holding on until they find a replacement.”
A chill goes through me. This could be perfect. Thereisa third way.
“My dad also knows of a possible GC position, but I didn’t want to get the job because of him, so there’s also that.”
“Apply for this one first, and then if it doesn’t work out, you should ask your dad for help,” Zeke says. “A company is not going to hire a GC based on connections. There’s too much liability on the table.”
“This position sounds perfect. I’d appreciate it if you’d put us in touch.”
“Definitely. I’ll send an email right now, connecting you guys. Cheer up,” Zeke says.
“Weren’t you the one telling me about those Hallmark movies where love conquers all?” Rupert asks.
I scoff. “If you’re going to quote Hallmark movies, I should warn you that now is the season to watch out for flannel-clad bearded men wielding axes who live in small towns seducing city women away from their wealthy corporate boyfriends.”
Rupert backs away. “It sounds like an invasion of Vikings.”
“I have to talk to Iris.” I signal the waiter for the check. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Again. Like when she didn’t trust I’d have her back. I need to tell her in person that there’s another option.
“And you used to make fun of us for rushing home to our girlfriends,” Zeke says.
I grin. “Now that I’ve seen so many Hallmark movies, I think you definitely need to rush home and keep them warm.”
Chapter thirty-six
Iris
ItextFaiththatI’m so impressed with the library she created at her school. She came up with the idea, asked for help, and saw it through to the end. Jazmine was right about asking for help and not doing it alone. I look up to see Liam waiting for me at the Central Park reservoir. I’d grabbed my workout gear from the office and asked him to meet me for a run.
“Shooting Stars is looking for cybersecurity employees,” he says. “I asked my friend.”
“Raphael was offered the CISO job there,” I say. “Should we start?”
The water is dark blue-gray, and the sky is completely overcast, obscuring the setting sun.
“You need to stretch first,” he says.
“Are you sure you’re younger than me?” I ask.
“I’m younger but wiser. I watch you make mistakes and learn from them,” he says. “Like when you pulled your groin muscle and then moaned about it for months.”
“Thanks a lot. Do you think giving up the Dream CISO job is a mistake?” I ask. “And that groin injury was really painful.”
“Not necessarily,” he says. “But you have to be happy with whatever you choose.”
I stretch my leg out, using the green bench for its height, as Liam reaches to the sky with his hands. Little sparrows hop near my feet, searching the ground for crumbs. They flutter away.
The plaque on my bench readsHis Path.
What ismypath?
Isn’t this my dream—to be the CISO of an entertainment company? I’d resolved not to be with a guy who can’t support my dream.
I should be happier, then.
