Page 12 of Idle

We enter the conference room where Dimitri offers me a chair, then perches on the table beside me. “We’ve been talking, and we really like your performance in compliance, Jesse.”

Who’s this “we”?“Thanks.”

Dimitri’s leg swings. “We’ve also been reviewing the organizational chart, and decided to make a few changes to the department.”

Oh crap. Please don’t let this be about the rumored promotion. I clasp my hands.

Unaware of my agitation, Dimitri continues, “We would like you to lead a new team in handling ultra-high net worth clients as our newest executive director.” His broad smile communicates I should be excited about this opportunity he’s laying at my feet.

It’s been a week since I submitted the application that Madison and Xander created for Paige and me, and haven’t heard anything. The Renovation TV website says decisions are being made shortly, whatever that means. How long can I hold Dimitri off?

I place my forearm on the table. “This sounds very exciting, Dimitri. What’s your time frame?”

“We’re thinking it’ll take about sixty days to get this project underway.” His eyes gleam at me, so I force my expression to exude positivity.

At least he didn’t say next week. The way things move around here, two months might as well be six, or even a year. I can fend him off for the length of time it takes to shoot the Renovation TV show, assuming we’re selected.God, I hope we’re selected.

“I’m flattered to be thought of for this new position.”

“To be honest”—Dimitri leans in as if conspiring with me—“This has been in the works for a long time. It’s been hard keeping this a secret, and we’re excited to begin the project. Your name was the only one we considered.”

Wonderful. “I don’t know what to say.”

For a brief moment, I allow myself to wonder what my sister Diana would feel about this promotion. My job, the bank, was supposed to be her wheelhouse. No need to wonder what Homer would think, however. As the chief compliance officer at a rival bank, I’m under no illusions as to his take.

Not knowing what to do next, I extend my hand and we shake. The time-honored way of showing appreciation within the business community. Standing, I retrace my steps to my cubicle.

With no expectations, I open my personal email for the third time today and almost miss the message.Holy shit!My pulse gallops. I close my eyes for a brief moment, then click on the email. And hold my breath.

Dear Mr. Dimon and Miss Hansen,

Thank you so much for applying to be on NYC Views. Over one thousand applications were made for the five spots we have available.

My heart stutters, and my limbs feel as if they’ve gained fifty pounds. I tried.Wetried. Even Madison and Xander’s best work couldn’t pull this off. Guess I’m looking forward to a promotion at the bank.

I’m about to close the email when the words, “We are excited,” catch my attention. What are they excited about? I return to the email:

After considerable discussion and review of all the applications, we are excited to extend an offer to you to be in the cast. We believe your skills, positivity, and the chemistry between the two of you in your demo will capture the minds and hearts of our viewing audience.

If you are still interested in being on NYC Views, please reply to this email and we will give you information about the show as well as our taping schedule. We really hope you accept our offer and await your response.

Yours sincerely,

Quinn Walker, director

I reread the email several times, confirming our application was accepted. When I’m convinced it was, I pick up my phone and call the only person who still has the power to end this. On the third ring, she answers.

“Paige. We got in!”

“What? Is this Jesse?”

In a flurry of words, I reply, “Yes. It’s me. Jesse. I got an email from Renovation TV and we’re in. They want us forNYC Views!” I forward the message to her. Not able to contain my excitement any longer, I cross the office toward the exit sign.

“Are you serious?” Her voice betrays no sign of enthusiasm.Yet.

“Deadly. I just forwarded you the email from a Quinn Walker.”

“Let me check.” As I leave the building, she mumbles, “Got the email—you’re right.”

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