Page 1 of Before the Summer He Found Her

CHAPTER ONE

EZRA

Present

“Iplan on hiring people for two new teams,” Scott says, “and I want them to fall under your management.”

My body tenses. Adjusting my cell against my ear, I move through the airport in my bespoke grey suit, jostling through the throng of people. Maneuvering around them like it’s a sport I’m well accustomed to. In truth, it is.

All the while, my boss continues, regaling me with numbers and fiscal status and our yearly outlook and what that means for my company, Atlas Technologies. We’re a startup ISP moving on a fast track with some incessantly optimistic numbers.

“Two new teams?” I ask in my usual monotone, as if simply inquiring for more information, and not showing my true hand. Scott’s the director of our IT department, and my boss, and I’ve never given him a reason to doubt my faith in his decisions. To be clear, I don’t disagree with his plan to bring on new team members. I’m hesitant because he’s pickedmeto lead them.

“Yes. One team will serve as escalation, the bridge between Tier 2 and Tier 3,” he says, “and another that will handle automating tasks. You’ll of course keep your current team, and I’d like to pull one person from this team and move them up into one of your new teams. Promote from within. Hire outside to fill in their gap.”

Shit. I like my current team dynamic—and I gravely dislike change. There are four of us including me, the working manager, and we’ve all fallen into place together. Each with slightly different tech chops and outside experiences that together make one oiled machine.

I think about this as I pass into an open clearing, moving toward the main section of PDX with all the coffee shops and restaurants. Inhaling a whiff of coffee from the Stumptown stand, a surge of relief rushes through me. It’s good to be home.

“Well, all of this sounds great,” I offer, even though my words betray my feelings. “I expect we’ll start the interviewing process in the coming weeks?”

“Next week. Monday. I’ll have HR work with you and Tier 3 to set up the postings for each position.”

And although this is the last thing I want to deal with, I force a smile—so my tone matches—and say the next words without thinking about them too hard.

“You got it, Boss.”

“Oh, and one more thing. I have my eyes on Channah Abrams. Do you think she’d be interested in moving up? She’s been outperforming the other two on your team for years.”

At the mention of Channah’s name, my heart inadvertently flutters as I see her curly, golden hair and her soft, kind eyes. She’s been one of my subordinates for three years, the senior member of my current team, and she’s also my right-hand employee on this team.

And very off-limits despite the way my brain keeps wanting me to see her.

“You want me to talk to her?” I ask, finding my voice. “I can find out if she’d be interested in either of the positions.”

“No, not yet. Let’s wait until they’re officially posted. But between you and me, if Channah wants either job, it’s hers. I’d like to see her move into Tier 3 eventually, too, and this would be a wonderful bridge for her.”

“I think you’re quite right. She certainly has the technical aptitude and chops.”

“Yes. Let’s see how this goes, then. Talk to you later.”

After we hang up, I mull over his words, trying desperately to find the silver lining about me having even more people to manage—and losing my current team. It is a good thing, after all, to be given more responsibility. It’s a sign of progress. Of movement. I’m a manager today, but perhaps in the next year, they’d promote me to something more.

Yes, this is a very good thing.

Or so I continue to tell myself all the way through the airport, while Channah’s soft eyes haunt me. One mention of her from my boss, and that’s all it takes for her to become my focus once again. That’s all it takes for me to hear her bubbly laugh, the one I’ve heard in so many of our team and individual web meetings. That’s all it takes for me to recall all the funStar Trekmemes we’ve shared in our team chats as well as via DM throughout the years. Or the times the team has gotten into a conversation about whatever show in our private team chat, and it’s been Channah and me who have continued the discussion far after the other two logged off for the night.

On the quick shuttle to Economy parking, I skim through my work email. I know there won’t be anything new, and there isn’t, not since I last checked while in the air and connected to the airline’s WiFi about forty minutes ago. Even so, I have a compulsion to check my mail app at all times of the day. It’s a lot like how it used to be for me with cigarettes when I first quit smoking. When I do something, and I’m addicted to it, I’m addicted to it hard.

Glancing away from my device, I gaze out into the dark, hardly able to see a damn thing from the glare of the lights inside the shuttle. Little glimpses between the illumination reveal trees I know well, the sort that makes you want to inhale a deep breath because you’ll feel a surge of fresh, evergreen air enter your lungs. After a week spent between Philadelphia and Cincinnati, our newest markets, I’m glad to be back in a city with so much accessible nature again.

I’ll be even happier to be back at the beach.

A pile of us spills out of the shuttle, everyone racing their own separate way, rushing to get out of the cold winter night. Once in my SUV, I blast the heat and search for my favorite Spotify playlist, a mix of alternative rock and soft jazz. Then, I start my drive. It’s approximately an hour and a half back home, which for me is Seaside, and I spend most of the drive surrounded by a thick forest I love so damn much. My job might be stressful, and filled with spurts of travel, but I always return to my oasis at the beach.

It makes the tension of all this worth it.

I keep counting down the days—it’s only another forty or so more years before I can retire and live the rest of my life doing what I truly enjoy.

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