Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
S HANNON
When I made the plan to get to work this early—forty minutes, to be exact—I neglected to think about how I might look like a creep sitting in my car in the parking lot. No one knows me yet. What if someone calls the police? God, that would be my luck.
The bigger issue is that having this time alone with my thoughts gives me time to think about everything going on with Troy and me. I received a letter Friday from the courts notifying me that in sixty-four days, our divorce delay will be over... my marriage of twelve years will be over. Eighteen years of belonging to each other will end. Sixty-four days.
I’m not as relieved as I thought I would be. It’s been almost a week since Troy listened to me and stopped his nightly calls. But I’m still waiting for something good to come over me. I’m waiting for relief.
I jump in my seat when my phone alarm startles me. It’s time to go in. This will be it, I’m positive. Getting reconnected to using my brain, to being recognized for something other than giving birth to my children or saying vows to my... to Troy. This is what I need to make me feel right again. I step from my car, grab the new work bag Shyley gifted me, and straighten out the wrinkles in my pencil skirt before I walk toward the door.
“You’re smart. You’re capable. You’ve got this,” I mutter to myself. I nod as if in agreement and enter through the thick glass doors that adorn the front of the sleek, modern-looking building that houses the Stinson Accounting Firm. It takes a little more strength to pull open the heavy, thick glass door than I would have liked, and I remind myself that I probably need to do a little bit of arm weights. There’ll be time for that. I have more time on my hands now that Troy takes the kids for whole days, sticking to our parenting agreement.
I walk confidently up to the receptionist. She finally looks up after an uncomfortably long delay while she scrolls through something on her phone. She gives me a smile that I’m pretty sure isn’t genuine and eyes me up and down before standing.
“Hi, I’m Shannon Willson. It’s my first day.” I offer her my best smile, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as hers.
“Mr. Stinson is expecting you. I’ll walk you to his office.” She walks away from the reception desk without saying anything else, and I follow.
After we’ve gone up two stories on the elevator to the third floor, the receptionist walks me to a desk where a sharply dressed young man sits, clicking away at his keyboard. The receptionist, who I know is named Leona—only because I saw it on her badge—knocks on his desk. He looks up at her, annoyance in his narrowed eyes, one eyebrow raised.
“Leona, you know I hate when you do that. Say ‘hello’ like a normal person.”
Her flat expression doesn’t change, and her voice is nasally and disinterested when she speaks. “This is the newest. She’s supposed to meet with Mr. Stinson.”
Leona doesn’t wait for a response before walking away. I watch her with my mouth slightly open as she disappears into the elevator. I mentally shake it off, then look back at the man and smile.
“Don’t worry. Leona is like that with every new female that starts. She’s got her claws out all the time. Between you and me, she’s a real bitch.”
“She wasn’t mean to me, but she wasn’t very welcoming. That’s all.” It’s my first day. I certainly don’t want to solidify my opinion about anyone yet.
Plus, I’m in no place to judge anybody. God knows there are probably a million things people could say about me that would be less than flattering.
The man stands and gives me a wide smile. He extends his hand to me, and when I take it, he shakes it vigorously.
“I’m Lester. You can call me Les. I’m Mr. Stinson’s personal assistant, and before you meet with him today, I have some papers to go over with you to get you all situated. Let me grab this file, and then we’ll go over to the conference room to get everything taken care of.”
Wow. A personal assistant. Mr. Stinson didn’t have one when I worked here right out of college. The company must be growing. I follow Lester as he leads me to a big room with a gorgeous hardwood table and a huge electronic whiteboard on the wall. That’s also new.
“Have a seat wherever you’d like,” Lester says as he gestures around the upscale room. I pick a seat close to the door, and he sits down next to me, places the file on the table, and then looks at me. I take him in. He’s well put together. I’d guess he’s in his mid to late twenties, with carefully styled hair and trendy glasses. He rests an elbow on the table, puts his chin on his hand, and grins.
“Tell me all about yourself.”
My mouth hangs open again for the second time already, and I’ve been here for less than half an hour. I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing exciting to share.
“Um... well, I graduated with an accounting degree several years ago. I initially worked?—”
“Sweetie, I know all that from your résumé. Tell me about you. What makes you,”—he pauses and looks down at my résumé—"Shannon Willson, you.”
Well, that’s worse. I’d rather tell them all about my education and work history than talk about myself.
“Well, I’m thirty-two. I’ll be thirty-three soon. I have four kids. I?—”
“Holy hell, girl! First of all, I love how you own your age and aren’t hesitant to spit it out. Most women around here lie and take off five years. I’m not into women, but if I was, you should know that you’re rockin’, and I can’t believe you have four kids.”
It’s been a while since I’ve been in the workforce, but this seems a tad inappropriate. However, Les is being nice to me, so I guess I’ll go with it for now. Plus, I didn’t realize early thirties is an age you have to ‘own.’
“Um… Okay. What else do you want to know about me because that’s all there is?”
Les narrows his eyes and watches me for a second before he shrugs. “Okay, well, as you know, I’m Les, and I’m probably gonna be your favorite person here. I’m twenty-seven years old. My boyfriend is forty. If you ever meet my mother, please don’t tell her. She’ll hate that he’s older. I’ve been working for Mr. Stinson for a long time—four years—and don’t worry, he’s not as bad as they say, which is more than I can say for his sidekick.”
“Who’s they, and why do they say it? I didn’t hear anything like that.” A panic rises in my chest, and I really don’t love how this feels. I wonder if I’m being pranked. Plus, Mr. Stinson was wonderful when I worked here right out of college, so this isn’t matching up.
Les’ eyes widen, and I suspect he realizes he shouldn’t be talking like this about his boss. He forces a smile. “I’m only messing around. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. We can talk more about you at lunch so I can get all your deets.”
I don’t have any more ‘deets.’ Les will be sorely disappointed with how boring the new girl is.
Before I know it, it’s time for lunch, and Lester insists that I spend it with him and his group of work friends so he can introduce me to them. Everybody’s friendly, but I can’t focus on getting to know anybody because I still have this twisting in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t spent any time with Mr. Stinson yet today, and until I see him and confirm he knows the lady from Human Resources hired me, I don’t know that I can relax.
The problem gets resolved after lunch when Lester walks me up to the third floor and drops me off at Mr. Stinson’s office. When I get there, a man is sitting in Mr. Stinson’s chair, and I’m totally confused. This man is definitely not Mr. Stinson, who would have to be in his late sixties by now. No, this man is much younger, yet sits authoritatively behind the large, walnut executive-style desk.
The attractive man rises from his chair. “You must be Shannon.” He extends his hand to me, and I shake it, praying my hands aren’t sweaty. “By the look on your face, I’m guessing you were expecting my father. I hope you’re not too disappointed. I’m Jeff Stinson. Dad retired a few years ago, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
His smile is disarming, and heat rushes to my cheeks.
“Sorry, yes. I guess I was expecting the old Mr. Stinson... I mean, not old, old. But older than you.”
Geez, Shannon, quit talking already.
A warm chuckle grabs my attention, and it’s only then that I realize there’s a second person in the office as well. I turn my attention to him.
“Way to go, Jeff. You’ve got her stressed already. No wonder you have that reputation for being scary,” the man jests. He never takes his eyes off me when he’s speaking, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t immediately recognize he was attractive.
He’s very handsome, in fact. Styled hair, thick and dark, with green eyes that bore into mine like he wants to know all my secrets. He wears an air of confidence and a suit that I imagine cost more than my first paycheck here will be. The man sits casually with his legs crossed and smiles at me before he stands to gesture at the chair next to him like a gentleman.
“I’m Will, one of the senior accountants. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shannon.”
“Nice to meet you as well.” I smile at him and hope he can’t hear my heart galloping around in my chest like a herd of horses.
Over the next several minutes, Mr. Stinson, er—Jeff—as he insists I call him, and Will explain that Will is my supervising accountant. He’ll supervise me while I earn some recent experience to be eligible to sit for my Certified Public Accountant test. I should be pumped about the opportunity. Instead, the first thing that comes into my brain is that now I’ll have to take more care with my appearance every day if I’m working with this man all the time. It’s exhausting already. I push that thought aside.
“I look forward to learning from you, and I promise, I’m a fast learner. I appreciate this opportunity.”
Will smiles, “The pleasure is all mine. Jeff here always stresses me out with annoying twenty-two-year-olds right out of college, the frat boy type. I’m more than pleased to see that you are, indeed, not another frat boy.”
I spend the rest of the day with Will. He shows me the ropes and tells me his plan to get me acclimated over the next few weeks. One thing I’m grateful for is that Mr. Stinson is allowing me to work thirty hours a week. So, most days I’ll arrive by eight and I can leave at two-thirty. It’ll work out perfectly because I can still get the kids to school on time and then be home to pick them up. The only thing I have to worry about is someone watching Chase on the days the kids aren’t with Troy.
As I drive to my parents’ house to get Chase, I question why the job that was supposed to bring me relief doesn't, and it nags at me. I glance at my reflection in the rearview mirror.
“It’ll take time. Be patient. It was your first day.”
Great. Now I’m talking to myself. What is it they say? It’s okay unless I start answering...
I arrive at my parents’ house and exit my car. It hits me how fortunate I am to have the family I do. My parents have agreed to watch Chase on the days Troy can’t because he’s at the fire station, and I know any of my other siblings would help whenever they could. Emily has even offered if I continue to do her books. The woman is a genius in the kitchen, and she’s absolutely in love with breeding and raising the Labrador retrievers she does, but she sucks at math. Like really sucks.
I get to the side door at my mom and dad’s and walk in without knocking. I climb the few steps that lead into the kitchen from the side door, and I’m surprised to find my mom and Shyley there. Mom is pouring coffee into the three mugs on the counter, and my little bundle of energy is nowhere to be found. Concern immediately fills me, thinking maybe Chase escaped my mother without her noticing.
Mom must know exactly where my thoughts go because she looks up at me and chuckles. She picks up a cup of coffee and extends it to me. Then she gives me that soft, but concerned, smile. The one she does whenever she has something to talk to one of us about. Something she doesn’t think we’re going to want to hear.
“Oh, no. What happened? Did Chase break something expensive?”
“Chase is with Dad, sweetheart. Dad’s already taking him back to your house, so he’ll be there to pick up the kids from school. But we need to talk.”