Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Olivia
I swipe my palms casually across the sides of my pants before shaking Chance’s hand. It takes everything in me not to let my voice quake as I say, “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Chance.”
“Yes, it’s so great to see you too, Olivia! I hope you don’t mind, but I brought along a friend.” He gestures to a towering woman in a pressed blouse. Her hair is graying, but it’s swept up into a bun that makes her look elegant and intimidating.
After introducing the two of us, he explains, “Margaret here is my boss, but I see her as more of a mentor to me. She’s part of the hiring team, so I thought it’d be good for you two to meet as well.”
He seems chipper and smiley. This should ease the tension in my shoulders, but I can’t take my eyes off Margaret. Her gaze is like a laser, boring a hole into my soul. I can feel her judgment as she looks me up and down. I tug anxiously at my blouse, wondering if maybe I didn’t dress up enough, or are my sweaty armpits soaking through my shirt already?
We take a seat at the table Chance reserved for us an hour earlier, and we all assess the menu in silence. The contrast to the noise in my head is overwhelming. Say something! You need to show them you have a personality, or they won’t want anything to do with you. Oh gosh, I wish Chance had given me more notice. I would’ve looked up him and Margaret on LinkedIn. At least then I could’ve come prepared with questions. This is a disaster.
“Do you two come here often? What’s good here?”
“I like the cobb salad,” Margaret says. A girl after my old San Franciscan heart. Now that I have the time to do things besides stand at a desk for fourteen hours a day, I prefer a meal with a little more protein.
Chance jumps in with his opinion. “The pulled pork is outstanding. You can get it as a sandwich with a side or just the meat with two sides.”
“Oh, that sounds great.” He looks satisfied with himself. One glance in Margaret’s direction makes me think that’s my first strike, as if what I order for dinner is going to dictate what kind of worker I am.
Again, I brush my clammy palms against my pants. I clasp my hands firmly in my lap, hoping that will help stop some of the shaking, but all it does is make them sweat more. Disgusting.
The waiter comes to take our drink order, but Margaret grabs him by the arm, insisting, “I think we are ready to order food too. We might as well do it all at once.”
The waiter, who appears to be in his late teens, nods eagerly as if he too is feeling a little offput by Margaret and desperately wants to win her approval.
As he scurries away, I say, “I’d love to hear more about the kind of work you two do at your firm. You said it’s a mix of non-profit work and marketing for other businesses, right?”
“Yes, we do a wide variety of work. Margaret is more of a supervisory role, overseeing client relations. I handle some of the client relations as well in some cases, but I do a lot more of the creative side of the job, taking our client’s needs and turning them into a fantastic marketing campaign.”
“If I joined the team, what sort of role do you foresee me taking on?”
Margaret jumps in as if she’s been waiting for this exact moment. “What sort of skills do you bring to the table? You’re a tax accountant, right?”
“Yes, I work in tax at one of the big four public accounting firms in San Francisco. It’s an extremely competitive process to get a job offer at one of those firms. I handle a wide variety of clients and have developed a lot of soft skills in addition to my technical skills. I’m up for promotion to senior this fall, but I’ve been given the privilege of acting in the senior role on about half of my clients this spring. As a result, I’ve learned a lot about teaching, leading, and engagement management.”
“But your work is primarily tax work? You have no marketing experience?”
“Well, uh, I’ve run an Instagram account with dog videos since my freshman year of college. I’ve done affiliate marketing for several products through my page, which has taught me a lot. I also have marketing experience from hosting the fundraiser for Resilient Paws last week. I spent a couple months planning the event, and while I had some help from the owner of the rescue and a few locals, I was completely responsible for the marketing and most of the planning. I revamped the rescue’s Instagram account and created a website for the rescue, which I believe could translate very well to?—”
“But one successful event doesn’t mean you’re cut out for marketing.”
The server chooses now to come out with our food, and I can’t help but feel a hint of relief. I just know Margaret was about to tear me apart. Maybe these couple minutes will give me time to come up with a solid pitch to win her over.
The young waiter looks like he wants to run for the hills as he realizes what he walked up to, and I feel kind of bad for him, but he still manages to do a good job of calmly placing our food down and asking if we need anything else before promptly running back to the kitchen.
The second he leaves, I cut in before Margaret has a chance to discredit me. “I recognize planning one event isn’t the same as having a resume filled with accolades, but I am a hard worker, a quick learner, and when I’m truly dedicated to something, like the rescue’s cause, I will move mountains to get things done well.”
I push my pork around on my plate. Such a shame, I was looking forward to this, but now I feel more nauseous than hungry.
“Miss Parker, I appreciate your eagerness, but I just don’t see how this will be a good fit. You don’t have an education in marketing. Your experience for the past two years has been in tax . That’s a very structured job, not creative like marketing. And quite frankly, I don’t think our firm has the capacity to teach you the fundamentals of the job. We need someone who already knows the basics.”
“I’d like to argue I do know the basics, considering what I just accomplished yesterday. That has to count for something. Plus, I’ve done extensive research on search engine optimization and used it successfully on the social media pages for the rescue and my account from college.”
There’s desperation in my voice now, and it’s like she feeds off of it. She gives me a smile that’s more like a sneer, and I can feel sweat begin to drip down my back. Oh god! Chance, give me some back up here! Come on!
“I can teach myself any of the basics I still don’t know outside of work. It won’t cost you any time or money.”
“You’ve already chosen your path. I’m sure you’re a great accountant if you made it to the large five or whatever, but I just don’t see how you’ll benefit us here. You’re best to just stick with what you know. It’ll be easier for everyone.”
My teeth are starting to chatter and my whole body is shaking as my nerves take over. I don’t know what else to say to this woman. She’s starting to make me doubt myself, and everything I thought could be true for me and my future. “I’m not looking for easy,” I manage to squeak just before I glance to Chance for some support.
He chomps down another bite of his pulled pork sandwich and pauses briefly with his cheeks stuffed like a squirrel when he realizes Margaret and I are both looking at him. He gulps down his food just to say, “Maybe this won’t be the best fit after all, but we appreciate your time, Olivia.”
I look back and forth between the two of them. Am I just supposed to leave? We only got our food five minutes ago.
“Uh, yeah, thank you both for meeting with me. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” I keep my gaze on my lap as I try to blink back tears. This went so much worse than I ever could’ve imagined.
Margaret reaches out a hand, giving me a dry smile. Guess that answers my question; it’s time to go. I take it firmly and then turn to Chance, murmuring thank you one more time.
I walk out of the place like a dog with my tail tucked between my legs, shame radiating off me like an odor. I slunk outside, managing to barely keep it together until the doors close behind me. I choke back sobs, desperate to protect the family walking ten steps in front of me from the mess that is about to explode.
I make it to my car and slam the door shut just in time for the tears to start streaming down my cheeks. I pull out my phone desperate to call someone and be comforted. I actually have people to call now! But then it hits me . Who am I going to talk about this with? My mom, Rhett, Callie, Lauren, they’d all be so disappointed the meeting didn’t go well. They were all counting on me to make this work so I could stay in Roots, and I blew it. I got their hopes up, but I should’ve known it was stupid of me to think the stars would just align and I could get a job outside of accounting just like that. That’s not how the real world works. How could I let myself be so na?ve?
My chest starts to tighten as my thoughts spiral, and I already know what is coming, but I don’t make any attempts to count or breathe like my counselor taught me. I feel like I'm right back where I was before I came to this town. I keep mercilessly pummeling myself with dark thought after dark thought. I’m so stupid! I can’t believe I let my guard down and let people in. Here I am, being a burden again. I blew it. I need to learn my place. It’s in tax. Even if I hate it, that’s just how it is.
My lungs grow tighter and tighter until I’m gasping for breath. Tears slither down my cheeks, and all I want to do is scream in pain. There’s this awful ache inside of me for everything that could’ve been. How dare I let myself believe I could do better? This isn’t just impacting me now, I have people I’ve let care about me, and I’m letting them down too. I swore I’d never let that happen again, but I did.
I clutch at my chest and let myself sob until I realize just how badly I’m panting, sucking in desperate gasps for air. My natural reflexes of self-preservation finally take over and I begin the box breathing technique my counselor taught me. In… two… three… four. Hold… two… three… four. Out… two… three… four.
My body slowly returns to equilibrium, the tightness in my chest lets up little by little, the tears on my cheeks slowly dry, and I feel myself catching my breath. Even as my body physically starts to feel a little better, my mind continues to swirl, and my heart feels shattered. Where do I go from here?