56. Chapter Fifty-Six
Most people say Monday mornings are the worst. I used to think that too, but it’s recently changed. They’re my favorite day of the week now. My weekends are spent mulling around and wallowing in misery, wishing my life didn’t suck so much. I fight with wanting to do something to occupy my mind, but not having the energy to do it. My brain doesn’t stop. I’m both exhausted and not at the same time. But Monday mornings bring work, and work is something to focus on. It’s enough of a distraction that chunks of time go by when I’m not thinking about Cole.
I used to hate Mondays because it meant leaving Cole. Now I love them because it keeps my mind off him. Other than the ride to and from work, of course, because how can I not think of him while I’m driving that car?
I still can’t believe he bought me a car.
Maybe one day I’ll forget about it.
Or maybe one day I’ll burn it to make myself forget about it.
My desk phone rings, which is odd. It hasn’t rung once since I’ve been here. All of our communication goes through email or people walking up to my desk—since we’re all in the same room.
“Hello, this is Bryson.”
“Good morning, Bryson. It’s Charles Baker. Could I see you in my office, please?”
My mouth goes dry even though his tone is chipper. Charles Baker is a big boss. One on the eighth floor.
“Sure. Right now, sir?” I ask carefully.
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll be right up.”
I put the phone on the receiver and stare out the window for a long moment. Charles is the head of marketing, not just the floor manager. And I’m pretty sure I’m about to be fired. For what? I have no idea. But I can’t imagine another reason he’d want to see me on a Monday morning without setting up a meeting.
I try not to worry about it as I take the elevator, even though my palms are sweating, and I feel like I’m going to pass out. There’s nothing in this elevator to keep me occupied, and I left my cell on my desk in my rush. Not that I have much time to do anything. The ride up takes seconds. It only feels like hours.
The eighth floor comes all too quickly. I’ve never been up here before, but it looks like all the other floors at first glance. Until I move deeper and see it’s not as open. There are many closed offices, which makes sense. The department heads need privacy.
I wonder if Cole built these offices… He said he did work here. I never asked specifically which floors he worked on or what he did. It could be anything. He could have touched the desk I’m at. Walked along the same floors I do.
My thoughts are pathetic, I know.
I reach the receptionist, who is a young girl with dark hair and large, round glasses. She looks up at me with a smile. “Hi, can I help you?”
“Good morning. I’m here for Mr. Baker.” I shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself from wiping them on my pants.
“Your name?” she asks.
“Bryson Montgomery.”
“Just have a seat by the windows, and I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
I move to the small waiting area but don’t sit. I move directly to the window and look over the city. The view is beautiful, just like I thought it would be. I could sit up here for hours and just look out. Imagine being able to wake up to something like this? See it every day?
It’s at this moment I decide one day I’m going to live in a penthouse in some big city. I want to be at the top of a tall building, looking out at it with the best view. May be a silly goal, but it’s something I want.
“Mr. Montgomery? He’s ready for you.”
I take another second to look out at the tall buildings and busy streets, then head back to the secretary. She’s standing by the desk.
“I’ll take you to his office.”
We walk down a few halls, and she knocks when she reaches the door with his name on it. It isn’t a plaque, but it’s carved into the door.
I wonder if this was Cole’s idea.
I really need to stop thinking about him.
“Come in!” Mr. Barker calls.
The receptionist opens the door and gestures for me to go inside with a wave of her hand and a bright smile.
The man behind the desk is younger than I expected. Maybe mid-thirties, possibly a little older. I haven’t had the chance to meet him face-to-face before now because he’s a busy man, but I see him copied on most emails. The door closes behind me and it’s as loud as a prison door slamming shut.
“Please, have a seat,” he says, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. His back is to a wall of windows that also has a spectacular view. From here, you can see one of the small lakes in the distance. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Water?”
“Water would be good, thank you,” I answer as I sit, swallowing hard.
He moves to a mini fridge in the corner of his office by a coffee station and pulls out a small bottle of water, putting it down on the desk in front of me. I take it and take a sip, trying not to choke because my throat is tight.
“How do you like it here so far?” he asks, taking a seat and leaning back. There’s a slight smile on his face, and this doesn’t feel like I’m being fired.
But that doesn’t stop me from thinking it.
Why else would I be here?
“It’s wonderful,” I say. “Everyone is friendly, hardworking. I like what I do.”
He nods thoughtfully. “That’s important. I’m glad you enjoy your job. So, let me ask you this: How attached to this location are you?”
That is an odd question.
“Location as in…”
“As in Beaumonte, the city.” He gestures around us.
“Uh, well…” I clear my throat. “I don’t hate it, but it’s convenient. I live in Lynncastor, so it’s not a far drive, but other than work, I don’t have any ties to Beaumonte.”
He purses his lips and sits forward, resting his forearms on the desk.
“Have you ever considered moving?” he asks carefully.
This conversation isn’t going in the direction I expected it to. I’m getting more and more confused as time goes on, honestly.
“Moving to where, exactly?”
“Boston. It’s a beautiful city. Have you ever been?”
I blink, then blink again. He wants to know if I’ve ever considered moving to Boston? I’m so confused by this conversation.
“I visited a few times while I was in college. Providence isn’t far.”
“That’s right. You went to RISD.” He points at me, grinning.
“Yes, sir.”
He holds my gaze, continuing to smile as I reach for my water. This is awkward at best. I take a long sip.
“So here’s the thing, Bryson. You don’t mind if I call you Bryson, do you? I should have asked that first.”
“Of course not.”
“Okay, Bryson. Here’s the deal. We have another location in Boston that has skyrocketed with clients, and we need employees immediately. It’s easier to send over people who have experience to train the newcomers rather than hope they catch on and don’t mess up accounts.”
“I’m hardly experienced, Mr. Baker.”
The words come out before I have a chance to think about what he’s just said. He wants me to move across the country. Away from my home. My friends. Cole.
“I’ve talked to your direct manager. He says you’re doing exceptionally. You’re smart, witty, and quick with projects. You listen to what clients want and you deliver. Every account you’ve worked on has been a success in the eyes of the client. Those are important things when it comes to what we do. Our clients make us the money. They are the ones who keep food in our mouths. If they’re happy, we’re happy.”
I smile because I’m not sure what else to do. Until out of nowhere, a million thoughts flood my brain. How will I get there? How can I afford that? Where will I live? Boston is expensive. I have to start somewhere, so I start with making sure I’m understanding him properly.
“Let me get this straight. You’re offering me a job doing the same thing I’m doing here… but in Boston?”
He lifts his hand, tilting it from side to side. “Sort of. It would be a step above what you do because you’d be training new hires as well.”
“Even though I’ve only been working here for like two months?”
“As I said, I received an outstanding report from your manager.”
“When would this take place?”
“As soon as possible. We’re making offers to current employees today and tomorrow. Scouting for living accommodations for the rest of the week and will hopefully have that set up by next week.”
It’s like a miracle just dropped into my lap. This is the answer I need. The thing that I’ve been trying to figure out. How many times have I said I should have stayed on the east coast? How many times have I considered going back? And now I’m being offered a job there. This is the answer to most of my problems.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure I can afford to move to Boston.”
“Ah, and that’s the beauty of it.” He leans back in his chair again, swiveling from side to side. He’s giddy, like a child playing in the chair for the first time. “We are covering the cost of moving in, three months of rent, and will pay half for the following eight months. There will be a nice salary increase, not only for the bump in position but because Boston is expensive. Travel will also be paid for.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. This is all too perfect. Too unbelievable. This can’t be real.
When I find him watching me carefully, I roll my lips between my teeth.
“Sorry, I’m just struggling to believe this.” I shift in my seat. “You’re telling me if I move to Boston, you will pay for me to get there, for my apartment, and give me a raise?”
He grins, pointing at me. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He pats his chest, then digs into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a pack of gum. He takes one, and offers it to me, but I decline.
“This can’t be real.”
He chuckles, putting the gum into his mouth and tossing the wrapper. “It certainly is. And you should be proud. We aren’t offering this to everyone. We see potential in you. You’re young, learn quickly. I think you’ll do well in Boston.”
Wow, if this isn’t exactly the opposite of why I thought I was here.
“When do you need an answer by?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“I guess I have a lot to think about then.”
“If you have any questions, feel free to email me.” He gets up and shows me to the door. “I hope you choose to take the job, Bryson. I really think you’ll do spectacularly there.”
It’s not like I have anything here for me, but it’s still a tough decision.
Putting three thousand miles between me and Cole? That’s a difficult thing to think of. Makes me sick to my stomach, honestly. But what’s the point of staying? We haven’t spoken. We can’t be together. Why stay? There’s nothing keeping me here.
This is an opportunity I shouldn’t let go to waste. Still, I need time to think about it.