Chapter 4
Four
Jasmin
After a few months of not having a job, waking up this morning to get here on time was a challenge. Not that I haven’t been getting up early in the downtime, but actually getting ready and making it to the office on time was a struggle. But I hope I at least look put-together.
My steps into the building are slow and steady. The last thing I want to do is look anxious. Putting on a good front is something I’ve learned to do throughout my life. It doesn’t matter if I’m minutes away from breaking down. Nobody else can know.
“Jasmin, hope you have a fantastic first day.” Mr. Lancaster, my boss, says as soon as I open the door. This feels like a good sign. It’s not often the higher ups in a company are at the front greeting their employees. At least, not anywhere I’ve worked before.
“Thank you, Mr. Lancaster.” I glance around the room and the way it’s sectioned off. The space is massive, and each section houses specific departments. “Do you know where my desk is? I forgot to ask after our interview.”
“Yes, of course.” He picks up a cup I assume holds coffee and turns away from me. “Follow me.”
People are settling into their cubicles, ready to start the day. None of them look like they don’t want to be here. At least it doesn’t look like I’ll hate working here. A couple of them even give me a warm smile and wave. I’m sure I’ll meet them throughout the day.
He leads me to the back of the room and shows me to a mostly empty desk. “This is where you are. Sharla will be here shortly. She has to drop her kids off at school and is always here a little later. She can get you set up and take you around to meet everyone. I have a meeting to get ready for.”
“Awesome, thank you.” Sharla stepped in during the last interview, so I only saw her for a few moments. She seemed nice, and I hope it stays that way.
I pull open the bottom drawer of my desk and set my bag inside. I double check my phone is on silent and set it down next to the keyboard. Sitting in front of the keyboard is a small basket filled with goodies. A few packets of calming tea, snacks, and candy. There’s a note tucked under all of it.
I hope this makes your first day easier and you like the snacks. I wasn’t sure what to get you. I look forward to working with you.
-Sharla
This small kindness eases all the nerves I had walking in. I’ve never had a company do something so sweet with no prompting. It may not be customary. Maybe it’s something Sharla does for her department. Either way, it makes me more comfortable.
I think there’s one other person who works in accounting, but I’m not sure. There are a couple of desks in this section. All I know is this company isn’t as big as the previous one I worked for, and it’s nice to be seen as a person and not just another set of hands.
I turn on my computer before pulling out a notepad to make a list of things I want to bring from home to make this space mine.
I saw a few desks that have personality, and I think I’ll be okay decorating my own.
Right now, I need to look like I’m being productive and study my space.
The last thing I want to do is get fired on my first day of work.
“Sorry I’m late. The drop-off line at the school this morning was wild.
It must be the warmer weather.” Sharla hurries past me and into the small office to my left.
The walls are glass, and I can see her set down her items, turn on her computer, and come back out into the main space.
“Hi, Jasmin.” She reaches out a hand for me to shake.
“I’m glad you made it on time. Though if you’re running a bit late, I don’t mind. ”
“Hi, thank you so much for the basket. I loved it.” I give her hand a quick shake, and pull mine back. I don’t want to seem overeager, even though I am ecstatic to be working again. Idle time isn’t something I do well with.
“Anytime.” She waves the comment away. “I remember how nerve-wracking a first day can be. My daughter says I’m extra.”
“Then I hope you’re always extra because it definitely helped.”
“I’m glad.” She comes around to my side of the desk and pulls a chair from one of the empty ones. “We’ll ease you into your tasks. We’re a pretty tight-knit group so don’t feel intimidated. And feel free to make your desk fit your personality. We want you to actually like coming to work.”
My direct boss’s whole demeanor puts my worries to rest. Maybe I needed to be let go from my past job so I could find one that feels like coming home. I don’t need to get ahead of myself, though. It’s only my first day. I’ll revisit this feeling in a few weeks.
We spend the next hour going over my tasks. It’s basic accounting and I’m not worried I’ll be lost doing it. The process is slightly different, but more streamlined, which I really like. There’s less of me having to do the work other people should be doing.
My phone lights up on my desk, but it’s from a number I don’t recognize, and I let it go to voicemail. I’ll check it at lunch. Besides, most people who know me know that I hate talking on the phone. Texting is my happy place.
Today is all about figuring out my schedule and how I want to do things. It helps that Sharla is laid-back and is fine with me taking my own approach. Mostly, I’m happy to be working again.
Finally, a bit of space. When Sharla said the employees are close, she wasn’t lying. So many people came by my desk to get to know me. Now I need to remember all their names. It was a lot for my first morning on the job.
I step outside to enjoy the warm Spring weather and check my messages. The number from this morning did leave one.
“Hi, Jasmin, it’s Parker. I needed to get some information from you about your sister’s wedding. If you could call me back, that would be great.”
My mouth drops open. He shouldn’t even have my number. What the hell is going on?
I don’t bother calling him back, not yet. I pull up my sister’s information and tap the call icon.
“Hello?”
“Why does Parker have my number?”
“I figured it would be easier to have you as another contact in case he can’t get ahold of me.” I hear the smile in her voice. I know she’s trying to cover all the bases, but it’s also a slap in the face. Mostly because it’s adding more work for me. Not that I mind, but asking would have been nice.
“He called asking for details. Did he not get ahold of you?”
“I may have also told him you’d handle everything for the event space since you’ve been there and know the layout.”
That’s it. I’m going to murder her. I know as her maid of honor, I’m supposed to take things off her plate.
But did this have to be one of them? I’d much rather pick out our dresses, or set up anything else.
Mostly because I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind since Valentine’s Day.
Seeing him again the other day has only made it harder to not think about him.
Now my sister is forcing me to talk to him far more than I expected.
“I’ve been there for one event. That doesn’t mean I know all the ins and outs of the place.”
“Please handle this for me. I’ve been trying to fight off my future mother-in-law.”
That’s weird. They seem so close. “Why?”
“Because she keeps trying to take over the planning. I thought we would have it bad with Mom, but she’s ten times worse. It probably doesn’t help that he’s the only child, so she wants to make sure everything is perfect.”
Now I see why she wants me to handle this one thing, but it’s still frustrating.
I don’t want to spend more time with him than I have to.
He’s not a bad guy or anything, but he made me feel like he saw me that night we spent together.
Temptation to repeat that is hard even if I know both of us are in agreement about relationships.
“Fine.” The word comes out harsher than I intended. “I’ll handle the event space. Is there anything else you need me to take care of?”
My sister lets out a long sigh. That’s my first hint I won’t like what she’s going to say. I’m bracing myself for what’s to come.
“Actually, we’re finishing up the guest list and we need to know who your plus one will be.”
The first thing I want to do is argue with her. “Won’t that change the number you sent me earlier?”
“I’ve already included it. I’m trying to figure out who needs to sit next to each other.”
Why does it always come down to this? It doesn’t matter if she knows I’m not dating anyone.
Between her and Mom, I’m going to lose it.
Their need to make sure I’m happily paired off is annoying.
Maybe I’d have different feelings about relationships if I didn’t have to take care of everything growing up.
The last thing I want is to take care of someone else as an adult.
Is it so wrong to be solely focused on me?
“What are you going to do if I don’t have one? Have an empty chair between me and whoever?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She laughs. “We’ll just have more room at the table. But if you don’t figure out who you’re bringing, Mom will butt in. I know you don’t want that.”
“Fine, I’ll see if one of my friends is available.” I glance at my watch to see if I need to head back in. Clearly, I won’t have time to eat lunch. Thank goodness Sharla gave me snacks for today. I’m going to need them.
“I don’t understand why you hate love so much.” I can picture my sister shaking her head. We’ve gotten into this argument many times. I guess we’re adding to the tally.
“It’s not love I hate.” She’ll never understand where I’m coming from.
She was the baby for a long time before our brother came along.
“It’s the responsibility that comes with it.
If I hated love, I wouldn’t go to your wedding.
I’m happy for you. Just please realize happiness is different for me. I’m content with my life.”
“God, that sounds so boring. I want you to have fire in your life.” It makes me think of the night I had with Parker.
There’s no denying the spark I felt. But that can’t happen.
I hear something brush across the speaker, and muffled sounds in the background.
“I need to go. We have some customers. But at least think about it.”
“Yeah, sure.” I shake my head. “I’ll call the winery after I get off work.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later.”
She hangs up without another word, and I feel drained from our short conversation.
I knew this would come up, but I thought she’d give me time before throwing it at me.
I didn’t realize the guest number she sent me was pretty much final.
It makes sense, I guess, since the wedding is happening soon.
But asking me about a date isn’t something to ask while I’m on my lunch break. She could have waited until I got home.
Now I’ll be spending the rest of my day learning my new job and hyping myself up to call Parker. Why did I agree to be her maid of honor?