39. Jake
Jake
And in the end, the final piece of the puzzle to change my life drops into place as if it was pre-ordained.
I’ve been trying to figure out how to do more than facilitate Mackenzie’s dream for Rhodes Vineyards.
I’ve been trying to find a way for me to be a part of her life, in Empire, while still keeping my job here in Toronto.
I don’t really want a part-time relationship or a long-distance one, and I doubt Mackenzie does either.
We need to be in the same place to give this a real chance, but that needs to happen without either of us sacrificing our ambitions.
It’s the riddle without a solution, until suddenly it isn’t.
Today will be the day the big promotion is awarded.
This is the one I want. This is the one that should be mine.
I message his secretary and say I’m on my way, straighten my tie and pick a bit of lint off my cuff. The stainless steel elevator doors are so shiny that I can see my reflection and I give the lapel of my suit jacket a little tweak. I look great. This is not conceit. It is truth. I clean up well.
No one can probably even tell that I’m nervous.
The receptionist for our floor gives me a little smile and a thumbs-up when the elevator doors open.
Then I’m whisked up the tower to the offices far above those of the minions.
The air is rare on these high floors. I feel the difference as soon as the doors open.
Sounds are hushed, maybe because the carpeting is about twice as thick.
Each senior partner has his or her own secretary and I nod to the one waiting on me. She presses a button, then opens the door for me.
The office of my boss’s boss is about eight times the size of mine.
The furniture is better and the view is phenomenal.
He’s not alone: two other partners are there, the three of them sitting around the small conference table opposite the big desk.
My boss isn’t there and I’m not sure whether that’s a good sign or not.
It doesn’t take long. We all know why we’re there. They review my performance that makes me eligible for this position, compliment my work ethic, and review the terms of the offer.
Then my boss’s boss clears his throat. “There is only one small consideration, Jake, which we need to address.”
“Sir?”
“I understood that you were going to consult for your family’s business, let me see, Cavendish Enterprises?”
“Yes, sir. It’s a minor time commitment to the family business, to help my brother who has taken over after my father’s passing.”
“I see. We are concerned, Jake, about any potential conflict for your time, given the additional responsibilities of this partnership.”
“I have managed to help my brother out on the weekends, on my own time.”
He winces. I know what he’s going to say.
And in that heartbeat before he says the words out loud, I know exactly how I’m going to reply. It’s like watching dominos fall in my mind’s eye, for my next words will launch a tsunami in my life, a tide of change.
To my surprise, I find myself looking forward to it, to the challenge, to the change, to the reshaping of every single thing in pursuit of a goal I didn’t realize I had.
“We would like you to surrender that consultation when you accept this partnership,” he says smoothly. “It will be much easier for everyone if you have no other obligations.”
“Not for my brother, though,” I say and watch surprise light their eyes.
“But still, Jake.”
“I’m not sure you can stipulate this, Mr. Peterson,” I say amiably, because we all know that legally they can’t.
“I’m asking you, Jake, as a sign of your commitment to the firm.”
“I’m afraid it’s not possible for me to agree, Mr. Peterson. I promised Mike. That’s a promise I can’t and won’t compromise.” I smile. “He’s my brother.”
This is not what they expected to happen. They don’t have a script. Mr. Peterson flips through his paperwork – ha, it’s probably the employment contract – but I rise to my feet smoothly.
In contrast to these three, I know exactly what’s going to happen now.
“I assume this means that it would be preferable for me to surrender my current position as well,” I say and the shock is unmistakable. “I will clean out my desk now and leave the premises. I have several weeks of vacation outstanding, but I’m sure HR can simply pay them out.”
“Of course, but are you certain that you need to be so drastic, Jake?”
“I think it would be the best for everyone, sir, but thank you for your concern.”
As I leave, I try to keep from grinning like an idiot. I feel free. I feel – wait for it – happy.
And I’ve only just begun to shake up my own world.
I’m not an idiot. I text my three best clients and tell them I’m going out on my own, then give them my cell phone number. I’m so glad I never signed a non-compete, which is funny in a way, as I never ever intended to leave this firm.
If you’re going to make a change, you might as well go for it.
I get my usual Tuesday call from my favourite head-hunter when I get back downstairs, but this time, it goes a little differently than is customary. Having put things in motion, I tap on Tyler’s door.
She’s suited up, as if she knows things are in the wind. She was probably hoping for a summons upstairs. She leans back in her chair to survey me, standing in her doorway, and her eyes narrow. “Drop by to gloat?” she asks lightly but I shake my head.
She’s heard that I was summoned, and in moments, she’ll hear what happened. Time is of the essence.
“Got a minute?”
She nods and I step into her office, which is smaller than mine with a crummier view. She’s facing the city instead of the lake, which is a depressing fate.
I lean toward her and lower my voice. “I turned it down.”
“What?”
I tell her what they offered, because I have to be quick about this.
“That’s twice what I make,” she says under her breath with fury. It’s just as I suspected.
“Only thirty per cent more than my salary,” I confess and Tyler is horrified.
“Bastards,” she whispers. “They told me…well, never mind.” Her eyes narrow. “Why are you here?”
“You have to play your hand, but I’m giving you a card. A really good one.”
“You just did.”
“Your lucky day. I’ve another for you.”
She smiles slowly. “What is up with you? I’ve never seen you help the competition.”
“But you’re not the competition anymore, because I just quit.”
“Go on!”
I don’t have time for that. “What is your cell phone number? Not your office number. Your personal one.”
“So, now you’re going to stalk me?”
“No! I’m the bear!” I say that without thinking but she laughs so hard she almost falls out of her chair.
“You. The bear.”
“I have it on excellent authority.”
“But why do you need my number?”
“Not for me. It’s for Leonard Staynor.”
“Why have I heard that name?”
“Because he’s the best head-hunter for finance people in the city.” I watch her connect the dots. “He calls me every Wednesday morning, but I always tell him I’m happy where I am. When he called today, I mentioned that a co-worker of mine isn’t appreciated despite her mad skills.”
“You didn’t.”
“You just told me that you make less than I do, and we do the same job with the same experience. We were up for the same promotion and I’m guessing you’re the next choice.
” I’m also thinking that my boss wasn’t in the meeting because Tyler was her choice, too.
Huh. “If you’re going to play the game and get what you deserve, you need another card. You need Len.”
She considers me. “Why are you doing this?”
“A friend of mine, the same one who told me I was a bear, said that it’s up to all the good men to make up for the choices of the bad men. She said that’s the difference between predators and, well, bears, and I like being the bear. I want her to think I’m one of the good guys.”
“Well, you are.”
“Let me prove it.”
Tyler’s smile is slow and it’s brilliant. “Thank you, Jake.”
I tap my phone, sending her number to Len. Her phone rings a heartbeat later.
“If I didn’t already have three kids, I’d have one of yours,” she whispers, and I put my hand over my heart.
“No reason to threaten me,” I tease, we laugh together and she answers the phone.
“Mr. Staynor,” I hear Tyler say as I retreat. “Yes, of course, I’ve heard of you.” She smiles and waves for me to shut the door after myself. “Only the very best things.”
It’s amazing how readily things can realign. I’ve noticed this before. You make one change, or embrace one possibility, and the universe moves to support what is right and good. It’s impressive when it happens.
The mechanic at my go-to garage has loved my car as much as I have, right from the beginning – and he knows how to treat it right.
I stop by and we haggle a bit, only a bit, before I take his money and hand him the keys.
He has a used truck that impresses the heck out of him, so we talk about that, and then I switch out for a smaller cheque from him and a new set of keys.
My condo is in a multi-building development and the last building is still under construction.
That means there’s a sales office still, and they take care of sales of existing units, as well.
I stop in there – it is a feat to find a parking spot for the truck, but I manage – and share the news of my unit’s upcoming availability.
The woman who works there is older and brilliant at what she does. She has the most amazing memory. Every time I’m there, I wonder how many units there are in the development because she remembers them all.
“2607,” she mused closing her eyes. Does she have every unit memorized? “The large one-bedroom model, with the small den.”
“That’s it.”
“Lake view?”
“Yes.”
She fixes me with a look. “Did you get the kitchen upgrade?”
“Marble counters and stainless steel appliances,” I agree. “Window treatments and upgraded flooring, extra insulation and the separate shower in the bath.”
“Nice,” she whispers, and I’m glad we’ve both agreed to ignore the building under construction to the south. Who knows? It might never be completed. “When can I show it?”
“Give me a couple of hours.”
“It won’t take long,” she says. “I have a list.”
“Do you have a studio apartment, maybe on the second or third floor? I like the building and the location. I just need a smaller space.”
“Changing jobs?” she asks with sympathy and really, she’s right.
“That’s it. Downsizing for me.”
She flips through candidates on her computer. “I have a serious bargain that isn’t moving. You could make an offer and they’d probably take it. Second floor. Small studio.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It has a view of a brick wall, which is bleak.”
“I like bleak,” I say. “Bleak is private.”
She laughs. “It is that.”
She tells me a number, I counter with another, and she says she’ll let me know. She offers to arrange the financial end so I just move from one to the other in the simplest way possible and I go for it.
Now that I accept help, I’m all in.
I’m at the moving store picking up boxes when her message comes in. It’s official. I’m moving downstairs and can pick up the key anytime. The other unit is empty and she wants mine cleared out of personals to show it tonight.
The rest of my day is spent moving stuff, even though I don’t have much.
My suits fill the smaller closet. My kitchen packs up in a couple of boxes.
I take the painting and leave the television, which is wired in and isn’t worth the trouble.
I book movers to take my stuff to Port Cavendish.
It won’t fit downstairs, but I can shop to furnish that place later.
Daylight is wasting and I need to buy a sailboat.