28. Marnie
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Marnie
Procrastination is back in full force today.
The whispers around the office say that Josie drafted an official job posting for their current vacancy and it’s going live on the website at some point today. So, between all my tasks in preparation for my next progress check-in with Josie, I’ve been religiously refreshing the website.
Purely out of curiosity.
No other reason.
Okay, maybe selfishly to see if I might qualify.
It’s not like I was truly considering applying since I am still holding out hope for the promotion back in Boston, but I was interested in seeing if there were any hiring differences or special requests for this type of role at a large organization versus a smaller one like this.
Our industry is so small and competitive that I don’t tend to see job openings posted online like this. Most are handled and hired internally, like how John and I are the two finalists within an internal job search.
I let my mind wander. Maybe it would be a good idea to apply.
Then I’d get to stay on this beautiful island that I’ve grown to love with my new friends, and I wouldn’t have to put an expiration date on what Caleb and I have when summer ends.
Gwen likely won’t stay in Boston long-term with all the opportunities she has elsewhere.
And as sad as it will be to not live in the same city as her, it means I’d be free to pursue similar opportunities.
Besides a job, nothing would keep me tied to Boston.
Here, I’d be able to have it all. A dream job surrounded by loved ones.
A place to call home.
I refresh the employment page for what feels like the millionth time, and finally see the posting go live. Curator.
My stomach plummets. There it is. The rumors are true.
Without hesitating, I click on the posting. My eyes scan the job description and work experience requirements.
Holy shit. I meet all these requirements. Or at least I will once the exhibit unveils.
I read it over again. And a third time for good measure, filing this information away for later.
Once this afternoon’s progress check is complete, my priority now for the remainder of the week is to be there for Caleb.
I finish adding the last of the papers to my folder for Josie to read over, closing my browser and erasing all evidence that I was looking at the job posting before heading out.
“Thanks, Art,” I say with a wave over my shoulder as I stroll out of Wicked Brews, coffees in hand, taking extra care not to smudge the fresh Sharpie on the sides of either cup. Pumpkin spice latte for me, regular black coffee for Caleb.
I’m excited to be the one to surprise him with the tip jar question this time, thoroughly amused at the prospect of hearing him debate this one: Hocus Pocus or Beetlejuice?
Tucking Caleb’s coffee under my elbow, I reach up with my free hand up to pull my sunglasses down off my forehead and back onto the bridge of my nose, when I see someone dart across the road. It draws the attention of several pedestrians, all giving him a curious look.
Blond hair peeks out from the baseball cap, and despite his back being to me, there’s something familiar about his stature. I just can’t put my finger on it.
I glance down to readjust the coffee cups, but he’s gone in the blink of an eye. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he almost looked like?—
Nope. Focus, Marnie. It’s just the sleep deprivation and excess stress weighing on you between the exhibit and the impending dinner with Caleb’s dad this week.
I shake the thought from my head and continue to my car. The GPS calls out directions until I turn onto the final stretch of road leading to Hansen & Hansen Construction.
Inside, there is an office directory on the wall, and I run my finger down the list of names in search of Caleb’s, coming across a different Hansen instead—Rick. It’s only then that I realize Caleb talks so little about his father that I didn’t even know his name before showing up at his business.
I continue scanning the names until I see Caleb’s and follow the numbers on the walls down the hall to his office.
When I reach the open door of his office, it’s empty, both literally and figuratively. The lights are off, indicating he’s gone, but looking around the small office, he must not like spending a lot of time here based on the lack of personal effects. No pictures, no plants, nothing.
“May I help you?” a rough voice asks from behind me.
My heart lurches in surprise so suddenly that I nearly drop the cups.
I turn around and come face-to-face with the unmistakable image of Caleb’s father.
His facial structure is identical to Caleb’s, but his features are hardened and stiff.
The expression aimed at me is devoid of all the warmth and emotion I’m used to with Caleb.
“I’m looking for Caleb.” I paste on a small smile to avoid the growing awkwardness. “I thought he’d be here today.”
“He’s not here.”
The flatness of his tone almost reminds me of Irene. “Oh, yeah, I can see that now. I must’ve just missed him.”
He spies the coffee in my hands, then gives me a skeptical look. “If you find Caleb, tell him to return my calls, would you?”
I go to nod, and he cuts me off. “And you also tell him to leave his personal life at home instead of traipsing it around at my business.”
Indignation courses through me at being reduced to that. “Well then it’s a good thing I’m here for business and not pleasure,” I retort bitterly. “I’m working with Caleb on the Jaws exhibit over at the historical society and he owes me a progress check.”
“My apologies,” he replies, but the words don’t meet his eyes.
This is not how I imagined my first interaction with Caleb’s father going. The air grows cold around me despite the warm drinks still in my hand, and I fight off a shudder, determined to stand my ground and not let his words affect me.
I extend the black coffee intended for Caleb in his direction. “Since Caleb isn’t here to enjoy this, no sense letting it go to waste.”
He hesitates for a beat before reaching out to accept it. “Thanks.”
“If you find Caleb,” I echo his earlier words to me, “tell him the designs he created blew me away. He has a real talent for capturing exactly what someone else is envisioning and making it a reality.”
I turn on my heel and stride for the door, knowing damn well he won’t see Caleb before I do, but feeling overwhelmed with the need to defend Caleb’s work ethic and brag on his abilities in his absence.
Pushing the door open and stepping out into the parking lot, I try to shake off the uneasy feeling from my encounter with Rick, unsure how—or even if—I should mention it to Caleb.
Knowing that the dinner with his father is mere days away, it probably won’t help if Caleb goes into that evening with a bad mindset.
I just hope nothing else happens before then.