Chapter 19
Thursday, December 13
As soon as I opened my eyes the next morning, my head filled with thoughts about Marco. He and I had stayed at the Odd Duck until closing, and when we’d stepped outside and hovered in the doorway, it seemed neither of us wanted to be the first to leave.
“I’m looking forward to Friday,” he’d said before giving me a tender, almost chaste, but oh-so-romantic kiss on the cheek. “I really can’t wait.”
I’d wanted to reach out with both hands, grab the lapels of his jacket, and pull him toward me. I could barely remember the Uber driving me home, only that I’d glided up the staircase feeling lighter than a cloud.
Bouncing out of bed, I headed to the living room, where I rummaged through the remaining Advent calendar boxes for the treat hidden in number thirteen. Parcel opened, I held up the brilliant red-and-green ugly Christmas sweater monstrosity I found inside.
“Dazey, look at this,” I said, guffawing at the immaculate rendition of Kit Harington, one of my favorite actors who played Jon Snow on Game of Thrones , complete with a Santa hat on his head and the caption Christmas Is Coming .
The rest of the black sweater was covered in a combination of embroidered snowflakes, swords, and a direwolf—House Stark’s family crest—leaving no inch of fabric untouched. I laughed again at Anita’s accompanying note.
Number 13 may be unlucky for some but not you.
Now you’ll never be a bah-humbug again!
The gift reminded me of what Marco had said about my Charlie Brown Christmas tree at the market— It’s so ugly, it’s almost beautiful —which was exactly why I decided to wear my newest Advent calendar treat to work.
Hazel almost choked on her coffee when I arrived at our cubicle and took off my coat. I grinned as she spluttered, “What are you wearing, where did you get it, and can I have one?”
“I thought we could do with some cheering up,” I said, wondering how I could possibly stop thinking about Marco and our upcoming date long enough to focus on my job for the next two days.
She nodded. “Things have been a bit morose since we moved to this floor, haven’t they? How come you’re in such a good mood? Is it because of Anita’s calendar?”
“Sort of,” I said, and when she gave me a dubious look, I told her about ice-skating with Joe, the interrupted kiss outside Game On, and how it had helped clarify my feelings for Marco, especially when I’d seen him at the Odd Duck.
“Marco’s the one for you then?” she asked after I’d finished giving her the details.
“Definitely,” I whispered. “Joe’s sweet, and our kiss was nice, but…”
Hazel winced. “Exactly what every guy wants to hear, that his kiss was nice.”
“He’s a great guy. Handsome and kind, too. I mean, on paper he’s perfect, but, I don’t know, there’s that special something missing. With Marco, there’s chemistry like I’ve never felt before.”
“He’s all you can think about, huh? That’s awesome.”
“Do you think I should tell Marco about Joe?”
“Why?” she asked. “You’re not interested in him.”
“Not in anything other than us being friends.”
“Then what’s there to tell?”
—
An hour later, Grant, Hazel, and I sat in the small conference room, locked in battle. Before Jennifer had left the company, she’d tasked Hazel and me with leading the compilation of the list of changes we needed the IT department to make to the company’s accounting software, a project Grant now had full control over.
Within ten minutes of being in the same room as him, both Hazel and I sat in our chairs with sullen expressions on our faces. I clenched my teeth as I listened to Grant drone on about why another of the changes we’d suggested wasn’t in the strategic plan , my frustration reaching heights I never knew existed.
“We need this modification on the client invoices,” I said. “Otherwise—”
“The description of the line item already includes all the necessary information,” Grant said, his tone clipped. “It’s been coded, and it’s perfectly fine for the customers I’ve spoken to.”
“It’s not about them, it’s an internal issue,” Hazel said. “From what Oliver told us, it’s not a huge deal to add another reference box on the backend. It’s a matter of populating—”
“It’s not a priority,” Grant said.
“Then let’s make it one,” Hazel answered. “It helps us by—”
“All right, all right.” Grant sighed. “We’ll add it to the list of nice-to-haves. Oliver and his team will get to it when they get to it.”
I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. This was the second time we’d gone over the issue in this discussion, and Grant either didn’t understand, didn’t care, or both. “It’s not a nice-to-have,” I said evenly. “Without this change, we have to manually go through all the invoices when we calculate sales commission for corporate payroll.”
Grant held up a hand. “Corporate payroll’s no longer under your purview, so it’s not your concern.”
“Doesn’t mean we don’t understand the consequences,” Hazel shot back. “The whole point of Jennifer asking for the invoicing and payroll systems to be revamped was to reduce manual effort, and the potential for errors.”
“Or, as you call it,” I said before I could stop myself, “generate wins.”
“Yes, thank you, Callie.” Grant’s acerbic tone was unmistakable, and I wondered if taking the finance department under his authority wasn’t turning out to be as smooth as he’d anticipated. “I know what information technology does for a business. I run the department.”
“What about the synergies you keep talking about?” I said. “We’re telling you this is a major time-saver, yet you’re ignoring us.”
“Again, you’re not in charge of payroll,” Grant replied. “Your colleagues will bring it to my attention if they think it’s important.”
Exasperated, I threw my hands in the air, unable to keep quiet any longer. “You always say teamwork makes the dream work. Why don’t you follow your own cliché for once?”
Hazel’s eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing into her hairline. Meanwhile, Grant glared at me. Pushing his chair back, he stood and said, “We’ll do this my way. Hazel, did you send me the cost breakdown for the year-to-date computer equipment spend?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Monday evening.”
“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t seen it.” Grant picked up his phone, his frown deepening as he scrolled. “I don’t have time to search. I need a printout.” He gestured to the door. “Now.”
Hazel, who’d unequivocally sent him the report three days ago, left the room with Grant on her heels. As I gathered my things, I turned around and saw Oliver standing in the doorway.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
He walked into the conference room, softly whispered, “Maybe I should ask you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Grant stormed out of here with a face angrier than a firestorm,” he said, looking concerned. “What happened?”
I leaned back and sighed. “The usual. He refuses to listen and throws his weight around. We pushed back. He didn’t approve.”
“You pushed back?”
“You say that like it surprises you.”
“It does,” he said. “You’re not one to…”
“Stand up for myself?”
“Be assertive.”
I shrugged. “Someone needs to set him straight.”
When Oliver stared at me, I got the distinct impression my run-in with Grant wasn’t the only thing on his mind, so I waited until he spoke again. “Callie, I need to ask you a question.”
“Okay…”
“I heard you were at Game On last night. With some guy.”
“Joe isn’t some guy,” I said.
“Joe? I thought his name’s Marco.”
“No, I mean yes. I went sledding and caroling with Marco, and I met Joe in May, so—”
“In May?” Oliver sounded hurt. “Why haven’t I heard about him until now? Wait…are you seeing him and Marco?”
I was about to launch into an explanation but caught myself in time. Keeping my voice even, I looked at my ex and said, “You and I broke up in April.”
“Yes, of course,” Oliver mumbled. “I guess I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Well…” I stood and gave him one of my professional smiles. “I’m thrilled the Whitlock & Blake grapevine is in excellent working order, but Joe and I aren’t together, and what I’m doing with Marco isn’t any of your concern.”
Oliver stared at me for a long moment. “Just because we’re not a couple anymore, Callie, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Sorry for offending.”
I opened my mouth to apologize but quickly reconsidered because his apology wasn’t one, not the way he’d delivered it. Before leaving the room, I said, “Don’t try to make me feel guilty because I didn’t share the details of my life with you.”
I didn’t give Oliver a chance to respond, and while walking toward my cubicle, I wondered how often I’d stayed quiet and let things slide in my relationship with him because it was easier to handle than us squabbling. For example, if he craved pizza and I wanted Thai food, we’d invariably ended up at an Italian place. When we were deciding on a vacation last year, I mapped out a trip to Switzerland, listing all the places we could explore.
“You’ve already been, and I’d rather relax on a beach for ten days,” Oliver had said, putting his arms around me as he kissed my forehead. “You say I work too much. Let’s drive to South Carolina. We’ll go to Switzerland another time.”
While I wanted to blame Oliver for this now glaringly obvious shortcoming in our relationship, it wasn’t entirely his fault. Letting things go instead of sticking up for myself had enabled his behavior, and I needed to change that.
“Callie?” Grant called out, interrupting my thoughts as he walked up behind me. “We need to talk.”
“Do you need another printout?” I asked as I followed him into the kitchenette, where he shut the door behind us.
“No. This is about your behavior earlier. You were way out of line.”
Again, I automatically opened my mouth to say I was sorry, except I wasn’t, so I waited for Grant to continue.
“I’m not impressed,” he snapped. “I’ll let it go this time with the understanding it’ll never happen again. I guess I have to accept it’s difficult for you to handle your emotions, given the circumstances.”
This time my mouth dropped open. “Handle my what ? And what circumstances?”
“Thanks for proving my point,” he said, with a nonchalant shrug. “Your inability to work in the same space as your ex-boyfriend doesn’t excuse you being rude to me. You need to get a grip.”
The Callie I’d been only a few weeks ago would’ve offered feeble agreement, no matter what she thought, but not anymore. I stood a little taller, my spine straightening, and I vowed to keep my voice steady, lest he paint me the hysterical woman. “Grant, my pointing out how your unilateral decisions are detrimental to the finance team has nothing to do with Oliver and me.”
“Sure,” he said, sounding unconvinced. “Again, I’ll let this one go, but get in line. That includes your choice of attire, by the way.” He made a circular gesture with his hand. “Do I need to remind you we have a professional dress code? Ugly Christmas sweaters aren’t part of it.”
After he spun around and left, I gave storming out and saying exactly what I thought of him substantial consideration. Except in Grant’s mind, it would only confirm his assessment of me. I wouldn’t let that happen, so I tried to calm my racing pulse. When that didn’t work, I called Anita.
“I was hoping you’d dish some gossip about what happened last night,” she said. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes, but that’s not why I’m calling. I’m on the verge of telling Grant exactly what I think of him straight to his face. I need you to talk me out of it.”
“Why? What did he do?” Anita listened intently as I gave her the details, waited until I’d finished before declaring, “The dude’s awful. What an asshole. Go to HR and make a complaint.”
“Not much point when he’s the CEO’s son-in-law. I’d rather set him straight directly.”
“As much as you want to, it’s probably not a good idea when you’re this angry,” Anita reasoned. “You might lose your job.”
“Right now, I don’t think I care.”
“You probably don’t mean that…” She paused for a moment. “You know, I always thought it was a bit desperate of you to not find another gig, but now I realize it took guts to stay. You didn’t run. You stuck it out despite Oliver being there, and all for the sake of your career. That’s impressive.”
I put a hand over my heart, wishing I could hug her. “That means a lot.”
“So, just like you didn’t let the breakup with Oliver screw you out of your job, you can’t let Grant do it, either. He’s not worth it.”
“The thing is,” I said, a thought slowly taking shape in my head. “I’m not sure I can ever enjoy it here as much as I used to.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yeah. I can do this stuff in my sleep, especially since Grant decided to silo everything. It’s already getting boring.”
“I thought you liked routine,” Anita said. “Safe and comfy is your jam.”
“Not to this level. I think it’s made me realize I want more. I need to be stretched, and Grant won’t allow that here.”
I could hear the smile in Anita’s voice. “Good for you. Want to talk tomorrow when we have more time? Maybe then you’ll tell me about last night, too.”
“If I say I’m going on a date with Marco tomorrow, will you leave me alone?”
“You are?” Anita asked. “That’s perfect . What about Joe?”
“I like him as a friend. Listen, I’d better go…but Anita?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Callie. Loads.”
Grant ignored me for the rest of the afternoon, and all his attitude did was light a fire in my belly. I didn’t mention anything to Hazel, and I didn’t text Anita, either, but as soon as I got home and had looked after Dazey, I settled on the sofa, opened my laptop, and navigated to LinkedIn.
An hour of scrolling through job postings and applying for a few roles, and I came across a brand-new listing that immediately caught my attention. A local firm called EcoTalent was searching for a vice president of finance and administration.
Curious, I clicked on the link to their website. EcoTalent exclusively dealt with recruiting staff for clean-technology roles and companies and was located about a twenty-five-minute walk from the apartment.
I navigated back to the job description, my heart beating a little faster. As I read through EcoTalent’s must-haves for their next VP of finance and administration, I knew I was a touch underqualified because they wanted someone with ten years of full-time experience, not five.
Reaching for my phone, I almost called Marco for advice but stopped myself. This was something I didn’t need help with. I’d been at a recruitment company for the past eight months, had a more than solid understanding of how the business worked.
From my time at Whitlock & Blake Recruitment, I also knew the necessary skills listed in a job description were considered a wish list, not absolute must-haves. It was incredibly rare for any prospective employee to have every single attribute an employer hoped to find. It was about skills, yes, but almost always, it came down to compromise and the elusive corporate fit —whether or not the candidate would make a great addition to the team.
I was a hard worker, a talented accountant, and I had great organizational skills. Reading the job description again, in my heart I knew I could do this role. Not only that, it would allow me room to grow. With excitement building in my belly, I pushed away the lingering self-doubt, clicked on the Apply Now button, and began to type.