Chapter 10
ten
beg for a job
R yan’s alarm woke him at six on Monday morning. He almost threw his phone across the room before he remembered why he’d set it so early. It was time to go begging. Today was going to suck.
What did one wear to beg for a job? A suit, of course. He pulled a wrinkled navy suit out of his closet and hung it in the bathroom to steam while he showered. He didn’t even own an iron. Steam poured out of the shower, and Ryan stepped over the edge of the tub and washed.
He still wasn’t sure selling out to his corporate overlord family would be worth it.
But if he wanted access to his trust fund, this was his last chance.
His attempts to convince a sophisticated woman to play girlfriend had failed, and not only was he not ready to explain his grand plan, but he wasn’t even sure he had one.
A podcast and associated YouTube channel dedicated to the intersection of history, food, and culture were unlikely to inspire any confidence from his father.
Even with a handful of completed scripts and a solid business plan, he’d think it was a waste of time, as he had the school plays, creative writing, and photography in high school.
Ryan had excelled in those subjects, and had actual fun, but it wasn’t good enough for his father.
Shower thoughts. Sometimes he had strokes of genius, sometimes he overthought the only viable decision on the table. Sometimes, he imagined a curvy woman with lake-blue eyes was in the shower with him, her pretty pink lips?—
Enough .
He toweled off and dressed in a white shirt, a red and blue striped tie, and his navy suit.
He looked at himself in the tiny mirror in his bathroom.
A wrinkled mess stared back, uncomfortable in his own skin.
Ryan yanked off the tie, tossed the jacket on the bed, and dug through his closet for his best pair of jeans.
He pulled out a button-down short-sleeved shirt with a geometric pattern he liked.
In a few minutes, he was eating toast in the kitchen and staring at the pile of research books.
His fingers itched to pull out his laptop and work on the script.
Now, when he needed to leave in a few minutes, did the ideas start flowing.
Mateo came out of Iz’s room as Ryan shoved his arms into his leather jacket.
“Dude, where you going?” his best friend’s boyfriend said with a wide yawn.
“Job begging,” Ryan replied.
“Good luck.”
Iz poked their head out at this exchange.
“Gonna see you at Nopalitos later?” they asked.
“Depends, Iz. I hope so.”
“Tell Alex hi from me.”
Ryan grabbed his helmet and keys and headed out the door.
It was only a fifteen-minute drive to the offices of DeMarco Property Management.
He parked his bike under the solar panels that covered most of the lot.
His dad’s Mercedes was already there, as was his brother’s Buick.
Since he was a few minutes early, and the door wouldn’t be unlocked yet, he took a moment to gather his thoughts.
His dad would be pleased his power play had worked.
Ryan hoped he’d be able to work maintenance, the only thing about property management he enjoyed.
Hell, he’d even been able to help his current landlord, who’d taken a bit off his rent when he’d been available to help other tenants with urgent or emergency maintenance problems.
The click of the door unlocking brought him back to the present.
“Ryan?” A woman about his age opened the door. Valerie, the office manager who would soon be moving.
“Hi, Val.”
“Come on in. You should’ve knocked.”
“Nah, I needed a moment. Alex says you’re moving soon?”
Val had been with the company since it had become apparent Ryan wanted nothing to do with it, six months after he’d graduated from the U.
“Yeah. Ben got a great offer in Phoenix. We close on the house there next week, and the movers come in three weeks, the Saturday after my last day.”
He stepped inside and the door closed behind him.
The lights were on, but Val seemed to be the only person here.
Most of the employees came in around eight.
Tuesdays and Thursdays, DPM was open until seven at night to help accommodate people who worked typical business hours.
The office manager usually came in early.
His dad’s schedule varied, but Alex was usually in during normal operating hours.
Most of the employees worked in an open office, each with their own cubicle, but there were several offices on the perimeter.
His dad and brother each had one, CEO and Chief Operating Officer respectively.
His two aunts had their own offices as well.
Annetta was the bookkeeper and Gisella was in charge of marketing.
“You here to see your father?” Val settled into her seat at the reception desk.
Ryan sighed. It was his last chance to walk out of here, find work somewhere else, convince Iz’s family to give him more hours. But unless he worked in a similar field, his dad wouldn’t relent until Ryan had a job he approved of. Bartending, podcasting, and living off the trust fund didn’t qualify.
“Yes.”
“Head on back. I’ll let him know you’re coming.” She picked up the phone as he trudged toward his father’s office.
Before he could knock on his father’s door, it opened to reveal his brother’s slightly taller, slimmer frame.
Alex took after their mother in this, as well as with his lighter brown hair and hazel eyes.
But in his approach to life and business, he was their dad’s twin.
Ryan, on the other hand, looked almost exactly like their dad, but his personality was unique in the family.
His grandmother had once told him he was a pearl in the middle of gold coins. Then she gave him a cookie.
“Hi, Ryan. Come on in,” Alex said with a professional smile.
His brother clapped him on the back as he moved into the office. His dad stood as Ryan entered and held out a hand. He took it and gave it the firm shake Alessandro had taught him at age ten.
“Ryan. We weren’t expecting you.” His dad sat down. Alex took a chair in front of the desk, but Ryan remained standing. “What do you need?”
Fair. Except for planned family events, Ryan usually only ever talked to his father when he needed something from him or when his mother passed the phone on their weekly calls.
He steeled himself.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about your ultimatum at New Year’s,” Ryan said. “I graduated five years ago, and I can see from your perspective where I haven’t accomplished much. My goals are different than the rest of the family, and in order to reach those goals, I need access to my trust fund.”
“If you’re trying to argue your way out of working for the family business—” his father said.
“I’m not. Please, just hear me out. Working for the family will give me much less time to devote to my own goals. I’d like to negotiate a limit after which I’ll be able to pursue my own ambitions without you holding the trust fund over my head like a g—like a sword.”
He caught himself in time to not profane God in front of his father. That would’ve lost him the argument.
Alessandro DeMarco tented his fingers and pressed his lips together, age-old signs he was seriously considering the deal on the table. After a moment, he made eye contact with his younger son.
“You turn thirty in a little over two years,” he said. “You give that time to this company, and if you decide to pursue your own goals after, the trust fund will be yours, free and clear, but not a penny until then.”
“Great.” Ryan had successfully negotiated with his father, a feat he’d rarely accomplished in his almost twenty-eight years on earth. A minor miracle. Maybe a major miracle. “I’d like?—”
His dad held up a finger. Ryan swallowed what he’d been about to say.
“Since you worked every summer in maintenance, you will use the next two years to rotate between departments. Not accounting,” his father said as Ryan opened his mouth to object. “It was a disaster then, and it would be a disaster now. But marketing, sales, acquisitions, and here in the office.”
Ryan nodded. It was a reasonable requirement.
“As I noted, Val is leaving us, so I’ll have you start as office manager. I haven’t interviewed anyone I liked yet. It’s an effective way for you to get to know everyone and, of course, how the office and the company runs as a whole.”
“I’ll need to give the Ochoas my two-weeks’ notice. I’ll know which weekday shifts I can get covered by the end of the day.”
Two of the shifts were the next two Saturdays, so he could work those.
One shift was tomorrow night, and he’d volunteered to take it from the usual bartender so she could go to a concert.
It was too late for anyone else to cover, but the rest should be easy.
The other bartenders all owed him favors.
“It’s just a bartending job,” his father said.
“It’s my job, with my best friend’s family. I’m not leaving them holding the bag, and I refuse to throw away a lifetime of friendship over any job.” Ryan tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but from his brother’s face, he hadn’t been successful.
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed, and he pressed his lips together. “Fine. Can you be here first thing tomorrow to train with Val?”
“Yes, but I have a shift I have to work tomorrow night, so I can only work until three.” And going in to the restaurant from four until close was going to suck ass, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.
His dad gave him a sharp nod, acknowledging the facts while not being happy about them at all. It’s not like Ryan was thrilled with the whole arrangement, either. They’d have to make the best of the situation. Alessandro rose and held out his hand again. Ryan took it.
“Bring your paperwork tomorrow and a shirt and tie. I know you enjoy getting under my skin with how you dress, but you’ll be the first person someone sees when they walk through our door. First impressions matter.” His father returned to his work, effectively dismissing his younger son.
That last bit was all too true, as Ryan had discovered to his detriment during his absolute clusterfuck of a date last week.
“Fine. See you tomorrow.” Ryan left. Anything further at this point would be fruitless. His brother followed him out of the office and closed the door behind them.
“Should I check the forecast?” Alex grinned and waved his phone around.
“What?”
“You said there’d be a blizzard in Tucson before you worked for Dad?—”
Ryan punched Alex’s shoulder.
“Ow!” Alex rubbed the spot and chuckled.
“I did some thinking.”
“Ah, you mean Iz talked some sense into you.”
“Fuck you.” He hated that his brother knew him so well. “But yes, Iz pointed out that with access to the trust fund, I won’t have to work for a long while after I’m done here. I’ll finally be able to give my project my full attention.”
“You’re being so cagey about this project, Ry. Want to fill me in?”
“Nope, you’ll get all judgy, or worse, try to help. When I have a prototype and a business plan, I promise you’ll be one of the first to hear it.”
“Only so I can play Dad.” Alex’s hazel eyes twinkled.
“God, yes. That way I can throw together counterarguments for when he tries to tear the whole thing apart.” Ryan snorted a laugh, and his brother joined him. His dad was a tough negotiator and a great businessman. If his plan could pass Alessandro DeMarco’s tests, he’d be fine.
“So, I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Looks like.”
They bro-hugged, part handshake, part hug, part dominance display. Alex went to his office and closed the door, and Ryan walked to the reception area.
“It seems I have an apprentice,” Val said with a grin as he walked to her desk.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ryan returned the grin. “See you in the morning.”
Ryan snagged his helmet from where he’d left it and strode into the clear mid-morning sunshine. He took a deep breath, appreciating his last day of freedom.