CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHRIS
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Chris
I find our Head of Design, Max, in the pantry kitchen, eyeing up a fresh box of doughnuts that comes weekly and that no one eats, other than him. I’m making it a personal mission to eat everything in this pantry at least once, other than the vegan items. I’m not too fussed about those. We get so much food delivered daily, and I wonder if it’s a ploy to keep us here rather than having us venture out for a proper lunch or coffee break. It works.
‘If a résumé’s landed in your inbox from a woman called Lexie, will you take a look at it?’ I ask. Even though whatever was between Lexie and me seems to be no more – as I am 99.9 per cent sure that ‘friend’ comment was a thinly veiled hint to send me on my way – I still like her. And I know she wanted a job in design, so I will put in a good word and see this through to its conclusion. Whatever that may be.
Max and I are quite good mates. We bonded over our shared annoyance that there’s no kettle for a proper cup of tea in this office. Americans don’t do kettles. While Max is a dyed-in-the-wool New Yorker, his grandad was English and got him hooked on Yorkshire Gold. I have to buy him a big box whenever I go back to the UK. Max doesn’t look up at me, so intent as he is on his doughnut selection. ‘I’ve been looking at every résumé that’s come in,’ he says absently. ‘Why’s this one special?’
‘She just is,’ I say, grabbing an almond croissant. I can’t eat doughnuts for breakfast. It’s simply wrong. I’ve worked this much out about myself.
Max swivels his head and looks at me. ‘Ohhh.’
‘That’s not what I mean. I’m recommending her … as part of the recommend-a-friend scheme.’
‘All right,’ he replies, turning back to the doughnuts. ‘I’ll go and look for her in my inbox. What’s her last name?’
‘No idea.’
‘You know her well, then …? This friend you’re trying to get me to hire?’
Ah, shit.
Max smiles to himself, reaches forward for a glazed doughnut.
‘How do you know her?’ he probes.
‘We met at a wedding when I was back in England and she’s keen to get into design. I think she’d be good for the job. But I’m not begging for her to get the job, I’m just letting you know that if she sends a CV – résumé – which I assume she has done by now, that I referred her and … well, that’s kind of it.’
I can see Max digging around in his mind, trying to find a way to ask me more about why I want Lexie to be considered, while also trying to stay within the realms of what’s allowed to be discussed in the workplace.
I cut him off before he can get any further. ‘Thanks, Max, enjoy your doughnut.’ And I make a swift exit back to my desk.