Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Note to self: find a new apartment ASAP. When I tell him, it’ll go easier if I already have a place to live. Less chance of him trying to move me into my old bedroom.
He would never understand this temporary arrangement, so it’s best if I don’t try to explain it to him. It won’t matter to him that I live in an entirely different wing of the house. I’m staying under the roof of a man closer to his age than mine, and Tatum’s in Europe, so we don’t have a chaperone or whatever. His brain might explode if he finds out.
So he can’t. Ever.
The clock is ticking, so I hurry out of the car and into the building, pep-talking myself the entire time. Out of the elevator pours a group of people around my age, probably on their way to lunch at one of the cafes peppering the business district.
I’ll be one of them soon.
I feel nothing but boredom at the idea. No exhilaration, no eagerness to get started. Shake it off, damn it.
Once I reach the tenth floor, I step up to the desk across from the elevator doors. “I’m here to see Eric Adams. We have a twelve-thirty appointment.”
Once the perky girl behind the desk announces me through her headset and offers me a seat while I wait, I take a slow look around the open, sunny reception area. People walk past, carrying folders and tablets. A couple of guys discuss last night’s baseball game while they wait for the elevator.
They’ll be my coworkers in a few days. I wonder if they ever question their choices. Everybody does, I guess, but we get through it. We honor our choices, and this was my choice. I need to follow through with it.
Twenty minutes later, sitting in Eric Adams’ office—the largest corner office on the floor, even nicer than Callum’s office at home—I have to grind my teeth together to smile through the anecdotes about recent studies and reports by the firm’s managerial team.
“You need to have a sharp eye and a quick mind,” he points out over his loaded salad. “But you’ve proven you possess both. I truly think you’re going to do great things here. And certainly, you’ll have all the support you need to fulfill your potential. That’s one thing we pride ourselves on.”
It’s when he slides a thick folder full of benefits details my way that I see he’s not kidding around. I already knew the firm had a great benefits package, or else I wouldn’t have accepted the job. That was another reason I knew I’d be an idiot not to snap up the chance.
Now, with everything in front of me in black and white, I could kick myself for the vague sense of disappointment still clinging like a cheap perfume.
“As you can see, we offer four weeks paid vacation, a minimum of one week of sick time with an additional day for every six months employment. Your medical insurance is fully covered from day one. We offer 401K matching, as well as a profit-sharing program once you’ve reached three years with us.”
“This is really impressive.” I flip through, scanning the pages, before coming to the section on maternity leave.
He notices and clears his throat. “Somewhere down the line, that might be of interest to you. Then again, what do I know?” His laughter is friendly, if awkward, as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He seems like a nice, middle-aged man, if socially clueless. But it’s not like we have to be best friends or anything like that.
“Six months paid leave?” It sounds too good to be true.
“And you can use your vacation time along with that to extend it.” He shrugs at my surprise. “We offer onsite daycare, too. We have a tuition reimbursement program if you want to continue your education. The sky’s the limit. We believe in taking care of our people.”
I’m too overwhelmed to do much more than laugh. “I can see that.”
And I’m a complete moron. I’m sitting here with a job most people would kill for. I won’t have to worry about anything. The pay is great. I could get my master’s on their dime. And when the time comes to start a family, I’ll have their support.
Do I want to sign the contract? Not really.
I’m supposed to be mature and always level-headed. But the stories he tells about analyzing numbers on a spreadsheet bore the hell out of me. If he didn’t seem so excited by them, I might not care as much. There must be something wrong with me if I can’t see what makes this job so interesting.
Maybe there’s something I’m not getting yet. Maybe I need to get started before seeing what makes it special. If not, it’ll be a matter of adjusting my attitude.