Shattering - 6. Chapter 6 - Misapprehension

I awoke, surrounded by warmth. His arm was around my waist and I could feel his breath faintly on the back of my neck. Opening my eyes, I couldn’t help but smile at the soft glow of the sunlight coming through the window.

“Hey,” he murmured, the hand at my waist sliding gently up my abs to my chest to stroke through the light patch of hair between my pecs.

I turned in his embrace and gazed into his smiling chestnut-brown eyes. He leaned in towards me and I closed my eyes and-

I shot up awake as the alarm clock blared on the bedside table. I frowned at it and smashed the off button. I turned back around to face Mike, but he wasn’t there. His half of the bed was was cold and empty. I had been dreaming. I heard a car door shut and engine start. I got up rushed into the guest room. Looking out the windows down towards the road, I watched Mike speed off in the car, headed to the gym for his morning workout. He’d shower there and then head into work. I sighed. Maybe I should be grateful that he’s been leaving me to sleep in on the days where my sleep has been erratic, but I really could have gone for a kiss and some reassurances this morning. The bed in here was a mess, clearly slept in but not comfortably. I wondered for half a second whether I should make it, but decided against it. I had other priorities today.

I changed into a t-shirt and track pants, then headed downstairs and prepped myself a lemon-lime sports drink in my Camelbak from the concentrate bottles Mike liked to keep around, and then did some stretches. It was time for a run. The endorphins would wake me up, and the movement and breathing would help me throw off the grogginess, the endless worries and the negative thoughts. I wasn’t going to be having any caffeine until the interview was over with because I just knew it would feed into the possibility of another anxiety attack. That was something I could not afford today.

I put in my earbuds and plugged them into my phone, turned on my GPS and opened up my fitness app. I knew the route I was taking by heart, but it was always good to get feedback on my pacing while running. With that, I turned on some electronica running tracks to help me keep my breathing even with the beat and set off down the steps of the house and off into the street.

I liked running at different times of day for different reasons. Early in the morning like this, the traffic wasn’t too heavy so I didn’t have much to worry about crossing streets unless they were major arteries. Back in college I’d always preferred running in the evening after my dinner had settled, but once my working life started I was usually a bit too fried to do much other than zone out watching hockey or something else on the TV, a movie on Netflix, or perhaps a book. Mike was the same way, although he preferred his graphic novels and video games to my books if there wasn’t anything on TV that he wanted to watch. Since he was just as pooched after dinner time as I was, we both started doing our fitness stuff in the mornings. I’d let my gym membership lapse in favour of the weights we had a home once I lost my job, but kept up my running. Maybe I should have kept going with Mike. That gym was okay for my own commute into work on public transit, but getting back to the house from there was a pain without a car. But maybe if I start going with him again, that will be another way we can spend some time together. Besides, watching Mike lift is… well, it can be a bit distracting sometimes, in all the right ways.

As I was passing by Vicky’s house, I smiled when I noticed Mark’s car parked in the driveway. For him to be there this early in the morning meant he had stayed overnight again. I tried to keep my mind away from the conversation we had a little over a week ago, but I couldn’t. I’d managed to corner Mike that very night over dinner; he had come home on time, after all, and we both enjoyed the steaks. I asked him about whether he was in fact happier since our talk after he missed dinner with his brother. He admitted that he was playing it up a little, but he did feel like we were at least more on the same wavelength. I asked him whether or not he thought things were slipping back into how they were before our first talk and he just went quiet, bit his lip and nodded. I told him that I understood things were hard at work right now, and that it was his decision how much or how little time he spends on it so long as he makes sure we have one day a week and one or two evenings that we can spend together as a couple. He gave me this aching smile and told me that he wanted that too. I started to bring up the possibility of a move, but he just shook his head and said it was a bit premature to be considering it since I’d just got an interview for a job downtown and half the reason we were living here in the first place was to be between both our jobs. He was right about that. We hadn’t managed to talk about how things were at all since that day because he’s worked sixteen hour days pretty much every day since. He’s only really been home to sleep, and I hate that. I hate seeing what it is doing to him. This was supposed to be his dream job, yet I can’t help but wonder if it is what he expected it would be.

When I was almost home, I had to stop and wait for a traffic light to change at Royal York. Jogging on the spot, I tried to force those thoughts from my mind by sheer willpower. That stuff wasn’t important, not today. I need to focus on what’s going to be happening in a few hours and be ready. Just as I was coming back up the front steps of our house an hour later, my phone started to ring. My face burst into a smile.

“Brady!”

“Hey Big D!”

I laughed. His nickname for me had started as a poor, drunken joke about the size of my dick, but for some reason it stuck.

“How are you?”

“Tired, man,” he joked as I heard him try to stifle a yawn.

I shook my head, unlocking the door to the house and stepping inside. “You didn’t have to call me so early in the morning. I bet the sun hasn’t even risen yet in Vancouver.”

“It hasn’t, David, but I totally did need to call you. I’m sorry I didn’t return your call on the weekend right away, but I’m glad you sent me the email update about the job. I wasn’t sure when your interview was today, but I needed to make sure I got through beforehand in case it was early this morning. If I know you, you are probably already over-thinking things trying to keep a lid on an anxiety attack in the making. I bet you need a pep talk.”

I laughed softly, kicked my shoes off and headed for the kitchen to refill my water. “Yeah, you know me too well. The interview isn’t until early this afternoon, though.”

“Yeah? Oh well. Better now, I guess, than me trying to squeeze it in while my boss isn’t looking later today. So how are you feeling about this?”

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Pretty mixed, to tell you the truth. There is part of me that is completely confident that I have this in the bag. I mean, they told most of us that they let go that we would be offered our positions back when things turned around, so I guess this is what’s happening. The HR person I was in contact with mentioned dealing with sorting out a schedule, as if there were more interviews than the number of positions they are hiring for. The pessimistic part of me thinks they are interviewing other people for this position and I’m going to need to nail this interview or I could lose out to someone younger and less experienced that they can get away with paying a good chunk less than they were paying me before I was let go.”

“That’s always a possibility with any job if it is being hired externally. They want to get what they consider to be the best bang for their buck.”

I slumped down onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar, leaning onto the counter. “My point exactly.” I took a large gulp of water.

“But you also said that they were the ones who called you, David. They know you and they know your work. If they didn’t like it they wouldn’t have been giving you contracts all this time, right?”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

I tried to listen as Brady started giving me his best effort at boosting my confidence. He was an expert at this sort of thing, having spent years volunteering as a coach with the Special Olympics and working with a lot of kids with self-confidence issues. My mind was wandering, though. I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am to have Brady in my corner. What other kind of person would get up super early just to help me get this difficult day started off on the right foot? That was the least of what we’d do for one another, really. I’d take a bullet for him.

Brady and I lived together for nine years, starting in our first year at Humber College. When I turned around after hearing a knock on the door when I first moved into my dorm, my heart stopped. My worst fear going into college had been realized - one of my roommates was devastatingly hot. That chocolate skin, those full lips, those shining eyes, and the muscles bulging under his basketball shirt… I was scared shitless. Worse, I shared a wall and a bathroom with him in our 4-bedroom 2-bath suite. Here he was, this perfect specimen standing in front of me talking away and smiling, a little sweat on his arms and forehead from moving his stuff in, and all I could do was nod along and smile. After a few minutes he suddenly stopped midsentence with his eyes on my bed, and then half-frowned as he studied me for a second. I started to panic when I realized he saw the latest copy of the local LGBTQ publication the Daily X-tra sitting on my bed next to some books. It was something I’d been excited to read, only having seen it online a few times before that back in the middle of nowhere in Dryden. I was in Toronto now, a city with a thriving queer community and one where I could finally be myself and find a boyfriend and live happily ever after, but here I was in a college dorm about to live with three other guys that I didn’t know and-

At that moment Brady gave me this soft reassuring smile, clapped a hand gently on my shoulder and said that this dorm suite was a judgement free zone and he hoped we’d be good friends. I know a couple tears slid down my cheeks and I thanked him and echoed his hopes. We came to be close friends very quickly. He was so unlike the people I’d grown up with in Dryden. Well, so many of the people I met in college were, but Brady and I just fit together somehow. I could lie and say that my feelings for him were always completely platonic, but that is something best left alone. Brady helped me transform my body from the pasty, thin waif I was when I arrived at school to the more lithe and toned frame I have now coaching me through time in the gym. To my ongoing surprise, he also fostered in me an actual enjoyment of sports - something I’d always hated growing up. He helped me to open up to people I never would have tried to befriend back in my high school days. And perhaps the thing I’m most grateful for, Brady helped me get through the worst of the troubles with my anxiety disorder at the end of first year and through our second year, and has always known the right things to say, the right times to get me doing things, the right times to give me some space…

“Okay, D, you need to stop spinning your wheels on the pavement and start listening again. I can smell the smoke from the burning rubber all the way over here in Vancouver.”

I shook my head, smiling. “Sorry Brady.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I know I can get all rambly with the positivity sometimes. You put up with it way better than most people do.”

“Maybe that’s because I know how right you are.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes, maybe.”

“Most of the time,” I insisted.

“How you doing with the shakes?”

I took a deep breath. He was talking about my anxiety, the physical symptoms. “I’m okay right now. Just starting to get that feeling like I need to do something, anything. No tightness in the chest or real shakiness yet. I should be okay.”

“Hmm… you got any of your meds left?”

“I haven’t needed them in so long that I threw them out. They would be expired now, anyway.”

“Damn. You gonna make one of those herbal concoctions you learned about instead? Think that will help? The one with the passionflower and… was it chamomile?”

“Yeah, and lemon balm too. I hadn’t thought of doing that, actually, but I do have the stuff so I’ll make up a big one to drink. Thanks.”

“No problem, D.” I heard Brady yawn again, this time unable to cover it up.

“Brady, dude, go back to bed.”

“Alright, brotha, I guess I can try to get another hour of zzz’s in before I go into work. I’m here for you, D, you know that right?”

“Yeah, Brady, I know…” I murmured, my throat tightening as I fought back tears. He wanted to be there for me and he was to an extent, but it wasn’t like it used to be. It wasn’t enough, not without having him here in Toronto where I could just call him up and we could go hang out somewhere. Where I could get a hug if I needed one. Brady was slipping away from me, and there was nothing I could do. I hated that, feeling so needy about him to the point where I sorta-kinda (read: completely) hated his girlfriend for taking Brady away from me. That and she was a snotty bitch who wasn’t right for him. But Brady also wasn’t Mike, the one I should be relying on most for these things. The one I should be able to rely on for these things.

“Okay, big guy. Let’s set up some Skype time for next week, maybe on Wednesday since I have the day off to do some errands and a doctor visit.”

“Doctor? Shit, Brady! What’s up?!”

“Calm down, D,” he laughed. “It’s just a yearly physical. Nothing special.”

“Don’t scare me like that, asshole!”

“D, lighten up. I didn’t think I phrased that in a way like… Well, that it would bring up things like what happened with your dad.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

My father was a proud man. Too proud, really. He had some aches and pains for a couple years that just wouldn’t go away. My mother and I kept insisting he go to the doctor, but he refused. When he finally did go, it ended up being too late. He had late-stage multiple myeloma, and it was everywhere. It was a cancer that is very treatable, albeit chronic, for a lot of people. Most people end up having five to ten years of life left before they succumb. Not my dad, though. They tried, they really tried, but he waited far too long. We thought his treatments were going well, but at some stage things just went downhill all too quickly. He died before I could even get off the ground at Pearson to fly in to Dryden. I never got to say goodbye and to tell him I loved him, something I’d not said to him since he shunned me after I came out in high school. I shunned him right back, barely speaking more than a word to him when I came to visit my mother over holidays. I always felt guilty, putting my mother in the middle of it, but what else was I supposed to do? He was stubborn as fuck and set in his small-town, small-minded attitudes. I was the one that was a disgrace. He wouldn’t come around unless he chose to do it himself. It took a decade for our relationship to thaw, but that was after my mother couldn’t stand it anymore and shoved in his face a bunch of materials about how being gay is biological, not a choice, and perfectly normal, and a helluva lot of other things. She told him he’d better read it and read it well, and if he didn’t learn anything then she’d be seeing him in court at their divorce proceedings.

Well, he read it all. He read even more stuff, from the library in town and from the internet. Still, even after that our relationship was strained. He was able to say he was proud of my work. He liked Mike, and would chat about sports with him endlessly until my mother and I would get so annoyed we’d demand they shut up. But there was always that undercurrent of tension, something we were never able to resolve. My mother told me after he passed that he didn’t know how to resolve it, that he thought he’d hurt me too badly for me to ever really forgive him. All we'd needed to do was sit down and talk about it for once, to make our deepest feelings known to one another. Maybe, maybe then the healing process would have finished.

“It’s still pretty raw, isn’t it?” Brady asked after a pause.

“I know it shouldn’t be after all this time, but… well, what can I say?”

“That your dad was important to you, that you loved him, and that you wish you’d had more time to spend with him and tell him that.”

A few tears slipped down my face. “Yeah… okay, this isn’t the time for this discussion. I’ve got an interview to prep for and you’ve got some sleep to get back to or you’ll ruin your day.”

“Alright, D. Talking to you will never ruin my day. You are going to slay this interview, I know it. Be proud of yourself and show those bitches just who they are dealing with.”

We both laughed. “I will. Thanks again, Brady. I can’t wait to talk some more on Wednesday.”

“Me either, D. Make sure you have something ready to drink, because we are going to be celebrating your new job!”

"I definitely will!"

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot, Divya says hi."

Bullshit. Why the fuck is he lying for her?

"Oh she did? Tell her I said hi, too," I said, trying not to let any sarcasm drip into my voice.

We said our goodbyes and I drank another tall glass of water. I headed upstairs to take a shower and rinse of the sweat and grime. It was so good to be under the warm spray, lathering my body. When I started to work on my groin, my dick decided that it hadn’t received enough attention over the last couple days. When was the last day Mike and I had sex, anyway? I shook my head. It was only six days ago, but it felt like forever. Well, I was supposed to be finding things to keep me relaxed, so why not indulge a bit?

I started to jerk off, slowly, sensually. I leaned against the tiled wall, teasing my hole with one hand while working myself over with the other. I imagined Mike with me, his strong arms around me… my ex-boyfriend Adam, on his knees, choking on my dick… Brady smirking at me while we jerked off to some porn… my ex-boyfriend Kyle pinching my nipples, hands running over my arms… Mike, pulling me tight against him, nibbling at my shoulders and the base of my neck… Mike, rubbing his cock up and down my crack, catching on my hole… Rain, pushing in and fucking me… and Mike… and Rain… and… Mark... and... Rain... and Mike... and...

Oh, fuck!

I came hard, splattering all over the wall. I sank to my knees breathing heavily. Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve… since I’ve had so many people, so many faces in a jerk-off fantasy. And my ex’s and Brady? Mark and Rain? Sigh. Whatever.

I stood up, rinsing off myself and the wall and then got out of the shower. There were times when Brady and I maybe got a little too close. That stuff happened long after I’d moved past my little crush that I knew was going nowhere in the middle of our first year. It was nothing really, nothing to write home about. Just watching some porn together and jerking off, and that one time where we were really drunk and a bit high and we ended up naked on his bed watching porn again. This time, though, we jerked one another off. And kissed. That one, long, passionate kiss. I never came harder than I did that night until I met Mike. So I guess Brady is a touch heteroflexible in the end, but not enough for our relationship to have ever transitioned into something else. To be honest, I’m thankful for that or I never would have given Mike a shot. I guess it was a testament to my closeness with Brady that it never got awkward between us in the wake of those incidents. We knew where one another stood. They only happened a handful of times in our nine years living together, at times when both of us were single and horny. Just friends helping each other out, I guess.

I went back downstairs and made up a double batch of passionflower, chamomile and lemon balm tea while I ate a large breakfast. Brady was right; these herbs are supposed to help with anxiety. They’ve helped me settle down in the past, but medication was definitely my only recourse when my anxiety disorder was at it’s worst in college. I drank half of it and put the rest of it in a to-go cup to have while I took the subway downtown for the interview.

I took some time to sit down and review the documents and mini-portfolio I’d forwarded to Laleh in preparation for the interview, and some other things I’d put together to bring along with me today. I went over my answers to some questions that I’d come up with that I figured they would be asking me. They were questions I’d ask if I was hiring someone for this job. Soon enough, the alarm on my phone went off. I put on the professional outfit I’d chosen - classy, fashionable but not too formal - and then gathered up my things into a messenger bag and headed downtown.

I’d love to say that the tea helped keep me calm, but that would be a lie. It was lunchtime and the subway was busy. Every subway stop had my pulse increasing, my grip on the pole next to my seat increasing. The mob of people I had to navigate at the interchange onto the Spadina line made me start breathing heavily. I couldn’t sit as I went south to St. Patrick station, just standing there holding one of the overhead rails and breathing with my eyes closed. The short walk to the building Globestar was in helped a bit, the fresh air and the sun reducing the pressure in my chest and slowing my heartbeat if only a little. I was skipping lunch because if I ate anything now I’d probably throw up.

I walked in through that all-too-familiar entryway and after nodding to the guys at the security desk I headed straight to the elevators. The elevator doors opened, releasing a flood of people. I had a stunned bunny moment suddenly and didn’t move, even though I was directly blocking their path. It was not appreciated, judging from the frowns and muttered curses. At least there wasn’t anyone I knew. Not anyone I recognized, anyway. Clutching my messenger bag tighter, I boarded the empty elevator. The doors closed, and instead of going up like I expected, the elevator proceeded to go down to the parking levels.

Really David? Really?! You are so worked up that you can’t even notice something as basic as what direction the elevator is travelling before you get on? I swallowed the urge to kick the elevator door and tried to calm down. It’s just a fucking job interview, and one for the equivalent of my old job at that. This is Globestar for Christ’s sake. They know me and know what I can do. I already have it in the bag, no questions asked. But still, if I fuck this up it will be beyond humiliating. How could I ever look the people I used to work with here in the eye again?

I took a deep breath and pressed the button for the 19th floor again once the elevator had picked up a few passengers from below. Standing at the back of the elevator, I closed my eyes and took deep even breaths as people got on and off the lift. I counted them, paying close attention to how my body felt, the feelings and noises and smells and sounds of the elevator. I noted all of these things, trying to observe them but in a detached way. A quick mindfulness meditation while I still had the time. I could feel myself calming down a little, thank God. I might be anxious, but I can’t let it get to me. I can’t let it go unchecked. I can do this. I’m good enough. I’m strong enough. I’m the guy they want.

Somehow I managed to avoid anyone entering the elevator on the way up, and when it pinged and announced I was on the 19th floor, I took a deep breath, opened my eyes and walked out onto the floor. I walked out, and then realized my meeting with HR was actually up on the 22nd floor and I’d need to check in with Marilyn, the main receptionist, up there anyway. The 19th floor was where my own work station used to be. Goddamn it! I turned hurriedly, shoving my arm into the closing elevator. The door slammed my arm but thankfully opened back up, the machine beeping at me annoyedly.

Finally arriving up at the 22nd floor, I greeted Marilyn. She came out from behind my desk and gave me a big hug.

“David! It’s so good to see you. What brings you in today?”

I smiled. “I have an interview. I might be back in my old job very soon.”

“Oh that’s wonderful, dear. We’ve missed you a lot around here. So you are seeing HR then? Who’s been your contact?”

“Laleh told me to have you call her when I got in. I’m about fifteen minutes early, so I apologize if she’s busy right now.”

“I’m sure that’s fine, David. Better early than late!”

Marilyn made the quick call and smiled as she hung up. “Just head on in, David. They will meet you in the conference room by Shane’s office. Best of luck!”

I thanked Marilyn and then headed into the inner sanctum of Globestar’s operations. I’d never felt uncomfortable up here before, but my anxious steps only filled me with trepidation today. I said a quick hello to a few people on my way over to the conference room. The door was open and no one was inside. There was no bench to sit on. I wasn’t sure whether I should stand there listlessly in the hallway or not. I didn’t know what would seem more rude. I decided to head into the room. I dropped my messenger bag beside the single chair on one side of the large table, and took a few deep breaths. I paced a couple times and then wandered over to the window. Placing my hands onto the sill I started an even breathing exercise, closing my eyes and counting my breaths as they came and went. My heart rate slowed down a bit and my thoughts were no longer rushing through my mind quite so quickly.

“Ah, David! Welcome!”

I turned around. Laleh and Alec had entered the room. I came over and shook both of their hands confidently. Well, as confidently as I could muster. I think I did a good job and wasn’t trembling too much.

We sat down at the table. We started with some basic pleasantries, and then they started in on the meat of the interview. We briefly discussed my education and work before coming to Globestar, and then the work I did here both as a salaried employee and a contractor. We went through some of my portfolio and discussed my chosen references and my perspectives on how I fit in with my former colleagues both here at Globestar and at my former workplaces. As the questioning went on, things started to befuddle me a bit. They started asking me about things I liked in the workflow in the graphic design department, and if I had any thoughts on tweaking it. They asked me my thoughts on what I thought were some of my former colleague’s strong points, and where I thought they would fit in working on a number of hypothetical projects. I was getting more and more bewildered, and I’m sure I must have started looking like a fool even though I was answering things to the best of my abilities. Fuck, what was going on? I’m not going to get this job, am I? They don’t want me for this job!

After I finished answering another one of these difficult questions Alec leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, tenting his fingers. “Look David, let’s cut to the chase. I don’t want to waste any more of our time playing cat and mouse with all these hypotheticals when we already have another candidate in mind for this position.”

My jaw hung loose, and then my stomach clenched violently. Someone else. They already had someone else. Why the fuck was I here if they-

Alec was smirking from behind his fingers, and Laleh couldn’t seem to quite contain quiet laughter from behind the manila file folder she was holding up to hide her mouth. I could feel the heat building behind my eyes. They didn’t just have someone else in mind, they were fucking making fun of me. I swallowed hard and shot up out of my seat. I shot them a glare, shaking my head and turned for the door. I didn’t trust myself to say anything, because if I did they would be words I’d regret if I ever needed a reference from these bastards. I stalked out of the room, shutting the door behind me not quite hard enough for it to slam, but goddamn it I really wished it had.

Victoria was standing there just down the hall. She looked excited, but her expression fell into one of confusion. I shook my head as I trudged over to her. I tried to keep in control, I really did, but I couldn’t help but let a few tears of humiliation escape. I opened my mouth to speak, but there was a rush of movement behind me.

“David, David! Wait!” Alec called urgently, his hand latching onto my shoulder.

“Get your hands off me, asshole!” I shouted, as I spun quickly to face him. He recoiled back, a look of shock on his face. “You think it’s funny, so goddamned funny to call me in here, dangling the carrot of having my old job back, make me go through this song and dance interview, and then you tell me you have someone else in mind? You tell me that, and then just laugh in my fucking face? How dare you!”

“David, that’s not-”

“No, you can go to hell, Alec! If this is how Globestar treats people now, I want nothing to do with this goddamned company. I’m never working for you bastards again, in any capacity. You all can take all the contract work I’ve been doing for you people and shove it up your ass!”

“David, you need to calm down,” Victoria urged me worriedly. I turned to look at her. She knew something. She had to have known something. I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe that she wouldn’t have told me anything about this! I clenched my teeth and was about to give her a piece of mind, I don’t care if she-

“You didn’t let me finish what I was saying, David! We have someone else in mind for the designer position because we are offering you a better job!”

I froze.

“Please, David, come back into the conference room so we can talk this over,” Alec pleaded.

Victoria nodded at me calmly, silently urging me to pacify. I turned to face Alec. He had a look of horrified remorse written on his face. Behind him at the door, Laleh looked similarly stricken. I wiped a hand over my face and took a deep breath. And another. And another. I opened my eyes and looked at them and nodded. I followed Laleh back into the room, my strides stiff as I clenched and released my fists. Alec shut the door behind me and we sat back down. Fuck, I’d even forgotten my messenger bag on the floor in my haste to get out of here moments ago.

“David, I can’t even begin to apologize enough for giving you the impression that we… What we wanted to say, it was just supposed to be a pleasant surprise. I don’t even know what to say, other than that we are so very sorry.”

I let a long breath out and shook my head. “Just tell me what you meant to say, and then I’ll be the judge of whether or not you deserve to be forgiven.”

Alec swallowed, looking even more contrite. “David, we aren’t offering you your old job or, rather, Santosh’s former job because we would like you to supervise the department instead.”

Supervise? Supervise the department? As in, be the manager? Wait, Steve’s old…?

Let let out another breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Steve’s job. The asshole’s job. He was fired for what he did to Santosh and I, and now I could be taking over his job. Now that’s karma, you son of a bitch! I could feel the sides of my mouth beginning to curl up, but I tried to keep my face set in displeasure.

“We are more than confident you are capable of leading the graphics group, David,” Alec continued. “To be frank, your work has a record of excellence and everyone who has worked with you currently employed by this company respects you. If you were to take up this offer, all that really becomes added to your shoulders is choosing who works on which projects, approving both drafts and finalized products before they are shown to our clients, and of course some reporting to higher management. You’d still be working on some projects yourself, but now you have the luxury of choosing which ones you want to take part in or take on fully.”

“And what sort of compensation are we talking about?” I asked, trying my best to keep my tone neutral, even though my insides were starting to vibrate with excitement. Manager. They wanted me to be the fucking manager. Alec nodded to Laleh and she pulled a piece of paper out of the manila folder and slid it across the table to me face down. Swallowing, I picked it up and then promptly dropped it back to the table. $16 000. They’d be giving me a raise of $16 000 dollars over my old salary. I’d be making a touch over $87K. Holy fuck!

“So, is that a yes, Mr. Templeton?”

I opened my mouth to answer but nothing came out. I tried again, but then just settled for nodding vigorously. Eventually I calmed down enough to talk and we discussed some formalities and my return to work. I left the meeting all smiles, feeling confident and revitalized. They seemed to be happy with the outcome, but still embarrassed. And they fucking should be.

“David?”

Vicky was still waiting for me, bearing a look of worried anticipation. I smiled broadly, and her face lit up as she ran over and pulled me into a humongous hug.

“I knew it! I knew it! I knew they’d want to give it to you!”

“Oh, so you knew they wanted me to be manager, did you?”

“I had a feeling they were considering you, but nothing for certain. Laleh might have a big mouth sometimes, but she is pretty discreet about work stuff. She asked me and some of the others who’d worked with you for thoughts on your performance and laid it out as if it was for Santosh’s job, but she also asked some of the others a bit about whether they thought you had potential for greater responsibilities, like what they thought you could handle. And yeah, people talk. You know that. It just wasn’t Laleh.”

“Okay, I can respect that. We need to go talk somewhere else, though, if we are going to be discussing her and Alec or anything else related to HR and this whole interview process. I know for a fact that you want the full story of what went on in there to have me storming out of the middle of that interview.”

“Oh yeah, I want all the deets, mister. It just so happens that I took the rest of the afternoon off so that we could celebrate or figure out where I can find another job in protest if they didn’t hire you back,” she said, looking smug.

“Perfect! I could really use a drink right about now, and I know exactly where we are going!”

“Bar Volo?”

I laughed. “Yeah, for a start. Who knows where the afternoon will take us? And dinner with Mike, too! Oh my God, he’s going to be so happy! I’d better call and let him know.”

I pulled out my cell phone and speed dialed Mike. It went to voicemail. I hung up. “Damn it, he said he’d make sure he was able to talk around now,” I huffed.

Vicky rubbed my arm. “Just leave him a voicemail. I’m sure he’ll call you back as soon as he gets a chance.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, sighing. I wanted to share the news personally, though. I decided I’d leave him in suspense as I dialed again. “Hey babe, it’s me. Call me back as soon as you get this.” I sent him a verbatim text as well.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Vicky exclaimed and we headed out to the elevators.

It was a good day. Today was a good day, a day worth celebrating. I got the job. No, I got an even better job because I was worth it, and I’d damn well prove them right. With all that anxiety from earlier gone, I could feel my soul lifting, singing.

Yeah, it was a damn good day.