I Owe You One: A Novel(39)

“I know it’s big,” I say quickly. “I mean, it’s really big. But I thought … maybe we can help each other? I overheard you talking in the coffee shop, saying that you couldn’t find the right person to fill a junior position. You need someone dynamic, who’s been in the real world, who doesn’t mind working hard, someone who wants to learn, someone who isn’t the typical graduate … someone different.”

As I’m talking, I can see his expression changing from wary to eager. He leans forward, gazing at me as though for the first time.

“Yes,” he says emphatically, as I come to a finish. “Yes. Yes! And I’m sorry I reacted the way I did—because what am I thinking? You’d be a perfect fit for us! I’ve already seen how you react in a crisis. I’ve seen how quick and forward-thinking you are. You’re bright, you’re positive, you’re honest.…” His gaze flashes toward the vases, then glints teasingly at me. “You clearly have great attention to detail.… Basically I can say, without any further ado, we’d love to have you on the team. We’ll need to talk about pay, of course.…”

My face is growing red. Shit. Shit. I need to stop this.

“Wait!” I cut off his surge of enthusiasm midstream. “No! That isn’t … I’m sorry. I should have … You don’t understand.” I rub my face awkwardly. “Sorry, this is my fault. I thought I’d said …”

“Said what?”

“It’s not for me. The job, I mean.”

“Not for you?” he says blankly. “But—”

“I’m claiming the job on behalf of someone else. A … a friend.” I clear my throat, trying to sound confident. “I’m transferring the debt.”

The light in his eyes has faded away. For a few moments he’s silent—then he says, “But I wanted to repay you, not someone else.”

“It will be repaying me! Honestly it will. I really want to do this person a favor.”

His gaze moves to the cardboard coffee-cup sleeve lying on the desk. Again I can see he’s thinking hard. “Does our agreement allow for transfer?” he says carefully.

“Why not?” I say robustly, because I anticipated he might say this. “Every other kind of debt can be passed on. There’s a market in debt, after all.”

“Maybe there is,” he says wryly. “That’s not necessarily a good thing.”

“Well, anyway. That’s … that’s what I’d like. Please.”

There’s silence. Seb’s eyes have darkened a few shades. He picks up a stapler and starts fiddling with it, as though trying to delay his decision.

“You want me to give a job to a total stranger,” he says at last.

“I’m a total stranger,” I counter. “And you were hiring me a moment ago, weren’t you?”

“You’re not a stranger! At least—” He stops himself mid-flow, as though confused by his own thoughts, and I suddenly wonder if he feels the same way I did in the coffee shop. I heard him talking on the phone and I thought, I get you. Maybe he thinks that about me.

I mean, some people are like that. You instantly relate to them. Whereas others you bash away at for years, but you’ll never understand them, not in a million years. (Uncle Ned.)

“So, who is it?” I can tell Seb’s trying to be positive and fair-minded. “Does she have any investment experience?”

“It’s not a she; it’s a he.”

“Ah.” Seb’s face changes again, in some infinitesimal way. “Well … does he?”

“No. But isn’t that the point? You said you want someone with experience of the world. Well, no one’s got more experience than Ryan! He’s started his own business, he’s battled his way through Hollywood—”

“Hollywood!” Seb sounds astonished.

“He tried to make it there as a producer, but he found it so dishonest. So slippery. He’d love to apply all his business principles to something more worthwhile—and what you do is worthwhile. I’ve seen you on YouTube,” I add. “It’s so inspiring, how you give all those company directors a hard time about their pay.”

“Well.” Seb shrugs. “It’s what I believe in.”

“And so does Ryan!” I say quickly. “He wants to make a difference to the world. Like you.”

I’m hoping I’ve said enough to persuade him, but Seb shakes his head.

“I’m afraid I’m having trouble processing this,” he says. “A Hollywood producer wants to take on a junior role at an ethical-investment firm? A low-salaried, unglamorous research role? Excuse my skepticism, but—”

“He’s not a Hollywood producer anymore,” I cut in bluntly. “He lost everything. He’s had a terrible time and he knows he needs to start again from the bottom, but he’s willing to work, to learn, to roll his sleeves up and get his hands dirty.… I mean, should he be punished because he tried and failed?” I lean forward, my voice rising passionately. “He’s so talented, he has so much to offer … but he feels washed up. Most people wouldn’t even give him a chance. But maybe you could be that person. You could change his life forever. And maybe that would be worthwhile too.”