Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(32)
On the way over, the conversation between Grant and I mostly centered on my new job. I told him that I didn't want to tell him everything in the truck, because he'd just be bored at dinner, hearing everything twice. But honestly, it was because when I told him I would be traveling a few times a month, he didn't share my enthusiasm like I'd hoped.
I said, “I'm excited. I'll be going places I've never been. I'll be meeting so many awesome chefs.”
He only answered with, “Your hair looks different,” and kept looking at me oddly. It wasn't the most comfortable drive.
My mom, dad, and Shane met us there and were already at a table waiting when we arrived. Mom stood up to hug me when we approached the table on the restaurant’s outdoor dining deck. They knew I loved that place. It had decadent food and I loved eating outside. The weather was perfect for dinner on the patio.
I didn't miss the look my dad gave Grant or the slight head shake with which he returned it. My intuition said it had something to do with my ring finger, but I put it out of my mind.
“Blake, honey, tell us all about it.” My mom’s enthusiasm was exactly what I needed. Even Shane looked like he wanted to know all about my new job.
“Well, it's a growing business and I'll be working with the owners on big idea things. At first, I'll accompanying them to trade shows where other industry people will be, as well as potential clients, and I'll go with them when they work on projects to get the feel of what my position will be. If everything goes well, I'll start going to shows on my own. They said they'd eventually want me to take on entire projects.”
She quietly clapped her hands together in front of her mouth, like a thank you prayer, and smiled from ear to ear.
Shane said, “That sounds cool, so will you be cooking then, or what?”
“I'll do some cooking. Part of the job is revamping tired menus and coming up with new ones. So, there will be some cooking, but not like I was doing every day. It's more creative, and I love that,” I said answering him, and looking at my mom to show her that was the part I was most excited about.
“And I'll get to travel all over the place. They don't have many existing customers outside of the U.S., but there are some. I think they said mostly touristy locations like Jamaica, St. Bart’s, places like that. And they also have clients in Alaska, which I think is cool. Oh, and they have two offices, one here and one in San Francisco. So, I'll get to see Micah more. I'm so excited.”
“Wow. That's a lot of traveling. Take me with you,” my dad joked. “Your brother is already driving me nuts.”
“Phillip, he is not.” My dad grimaced from what I bet was a pretty firm kick under the table, compliments of my mother.
When I looked at Shane to see if he took the teasing well, he was scratching the side of his nose with his middle finger. No hurt feelings there.
We ordered every appetizer on the menu; it's how my family always ate dinner when we went out. I loved it. We talked about everything and shared. It was the only way to dine with your loved ones. I caught a few more loaded glances between my dad and Grant, but even Grant was laughing and seemed to enjoy himself.
Only Shane teased me about my new bangs, but I didn't care. I loved them, too.
Grant's phone rang quietly in his pocket. He looked at me apologetically, but said, “I'm sorry, Blake. It's probably the Jensens. They put in an offer and are probably calling to get an update.” It wasn't strange for him to get calls at dinner, or anytime really, and I understood that it was just part of his job.
“Don't worry about it. Take the call.” I gave him a sincere smile and he appeared grateful as he retrieved his cell and stood to excuse himself. He walked over by the edge of the outdoor dining area, closer to the pristine view of the water.
My dad threw his napkin at me and said, “I have an extra ticket to tomorrow's ballgame. Or are you working? Did you quit?”
“I'm talking to them tomorrow. So, I'll let you know about the game.” I wasn't looking forward to talking to my current employer, but it had to be done. At least if it didn't go well, my dad would get me drunk at the game.
Tuesday, June 24th, 2008
They let me go. Let's just say it wasn't a congratulatory goodbye.
“Well, congratulations,” my boss said shortly. Then he said, “Fuck,” and walked out.
I left with a small plastic bag containing the few personal belongings I'd had in the break room and at my station. I told a few people goodbye and then I left. I liked that job, but the feeling of new and exciting possibilities overshadowed any disappointment I may have felt.