“No. I don’t. But I’ve recently bought a house …”
“Okay. I understand. You need a bit of time to think it through. I’m sure you’ll find, once you’ve given it some thought, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. How about I leave it with you for a few days?”
“That would be great.”
“We’re not talking to anyone else. We’ve been watching you for a while now. Before you even came back to Sydney. Parachute beat us to the punch. You’re the one we want. That said, if you’re going to say no, we need to start putting out feelers, so if you could get back to us sooner rather than later, we’d appreciate it, Josh.”
We shoot the shit through one more drink, then part ways, agreeing to talk again within the week.
I arrive home at Will’s place not long after he does and find him pouring himself a large whisky. He holds the bottle up questioningly.
“Yeah. Thanks. A drink is exactly what I need.” Another one. Or ten. Until the pain in my chest goes away. Maybe I’m having a heart attack. A prolonged one. Days and days of a heart attack. Which is also causing me to become a drama llama.
I dressed to impress for the interview, and the tie and business shoes are pinching in more ways than one. I toe off my shoes, rip off my tie, and shrug out of my suit jacket as I fall into one of the cushy chairs facing the view.
“You look like shit,” Will says as he hands me the drink. I wish I could talk to him about Greer, but that’s not possible. What I can talk to him about, though, is the job offer.
“Thanks. I feel like shit. That’s been run over by a fully loaded garbage truck. Then rained on. Nice of you to notice.”
Will snorts. “Right. Well, tell Uncle William all about it, then.”
“I’ve been offered a job.”
“Well, congratulations.” Then he looks at my face. “Or not?”
“Exactly. It’s an amazing job. Executive Creative Director of the Asia-Pacific Region. Huge package. Half-a-dozen creative directors working under me. Lots of travel. High profile clients.”
“But?”
“It’s in Melbourne.”
Will’s face falls a little. “Well, that’s not so bad. I mean, Melbourne’s no Sydney, obviously, but it’s only an hour away by plane. Not like London or New York.”
“Yeah. But I came home for a reason, Wee. I bought the house for a reason. It’s time to settle down. Grow some roots.”
“You mean like get married roots?” He looks vaguely horrified.
I sigh. If only. Wait. What? That’s the first time I’ve ever thought longingly about marriage. No prizes for guessing why. Better put that in the pro’s column for taking this job. Then again, maybe it also belongs in the con’s column. I don’t even know anymore.
“No. Not marriage.” I can’t admit to my thoughts because then I’d have to tell him who I might or might not wish I could marry. And there is nobody else. “But settling in the one place, having a life outside work, spending time with friends, you know? And then there’s Ty. If I bail now, who’s going to watch out for him? Not Dad or Cristal, that’s for sure.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I was thinking, soon I might set up my own agency. Be my own boss. Do things my way.”
“And now there’s this opportunity, and it’s too good to ignore?”
“Yeah. Maybe. But is it?”
“Well, I guess it depends on what you really want. Only you can decide that. If being away from home was getting old, it doesn’t seem like moving to Melbourne and taking a job with lots of travel is going to make you happy.”
He’s right. It probably won’t. On the other hand, not having to see Greer every day has a certain self-flagellating appeal.
“Thanks, man. I’ve got a lot to think about, I guess.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” Will’s gaze is uncharacteristically sharp. He’s been doing that a lot lately. If I didn’t know better, I might think he suspected something. But Will is nothing if not straightforward. If he had something to say, he’d say it.
“Nah. That’s it. Apart from bullshit in the office.”
