“I will. And please.” He hoped he didn’t sound too desperate, but he needed to impress upon her the importance of him getting back into a firm. “If anything comes up in the financial sector you think I might be interested in, please let me know.”
“I will.”
The call ended, and he sat for a moment, staring into space. He needed to make the best of the situation until he could figure out his next step, and that meant only one thing.
He picked up the phone and called the number Ruth gave him and spoke to a man named Kyle.
“With your credentials, I’m sure you’re more than qualified. Come in now, and we’ll have you start.”
He hung up the phone, resolute.
Okay, Blake. You got the job. Now show ’em what you got.
****
He hadn’t beenon the Long Island Railroad in years, but the trip wasn’t too bad. At least that was what he told himself, sipping on his coffee, watching the scenery flash by. The walk from the station in Great Neck to the street where the storefront office was located proved quick, and Blake took note of his surroundings as he stood waiting on the corner. A diner, a gym, and of course a Starbucks caught his eye right away.
The light changed, and he hurried across, the chilly air nipping at his cheeks and nose. No hoards of people jostling him on the sidewalk or taxis beeping, anxious to make the light. Instead, window shoppers sauntered past, stopping to chat with each other, and he found himself circling baby carriages several times on the sidewalk. A whole different world.
Anxious to get inside, Blake didn’t bother to peek through the window and pushed his way into the storefront tax preparer office, welcoming the heat. There were six cubicles with four occupied. Curious looks greeted him.
“Uh, hi. I’m Blake Myers. I’m supposed to meet Kyle Winters.” He glanced down at his phone to make sure of the name.
Only one person stood to greet him, an older man who gave him a welcoming smile. “I’m Oscar. Kyle isn’t here right now. Maybe I can help?”
“Well, I’m supposed to start work today. Kyle said I should come in.”
“Oh, yes.” Oscar’s face lit up, and his smile beamed brightly. “We’re so glad to see you. Right, everyone?”
He turned to include the three other people in the office. One gave a half smile, another a fleeting twist of his lips Blake preferred to think of as a smile rather than the hostile sneer it came across as. Only the third person, a lanky Asian man, gave him a true full-blown greeting that lit up his face.
“Hey, welcome aboard. We’re really busy here, so I’m thrilled to see you. My name’s George.” He walked over and stuck out his hand.
“Hi,” He extended his hand to shake George’s. “Blake. I’m all for keeping busy. My old job had me running from morning to night, so I’m anxious to get back in the swing after being out of work for a while.”
Oscar pointed at a cubicle in between his and the one George had been sitting in. “That’ll be yours.” Blake settled in, and both George and Oscar hitched their chairs closer to his. “Where did you work before?” Apparently they weren’t too busy to chat, especially when the boss was away.
The two other people who’d yet to introduce themselves gazed at him expectantly, all pretense of work put aside.
“Shipman and York. It’s a boutique accounting firm, specializing in financial companies and—”
“I know it.” The woman several seats down cut him off. “I interviewed there a few years ago but knew I wasn’t going to get the job as soon as I walked in. I wasn’t the right ‘fit.’” Her fingers made quotation marks in the air.
Sensing her hostility, Blake asked, “What do you mean? S&Y has plenty of female accountants and several partners are women.”
Ignoring his answer, she narrowed her eyes at him, and he tensed, knowing what was coming.
“What are you doing here if you worked in a place like that? Did you get fired?”
Before he could stammer out an answer, his new friend George rushed in. “Jesus, Lucy. Blake just got here. Give him a chance to settle in before you interrogate him.”
“It’s a fair question.” Blake thanked George with a smile, then faced Lucy’s antagonistic stare. “I was let go. My interpretation of a client’s financial reporting disagreed with the client’s and my supervisor’s so…” He shrugged and let it go at that, hoping they would understand what he triednotto say.
“So you got fired.” A self-satisfied expression settled on her face. “Let go, fired…it’s all the same.” Her hands waved in the air. “And now you’re here in a crappy tax preparer office, which means no other firm wants to touch you. So you’re no different than the rest of us slugs here in the trenches, working with the people making an honest living instead of the people figuring out how to deduct their kids’ college tuition as a business expense or hedge fund assholes hiding their cash in offshore accounts.”
Her words hit close to home, but he kept his face neutral, sensing having Lucy as an enemy was a mistake he could ill afford to make.
“I totally agree. And like I said, I’m not afraid to work hard.”
