Lucky for him, the refrigerated section with the food was in the front, so he didn’t have to go far inside the gym. The same young woman was behind the register as the previous days he’d come by. It was set up so that the prebottled shakes were in a refrigerator behind her and the customer would make their selection from the paper menus on the counter. In his mind, allowing the customer to pick out their own drinks and food, the way Jeremy had explained to him, was better for business. Blake knew visual and touch reactions were essential in food purchases. People liked to look ahead of time at what they planned to eat.
“Hey there, back again? You must love our shakes, huh?”
The perky blonde with the pink eyeshadow gave him a gummy white smile.
“Yeah.” He raised his voice over the pounding bass. “Can I have the green monster?”
“You got it.”
She handed him the bottle. “Anything else?”
“Do you have the hummus and vegetable cup?”
“Sure do.”
She rang him up, and he winced at the cost, knowing he’d have to stop spending money like that. He took his purchases and hurried back out of the gym, grateful to make it outside where all he had to contend with was traffic. A quick sprint across the street and Blake was back at his cubicle not fifteen minutes after he’d left. By lucky chance, no customers waited in the seating area; however, the other three tax preparers were all busy with people. Blake hung up his coat and suit jacket and sat down, hopeful he’d be able to finish his lunch without interruption.
He’d only had a chance to take one sip of juice before his phone rang. Recognizing the Caller ID number belonged to Kyle, Blake opened his hummus and answered it, figuring he could grab a bite while they talked.
“Could you come in here, please?”
“Sure. Be right in.”
He took a gulp from his juice, slipped on his suit jacket, and walked across the floor to Kyle’s office, feeling as if every step he took was being watched. If he had to guess, it would be Lucy since she had a penchant for sticking her nose into everyone’s business. Before entering, he knocked on Kyle’s door.
“Come in.”
From behind the mountain of files on his desk, Kyle tipped his head, indicating he should sit. Feeling almost like that time he’d been called into Scott’s office the morning he’d been let go, Blake quickly ran over his work and couldn’t find anything he’d done wrong.
“You’ve been here about a week now. How do you think it’s going?”
Nervous now, he shifted in his seat and gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “I think it’s going well. It’s taken me a bit of time to get used to the pace, but I think I have the hang of it now.”
“You think?”
Kyle’s question startled him, and it was then he realized Kyle wasn’t really asking him. Like that last confrontation with Scott, a message lay behind the words. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn’t move to wipe at it, preferring to concentrate on Kyle to try and read his expression and guess what might come next.
“I, uh, thought so, yes. I know I haven’t seen as many cli—I mean customers as the others, but it’s only been a week. I know I can speed up.”
“You think so?” Kyle repeated.
Dread snaked through Blake, but he forced himself to ignore it. “Absolutely. I’m enjoying the work and—”
“Okay, stop.” Kyle put up his hand, and Blake did as he ordered, staring at him, wondering why he’d never noticed the man’s sallow complexion or the way his dark brows formed an almost solid line across his forehead. “Don’t bullshit me. The work is dull and a grind. It’s fucking taxes…numbers. Boring and not sexy. Not like your old job. There are no rich clients with million-dollar balance sheets you can take to lunches. But let’s talk about the last customer you helped.”
Blake scrunched his face up, still in disbelief over Kyle’s irritation. “The woman with the baby? What about her? It was a straightforward return.”
“Exactly. One that should’ve taken you about half an hour, tops. Instead, you sat and became her personal counselor, taking over an hour, making phone calls that had absolutely nothing to do with her taxes.”
Was he kidding? Apparently not, from the slight sneer on his thin lips. “But I—”
“No.” Cutting him off with a wave of his hand, Kyle stared him down over the bridge of his nose. “It’s not our job to get involved in the customers’ lives. Your job is tax preparer, not social worker. All you’re supposed to do is plug in her numbers and do her return.”
Biting back what he really wanted to say, Blake forced himself to remain calm. “So you’re saying even though I know of ways to help her and make her life easier, I should do nothing.”
“No, not nothing. You do what you’re supposed to. What I hired you to do. Her tax return. Let her find out the way everyone else does about benefits.”
“Even if it could lower her tax bracket for next year and help her save money?”
