“Speaking of…would it be possible to take a late lunch on Friday of this week? I found an apartment and I can sign the lease on Friday. Except the only appointment available is at 4:30. Otherwise, I would have to wait until the following Tuesday.”
“You found an apartment?”
“Yep.”
“If you’re not currently in an apartment, where are you living now?”
She hesitated for a second.
“I could look it up in your employee profile,” I told her. Proving I was both all-knowing and all powerful in her world.
She frowned. “I’ve been renting a motel room.”
“For how long?”
“Jesus,” she huffed. “What’s with the twenty questions all of a sudden?”
“I told you. I’m curious,” I said honestly.
Although it really didn’t make any sense to me either. She was right, I was crossing a line, breaking our rules, inviting curiosity on her part into my life, which I had no intention of satisfying.
What’s mine was mine. But what’s hers was mine. Unfair, of course. But I didn’t care about anything, least of all rules.
“But, why now? I’ve been here for over a month.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. You said some things. It made me-”
“Nosey?” she cut me off.
“Inquisitive,” I corrected. “I’m asking questions. There is nothing abnormal about any of this.”
“Oh yeah, you’re about as normal as a boss gets,” she snorted.
“I’m hearing sarcasm. Is that sarcasm?”
She huffed like a reluctant child. “I’ve been renting a motel room off and on since I got to Houston. It’s all part of the same story. I was in a state home in New Jersey. I aged out. I couldn’t find a job that covered expenses there. I heard there was work in the Houston area and the cost of living was cheaper. I came down here to check it out. With a high school diploma, there are only so many jobs available. I’m pretty sure I did all of them at one point. I could afford a room, but not enough to save for first and last months’ rent on an apartment. Until now. Happy?”
“Pretty much never. I want to see this apartment you’re signing a lease for.”
She rolled her eyes at me.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“E.G., please don’t do this. Please don’t be one of those guys.”
“What guy?” I asked.
“I tell you I’m a foster and now you need to rush in and play dad, or hero, or whatever role you think you need to play to make yourself feel good. I don’t need your help. I’ve been on my own for years. I don’t need you to come look at the apartment with me and I definitely don’t need your pity.”
“Flowers, look at me,” I told her. “Do I strike you as someone who does anything out of pity? I give zero shits how you grew up. You’ve proven yourself to be a competent employee. As such, I want to see where you’ll be living, what the commute entails, and if it makes the most sense for you to be in that location related tomyneeds, not yours.”
“Okay. That sort of makes you an asshole.”
“A much more accurate assessment of my personality. I asked about your past simply because it raised an eyebrow. Which you have to acknowledge is unusual. It was a question. I wanted it answered. The end.”
She smirked. “Just so you know, I’m fine with having an asshole for a boss.”
“Just you so you know, I’m barely tolerating having a smart ass as an employee. But it seems I’m stuck for now. Don’t book any appointments for me for Friday afternoon. We’ll check out the place, and if it works for me, then it will be your decision.”
