“Okay AJ, this is where I leave you. You let me know if you need anything, okay sweetpe—I mean, bye bye now.” Shelby barely restrains a giggle at her slip-up, then gives a little wave that wouldn’t be out of place on the first day of kindergarten, dropping your little tyke off for the first time.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He rubs a hand down his smooth-shaven face, thick hair flopping with the motion, looking ready to dig his own grave. “She’s treating this like it’s bring your kid to work day.” He gives a disbelieving chuckle, like he’s finally resigned to this being his fate, but he’s not sure how he got here.
“AJ, huh?” Can’t help the amused little grin tugging at one corner of my mouth.
“It’s Asher, thanks.” His tone is dry, this slightly self-deprecating edge to everything that’s come out of his mouth so far, but not cruel. Just slightly fed up. Perhaps like he’s been trying to be seen as himself, an adult, rather than his mom’s baby boy for a while now. But what do I know? I just met the guy. Just giving you my instant read on him.
I wave a hand, gesturing at one of the chairs across from my desk, and he takes a seat, settling in and leaning forward.
“I’m Ellie. Welcome to the Darling Digital side of the operation.” The soft words, said with a warm smile, get me a tight nod in return.
“Thanks.”
“Why don’t we start with you telling me why you’re here?”
His face pulls in confusion, features quirking, like he misheard me. He takes a second to process, his mouth slightly parted, and he touches the tip of his tongue to an eyetooth as he does. When he realizes I’m still staring, waiting for him to speak, he gives me one word. “Sorry?”
If I had to describe his looks to you in a word, it would beearthy. And if I can use more than one word, it would be to qualify that I don’t mean he’s giving off crunchy, hippie vibes. More like if you took salt-of-the-earth Scottish or Irish and gave it a metrosexual makeover, it would be the guy currently holding court in one of my guest chairs right now. Do people still say metrosexual? I just said it, so there.
He’s all deep, muted colors—browns, reds, greens—stylish and young, but also with an air of maturity I didn’t expect from the way Shelby talked about him like he was still in middle school. My expectations are already shot to hell, and I’m not used to being wrong. Time to get a proper gauge here.
“You’ve probably done a lot of listening during your orientation today. But I want to know why you’re here.” He opens his mouth, probably to spout out whatever the fuck he thinks he’s supposed to say, and I run right over him, a hand held up in the space between us. “I want to hear it from you, not your mom.” An ever-present soft smile is on my lips, so he knows my claws aren’t out, this isn’t an attack. “Why do this apprenticeship? What do you want to learn while you’re here, and what do you want to leave with, at the end of it?”
His head turns to the side, ever so slightly, and he squints at me, just a bit. Clearly, I’ve thrown him off, but it’s not a fucking trick. I just want to be on the same page. Not expect one thing from him while he is on a completely different page, or a different book, even. I don’t play the miscommunication trope game.
Then the smallest smile peeks out, devastatingly charming, and the thought hits me that this kid could probably get anything he wants with that disarming face, his unassuming air, his casual nonchalance that puts you at ease, readies you for whatever the heck he has in mind for you.
The girls around here might need to be warned. There’s a new danger roaming these halls.
“No one’s asked me that. I think I’ve met fifteen people, and gotten a lecture from each and every one of 'em so far.” He gives his head a small shake, lets a hint of a chuckle out. “I’m trying to remember it all, but damn, y’all got a lot to say around here.”
I tilt my head forward with a smile. “Yeah. You’ve probably listened enough for today. Let’s switch it up.”
He glances to the side, the wall there, sits up taller and crosses one ankle on top of the opposite knee, the booted foot hanging in the air, then makes eye contact again. Warm brown eyes with surprising depth hold mine tight, and I sit back and listen as he opens to me, just a little.
“I know my mom has it in her head that after a few months here I’ll wanna stay permanently.” His gaze sharpens. “That’s not gonna happen.”
My mouth shrugs back at him, noncommittally. I have no skin in this game yet. I’d rather start this off knowing exactly what to expect out of this kid, not have my head in the sand and the clouds at the same time. No wasted energy, no futile disappointment. Setting proper expectations is half of keeping anyone—clients, or your team—satisfied.
“I’m an illustrator, and by extension, a graphic designer. But what I’m really interested in is illustrating. I’ve built up some clients over the years—”
My hand juts up again. “Over the years?” My brows raise.
“Six, almost seven years now.”
My brows raise higher. How? From the stories Shelby’s shared, this kid has to be maybe eighteen, nineteen?
“Started at fourteen,” he answers my silent question.
So he’s, what? Twenty, twenty-one?
I give him another face shrug, but one of admiration, approval. I’m not the only one who got a head start on their professional goals in this room. Don’t meet many others like me in that regard. I gesture at him to continue.
“Anyway, I’ve been paying my own way with it for years now, but I haven’t been able to turn it into the kind of enterprise I’m hoping for. I don’t know what I don’t know—haven’t figured out what I’m missing—but I haven’t been able to scale it, get past this threshold I’ve been at.” His eyes dart to the wall again, mouth pursing in thought. “And, y’know, my mom’s been on me for ages to come work here, design on your team, but that’s not where my heart’s at. But she finally sold me on doing an apprenticeship, where I illustrate and design for your clients, your campaigns, but I also get to learn more about the business side of things, how to grow a small business, that kind of thing.” He shrugs. “So we agreed to a few months. I’m here to do whatever you guys need of me, as long as I can also learn what I need to learn to break out of this plateau I’ve been in.” He wobbles his head side to side. “I have a feeling the entire thing is going to be one recruitment campaign to get me to stay here past that, though.”
He’s sharp, this kid.
“Yeah, she’s halfway through engraving a golden name plate for you in the back right now,” I admit to him.
