Never Got Over You

by Whitney G.

  The room was still silent.

  She mimed a round of applause and we all reluctantly gave it to her.

  As soon as she stepped off the stool, she motioned for me to follow her into her office.

  “So, now that I’ve formally taken you off dumpster duty, isn’t there something you want to say to me?” She smiled. “Something that rhymes with bank shoe?”

  She can’t be serious right now. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “No, not I’m sorry.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Try to think a little harder. It’s the first thing you should say in gratitude for me keeping you on my staff when I know how broke you are. I mean, if you lost this job, you’d probably be out on the street. I know you don’t make that much waitressing at that cafe.”

  Clenching my fists at my side, I gritted my teeth. “Thank you.”

  “So, can I count on you to not give your opinion to investors when they stop by this Friday?” she asked. “Because, as great as they were, they made me look bad. They made it seem like you were the boss and CEO of this company and―” She paused, laughing. “I’m sorry, I just―I can’t believe you thought you knew more than me about what rich and high-paying customers would want.”

  I said nothing.

  “Well, anyway! Glad we’re finally on the same page.” She flipped her hair, and then she pulled a notebook from her desk drawer. “Now, tell me all your ideas for the meeting. I’ll tidy them up before presenting them, and I’ll even let you be in the room when it happens, okay?”

  I blinked. Then I blinked a few more times to make sure that this was actually my reality. That for the ninth month in a row, I was still dealing with this tyrant “bish” as my boss.

  “Is there something in your eye, Kate?” She tilted her head to the side. “Do I need to get my First Aid kit?”

  “No.” I ripped my pink “Forever Team Girl Boss” pin off my sweater. “You need to get yourself a new marketing director, though. Try to pay her more than the dog shit you paid me.” I turned away and headed straight for the employee room. I grabbed my oversized backpack and stormed toward the exit doors.

  When I made it outside, I felt a soft tug at my elbow from behind.

  “Wait, Kate.” My boss moved in front of me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I can be a little much sometimes.”

  I gave her a blank stare.

  “Okay, okay.” She let out a breath. “I can be a lot. But I would never fire you and I can’t afford to let you walk away. If you stay, I can double your salary.”

  “I’ll pass,” I said flatly. “I’m done with you now.”

  “I can get you a car!” She smiled. “I mean, you’ve helped me to make millions with your strategies, and I won’t even ask you to pay me back for it until ten months down the line. How about that?”

  Half of me wanted to consider her offer, but the other half was trying to process her “helped me to make millions” claim. She’d never told me that before; she always claimed the business was trying to stay afloat.

  “Sound good?” She said, looking genuine for the first time. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you here, Kate.”

  I swallowed. I was desperate, but I wasn’t that damn desperate.

  “I’m good,” I said, stepping back. “Best of luck with your company.”

  “What about a monthly bonus?”

  I turned away before I could give in, ignoring her calls and continued offers.

  By the time I made it home, I knew, without a doubt that it was time for me to leave for another city. Again.

  This was my eighteenth one in the past nine and a half years, and it’d only taken me five to realize that I needed to keep things simple, so I could pick up and leave on a whim. I never made friends, only associates. I never bought any furniture since air mattresses were cheaper. And I never―ever got my hopes up; I’d learned long ago that people always let me down in the end.

  After stuffing my last pair of shoes into my bag and making sure nothing was left in my motel room, I called the only person in my family who still talked to me. Sarah Kay.

  It rang once. It rang twice.

  “Hey, there! It’s me, Sarah Kay!” Her voicemail answered. “I’m currently away from my phone, so please drop me a line and I’ll call you back when I can!”

  I ended the call without leaving a message. I didn’t ever want my parents to know that she still talked to me, or risk her getting in trouble.

  I sent a quick text to the motel manager, letting him know that I wouldn’t need the room anymore, that I appreciated him letting me work in his diner from time to time. Then I started the long walk to the one place that always led to a fresh start. The bus depot.

  “Where’s the next bus going?” I asked the clerk, the second I arrived. “Anything that leaves within the hour?”

  “I’ve got an eight thirty bus to Phoenix, Arizona.”

  I shook my head. I’d already tried and failed there. “What about the one after that?”

  “Edgewood, Nevada.”

  “No ...” I still couldn’t bring myself to think about my hometown without feeling an ache in my chest. “Anything else leaving tonight?”

  “Um, let’s see.” He tapped his keyboard. “I’ve got a bus heading to Seattle at midnight. It’s a three-day trip, so you’d make it there by Sunday. Quite a few stops and layovers on that one.”

  “Seattle’s perfect.”

  “Great! That’ll be three hundred and eighty-three dollars.”

  “How much?” I felt my mouth go dry.

  “Three hundred and eighty-three.” He smiled. “It’s usually four hundred, but I’m giving you the rush discount.”

  “Is there a ‘help me, I’m poor’ discount?” I asked, half joking.

  He sighed and opened his drawer. “Two hundred and eighty-three. That’s as low as I can go.”

  “Thank you.” I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I didn’t dare let them fall. I handed over almost all the money I had in my wallet and hoped each stop would be near a McDonald’s.

  When I made it to the waiting lobby, I started my usual “new city, new life” routine. I googled the most affordable motels and went straight to the city’s digital newspaper to search for open jobs.

  As I was clicking through some of the job offerings I’d done before—gas station attendant, housekeeper, janitor—I heard the familiar sounds of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major.

  I looked up and saw a young girl strumming her violin across from me. Her posture was good, but she was struggling to perfect a few of the notes.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling. “You should raise your elbow a bit. You’ll hit the strings better that way.”

  “Ugh!” The older woman next to her clucked her teeth. “What the hell would you know?”

  “I’m sorry. I was just trying to—”

  “My daughter’s skills are already on a world-class prodigy level and we don’t need some homeless girl’s help, okay?”

  “I’m not homeless.”

  “You look like it.” She looked me up and down, then she pulled a couple one dollar bills from her wallet and tossed them at me. “There. Go buy yourself some chips and enjoy the music. You’ll be seeing my daughter in Carnegie Hall soon. I’m sure it’ll make a great ‘I knew her before she was famous’ story for you someday.”

  I stood up from my seat and moved to the windows, leaving her cash exactly where it fell. Her daughter would never make it to Carnegie with struggle notes like that, and if she’d caught me on a better day I would’ve told her that she was wasting her goddamn time.

  I returned to reading Seattle’s jobs section and clicked on a banner for Pier Autumn Coffee.

  URGENT INTERVIEW FAIR: EXECUTIVE POSITIONS

  Due to recent company restructuring, we are hiring a new team of forty (40) executives, with four (4) chief positions. We are looking for someone to fill each spot with unparalleled passion, travel experience, and a true love for each desig
nated field.

  If you’re reading this banner, you have clicked on The Marketing Director position and you can find the requirements below. (If you’re looking for one of the other fields please click here.)

  Our ideal marketing director will have a master’s degree (highly preferred), a love for world class coffee and travel, familiarity with the Pacific Northwest (especially Lake Tahoe), and will be able to handle a set of unique challenges in the local and global markets.

  Our interview process consists of a challenging exam, a group interview and tour, and a five-minute pitch in front of our esteemed board.

  Please do not apply if you will not be able to complete the entire process.

  Please do not apply if you do not like coffee.

  And, per our CEO, please do not apply if you’re incapable of being loyal.

  I REREAD THE DESCRIPTION again and again, feeling my heart race at the words. Even though I never got the chance to finish my master’s degree, I couldn’t help but think that this job opportunity was a sign. I was finally heading to the right city, finally getting the chance to do something I truly loved and restart my life.

  The wrong notes continued to float from that girl’s violin into the air, and the more she played, the more I thought about how my old life used to be. How believing in a man I trusted way too damn much had ultimately brought me here to this very moment.

  He never came back like he promised...

  I felt my heart clench at the memory of my first love, the man who still came to me in my dreams on some nights, despite his lies and utter betrayal. Despite me trying my best to move on with other boyfriends who could never compare to him.

  Stop it, and focus on the future, Kate. It’s been over nine years now. It’s time to finally let James Garrett go ...

  (and) while I can’t deny

  Sean

  SUBJECT: OFFICIAL BOARD Vote & Replacement Interviews

  Mr. Holmes,

  After much deliberation, the board has come to a decision. Despite the fact that you are reckless, selfish, and wholly dedicated to working against us at every turn, we will allow you to sit in on the remaining interviews for our all new executive team.

  The vote was a heated one (9-7), so I suggest you take a long look at yourself in the mirror and realize that you are 100% replaceable, CEO or not. (I also find it quite frustrating that you don’t even drink coffee ...)

  Please come to my office so we can discuss the applicants we’ll be meeting this week.

  Chairman of the Board,

  Pier Autumn Coffee

  Joseph Jewell

  P.S. ―No offense, but we miss our old CEO.

  I HELD BACK A SIGH as I read his message, debating whether I wanted to waste my time with a response. I wasn’t even in the office today; I was at home working on one of my favorite classic cars with Blue.

  Not that this was an excuse. I’d always hated being trapped in an office and dealing with corporate culture. Reading long, drawn out emails in a gilded box, instead of having face to face conversations someplace we actually wanted to be. There was no amount of designer-grade furniture or Grade-A building amenities that could keep me in my office for more than four hours at a time.

  Does he honestly think I want to come in and sit through these boring-ass interviews?

  I’d sat through enough of them yesterday to know that the applicant pool was far from impressive. A part of me almost regretted firing the old team, but another part of me wanted to fire every person in the Human Resources department for wasting my time. Not a single applicant had scored higher than a sixty out of a hundred on the intake test (which was a take-home), and some of them were people I’d previously fired before.

  Hmmm. Firing the entire HR department may be the better idea ...

  I drafted an email to let the department know that they were no longer needed, but I eventually deleted my words and typed some for Joseph Jewell instead.

  SUBJECT: RE: OFFICIAL Board Vote and Remainder of Replacement Interviews

  Mr. Jewell,

  Unless you and the other board members are discussing the ways that you all are planning to leave and finally let me run the company the way I want to, I couldn’t care less about your discussions or your thoughts about me.

  I have no desire to sit in on any interviews until someone gets a perfect score, and when I do look in the mirror today, it won’t be to realize that I’m “100% replaceable.” It’ll be to remind myself that I’m the CEO and not you. (Oh, and that your wife blushes at this face whenever she sees me.)

  I’m not in the office today, and for the umpteenth time: I don’t need to drink coffee to know how to sell it.

  CEO of this company (not you),

  Pier Autumn Coffee

  Sean Holmes

  P.S.―No offense taken. I miss not having to answer to a power hungry, blood-thirsty board.

  MY PHONE RANG WITHIN minutes of pressing send on that email, but I hit ignore. Three times for each of his unwanted calls.

  I started to turn off my phone for the day, but it buzzed with a new email from him.

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: OFFICIAL Board Vote and Remainder of Replacement Interviews

  Mr. Holmes,

  Let’s start over and be a little more mature, shall we?

  As of today, one applicant for the marketing executive position has scored a perfect 100/100. That interview will be Thursday at 8:00 a.m. Will you be there?

  Chairman of the Board,

  Pier Autumn Coffee

  Joseph Jewell

  I hesitated to answer. Since I’d taken over, no applicant in any department earned a perfect score. I’d honestly thought that by setting the bar that high, that I would get out of coming into the office for an entire month.

  THEN AGAIN, IF WE COULD finally land a good marketing director that’ll be the start of me finally changing things around...

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: Official Board Vote and Remainder of Replacement Interviews

  Fair enough.

  Change the time to 7:00 a.m. I want to meet this applicant personally.

  CEO, Pier Autumn Coffee

  Sean Holmes

  the sleepless nights

  Kate

  “IF YOU ARE LUCKY ENOUGH to be a part of our executive team, here is where you’ll spend most of your Fridays.” The tour guide ushered us into the fiftieth room of the day.

  I stifled a yawn as he walked us over to a mock café, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. I’d barely slept since I’d arrived in Seattle, and I was on edge the moment I received the “You’ve been granted and interview” email. I’d downloaded every shareholders’ report, scoured every previous marketing campaign, and watched every commercial the company had ever done over the past several years.

  The only thing I didn’t do was look up any news or notes on the CEO. The words “company restructuring” always meant that the CEO could be here today and gone tomorrow. Besides, I preferred to make my own impression of him (or her) when I came in for interviews.

  There were fifteen of us vying for the marketing executive slot, and I could tell from the guys’ custom leather shoes and the girls’ Hermes and Birkin bags that they’d all hailed from lucrative Wall Street and hedge fund firms. Places with millions of dollars at their disposal.

  As the guide led us into a sleek, great theater room, the “place where you can come get inspired by any movie whenever you need it,” my phone buzzed in my purse.

  A text message from Sarah Kay.

  Sarah Kay: Hey! Sorry I missed your call the other night. I wired you a couple thousand dollars and express-shipped you a suit and a pair of shoes. (Couldn’t find a decent bag in time, though) Please tell me it arrived before your interview?

  Me: It did. Thank you so much. *Again*. (I’ll pay you back for everything someday, I swear.)

  Sarah Kay: Don’t worry about it. I hope Seattle works out better for you. (I miss you so much it hurts. You know that, right?)

  Me: I hope so, too. (Y
es...more than you’ll ever know)

  “Um, Miss?” The tour guide’s voice made me look up. “No cell phones are allowed during the tour and interview process. Please turn it off or I’ll be forced to have security escort you from the building.”

  “Sorry.” I turned it off and tossed it into my bag. I followed the group through another room and tried to pay attention.

  As we entered a hallway that was encased in frosted glass, I couldn’t help but stare at the faint designs that were cut inside the panels.

  There were perfectly painted pine trees and a lake I knew all too well―Lake Tahoe. The winding roads were hand drawn under the sloping mountains, and I could make out the faint sketch of Edgewood’s Ferris Wheel. Far in the distance, in the upper right corner, were the haunting shadows that undoubtedly belonged to the Kensington Estate.

  Hmmm...

  “Our new CEO insisted on making some design changes to the building when he arrived a few years ago,” the tour guide said. “He wanted everything inside this campus to feel like his hometown. Interesting, isn’t it?”

  “Very interesting.” I smiled. I’d thought that one of the campus cafes being named “Salted Shores” was a mere coincidence, but now I believed it was a sign.

  I’m definitely getting this job ...

  “Alright, everyone!” the tour guide said. “Thank you all so much for being willing to complete your group tour portion of the interview at five o’clock in the morning. That’s very dedicated. Now is the time for you to refresh one last time before your interview. Afterwards, I’ll separate you into groups according to your test scores. And no, I won’t tell anyone what their individual score is.”