by Jason Letts
Keenan raised his hand to speak as a student in a class might. I stopped and nodded.
“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t come to me in the first place? If someone was bothering you I could’ve put a stop to it,” he said.
I forced a smile, appreciating the sentiment but knowing it was overly optimistic.
“I did bring it up right here in this office, though I didn’t want to call anyone out by name, which would’ve been kind of pointless anyway since it was virtually everyone. I found out one of the guys who hit on me here was even married. And things were so rushed when I started, I hardly even knew who you were, much less that I could come to you for help when I was creepily leered at by Martin right in my interview before being told to get to work. What would you have done, fire everyone right then and there if I’d shared my first recording with you right when it was over?”
Keenan shut his eyes and tilted his head away, putting a flush of fear in me that I’d been too descriptive.
“Maybe not. Maybe it did require extreme measures I was in no way prepared to make,” he said. “But I know I would’ve done something. I look out for my employees. I would’ve brought your desk in here if nothing else so I could personally monitor every interaction you had.”
I nodded slowly, trying to look supportive of his comments.
“That would’ve been a nice gesture, but I don’t want special treatment or unusual considerations. All I want is to be able to do my job in a secure, respectful atmosphere.”
“You don’t want any special treatment?” He gave me a suggestive look that I took as an invitation to move the conversation toward figuring out what was happening between the two of us.
“Can’t you tell that I like you and that I want to be with you? I feel like I’ve been pretty obvious, but even then I want to be able to have my professional space too so that I can make strides in my career. Can’t I have both without one infringing on the other?”
Keenan took a deep breath and exhaled, watching me the entire time. I wondered how long he was going to make me stand there with my insides in a knot. Then the slightest grin formed on his lips.
“I don’t blame you for making the recordings. If it weren’t for them I’d have brought every last one of them back. I’m just lucky I bootstrapped the company, or else a board would be involved in all of these hiring and firing decisions. Sitting around with a bunch of people listening to that would’ve gotten really ugly.”
I had to admit that it hurt to tell him I wanted him and hear anything other than that he wanted me back.
“But…” I said, wanting him to go back to that but unable to say another word about it.
“But you’re right. You should be able to keep your professional and personal lives separate if you want. Go ahead and get back to work then, and we can talk about the rest of it after the day’s over,” he said with a wry smile.
I left thinking that had to be a good sign, right? He wasn’t going to string me along all day just so he could tell me our hookup was nice but that he wanted to move on. How badly I wished I could’ve gotten a straight answer or firm plans out of him. At least we were going to talk after work, but what that would entail was anyone’s guess.
Returning to my new coworkers, I went around to check on their progress. Yesenia and Miles and Lena and Quincy were all doing great, but when I looked over Penelope’s shoulder my heart sank. Instead of snappy images and clever descriptive paragraphs, there were just a few phrases spread out across the screen.
“What’s going on? Is this all you’ve done?” I asked, resisting a strong pull to get emotional about it. Penelope, a plus-sized woman in her thirties with noticeably rosy cheeks cast a deliberate look over to Rebis, who was focused intently on the screen. A pair of glasses hung on the very end of his nose. This wasn’t going to be good.
“Hi Rebis, can you show me what you’ve done, please?” I asked.
“Of course, take a look at these,” he said. He slowly pulled up a few images from our stock library that he’d been working, and the dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach increased tenfold. He seemed able to crop images and select parts of images with the lasso tool to copy and paste them crudely into other images, but that was it. No layers, no shading, not much ability to really manipulate photos in a way that would be believable.
Without a doubt, Rebis wasn’t going to make it here. The only question left was how best to break the news.
“We’re looking for something a little more dynamic than this, something involving more textures and shadowing. Can you go ahead and make some changes to this one that might suggest that what we’re seeing is in the nighttime?”
Rebis gave me a look like he was smelling something unpleasant and then went about attempting the task without a word. After adjusting the overall brightness of the images, he cycled through a few different tools in what I realized was a blind search for something that might work. He gave me a nervous look and I raised my eyebrows in concern, hoping he would understand what was happening.
“Now if you’ll just give me a minute I can get it,” he said.
One minute turned into thirty, in which time the most noticeable thing he did was use a slightly translucent marker tool to draw some shadowing blobs here and there. I took a deep breath.
“Rebis, can we talk for a minute in the office over here?” I asked as gently as I could. His eyes widened at the oncoming train.
“We don’t really need it to be nighttime for this, though. Let’s do something more relevant to the task at hand,” he said quickly.
“Please come with me so we can talk,” I said.
“But…”
“I’m asking you to come with me, and that’s something you need to do,” I said in a low voice, aware that all of the others were now watching me. Rebis noticed too, which compelled him to place a hand on the desk to lift himself out of the seat. Together we very slowly moved into my office. I felt like I was going to be sick but smiled and gestured for him to sit down in the chair as I went behind the desk.
He opened his mouth but I went ahead and blurted out the thrust of it.
“I’m sorry, but what we need for this position is something you’re not able to accomplish,” I said. His eyes were still wide. He scratched his yellowing nails against the white stubble on his cheek and then rubbed both hands together to warm them up.
“Now excuse me,” he said, “but I’ve barely been given a chance. With just a little more time I’ll be able to get it. I’ve done marvelous work.”
“I wish I could, but we don’t have time to lose getting these things done. We can’t train you and wait for you to learn…”
“I don’t need to learn. I know the program very well,” he protested.
“No, you don’t,” I said. “Maybe you’re not aware of it, but the skill set you have is very beginner level.”
He was getting red in the face, anger contorting the ends of his mouth and the wrinkles around his eyes.
“I know where this is going and I must say this is reprehensible. I was promised a job here!” His voice must’ve been loud enough to carry through the glass walls to where the others were working.
“Please, keep your voice down,” I said firmly. “You do not possess the skill level that you stated on your applications. Your paperwork hasn’t been filed yet. We’re not going to be able to bring you on.”
It hurt to have to say these things. Only a few weeks had passed since Martin was trying to get me to leave, and the things I was saying were far too similar to the things he had said for my liking. Rebis adjusted the glasses on his face and snarled at me.
“I’ve barely set foot in the door and you turn me away. I know what this is about. It’s not my skills you object to. It’s my age. This is age discrimination, plain and simple!”
My jaw dropped at the accusation. I felt like I’d sooner die than discriminate against anyone, and to have the charge thrust at me in this way burned. To make matters worse
, his shouting had apparently carried all the way into Keenan’s office, because he was standing a ways off in the aisle.
“That is not true at all,” I said, trying to remember if I’d ever noticed anything like graduation dates on his application when I was sifting through hundreds of them as fast as I could. “Your age doesn’t concern me in the slightest. I don’t want to have to do this, but you are not able to perform this job.”
Rebis was climbing out of his chair as I spoke, his teeth gritted. He opened the door before turning back to continue howling at me. Apparently now he was more than comfortable making as big a scene as he could.
“One day you’ll find out what it’s like to be treated so awfully on account of your age. In the meantime, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”
I got up and stalked over, but Keenan was already there a short distance from the door with a sympathetic smile.
“Surely we can just chalk this up to something that didn’t work out,” he said with more sympathy and charm than I could muster. “How about I put in a few calls and see if we can find you a place somewhere more suited to you? Or maybe a spot in some classes. It never hurts to brush up.”
Rebis eyed him warily but the snarl returned.
“It’s your loss, and you’ll pay for it,” he said before blustering on, snatching his coat, and leaving us all in perfect silence. I looked over regretfully at Keenan, who appeared bewildered by what had just taken place.
CHAPTER 11
“It’s not your fault,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I said it’s not your fault,” Keenan continued, walking over to the cluster of desks. “Save all of this, everything he did at every stage of him doing it. Put it on a drive and get it onto my desk as soon as possible. I’m going to have to give my lawyer a heads up.”
Keenan went into his office, taking most of the oxygen in the room with him. I was no Photoshop wizard, and even with Lena and I doing it together picking everything Rebis did apart and saving it all took most of the day. I let her deliver the drive. At least the others managed to soldier on without any more incident.
I waved them off and said goodnight to Lena, feeling glum about how the day went. Keenan’s office door was still closed and there was no indication of any movement. I grabbed my coat and went to the elevator, but as I reached out to push the button I saw him trotting to catch up with me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He had his coat in his hands and tossed it on when he reached my side.
“I was going to head home,” I said, shrugging.
“I don’t think so. You’re coming out with me and we’re hitting the town.”
His winning smile coaxed out one of my own. It went without saying that it sounded like a great idea to me.
“Let’s not hit it too hard, though. We’ve got a lot of work tomorrow and we’re far from being in the clear with all this,” I said. Keenan narrowed his eyes at me in a playful way.
“I thought you wanted some distance between your work life and your private life. Why bring up any of that stuff?”
“Well, we’re still here, aren’t we?”
“Right, let’s change that,” he said.
After the elevator door opened, Keenan flicked the lights off, leaving the floor in sudden darkness. We descended to the parking garage below where his red Tesla was the last vehicle remaining. It made me a little suspicious when he held the door open for me. How could he be so nice after not being willing to look at me a short while ago?
The car spun silently across slick streets that reflected the glow of the streetlights.
“Where are we going this time, another hidden gem down a dark set of stairs with only a few tables? Now that I think of it, most of the places you’ve taken me to are basements. Kind of weird,” I said.
“Who doesn’t love visiting a good basement? But no, not this time. This is about as far from that as you can get. It wasn’t easy getting a table either. I had to find time to make some calls today, some promises I won’t ever forget. Sometimes I think this city was built on secret deals,” he said, staring at the road in front of us for a moment until a smirk spread across his face.
I was glad he was in a good enough mood to joke, at least.
“I guess you’re not too worried about what Rebis might do then,” I said. My voice was riddled with guilt. I should’ve been more careful, taken more time. That man should’ve never gotten anywhere near our office.
“I’m not. I’ve got my legal fees anyway, and if he comes at me I’ll beat it off sooner or later. Settlements aren’t my style either. When he finds out it would be long and difficult to get anything even if he was able to dupe the courts into giving him an award, he may realize he has better ways to spend his time.”
I nodded, allowing myself to feel slightly better until I saw a restaurant we were passing that was lit up like the sun, casting a bright-yellow glow in every direction.
“Fiasco? It looks fancy. I’m not sure I’m dressed…”
“There’s no other way to say it. You always come into work looking gorgeous, a complete knockout. Don’t change a thing,” he said, and I hoped he couldn’t see me blushing. “But yeah, these sort of ironic restaurant names are all the rage now. Someone thinks it’s funny to have people pay a hundred bucks for a plate in a place called The Trough.”
While I was glad Keenan approved of my olive dress, I knew that my hair must’ve been a mess after spending the day in yelling matches with old men. Popping the mirror down, I hastily tried to perform some hands-to-hair CPR. Another glance at the restaurant told me that the place was packed full of people, and from the looks of it, it meant no difference to them that it was Monday, Saturday, or any other night of the week.
The valet took Keenan’s car, and we strolled around to the front doors, which were held open for us. The restaurant had my mouth watering with incredible smells as soon as I’d stepped inside. Other than some tapestries on the walls near the entrance depicting fighting scenes occurring in bars, pigpens, and on the streets, there wasn’t much in the way of a fiasco around.
The waiter brought us to a table for two in the center of a long row of them somewhere between the bar and a large statue cleverly depicting a soaked bride and groom kissing in the rain. I took one look at the menu and couldn’t even bring myself to pick it up when I saw that there weren’t any prices listed anywhere on it.
“And I’m going to take the check on this one too, no matter how much you insist,” he said.
I looked at him demurely, feeling like I’d been caught red-handed.
“Thank you,” I said.
“And order anything you want. We’ll be starting with champagne. You deserve it,” he said, leaning back a little as if to enjoy the effect he was having on me. “I know we’ve left the office now, but I have to let you know how incredible what you’ve done is. I should be downsizing my life right now, slashing my expenses and renting out my couch on Airbnb. Instead, this transition has been almost seamless. Things are continuing to grow and at this rate we’ll be back to where we were in just a few short months, with lots of room to keep running afterward.
“And what’s more, you’ve been truly phenomenal at it. Sure, there’ve been some hiccups like today, but you’ve had the ideas and wherewithal to put them into practice, seemingly conjuring employees out of thin air to boot. I’m blown away by how well this suits you, the management thing.”
“Oh, stop,” I said. “Or keep going…”
Keenan chuckled and took a disbelieving look at me with his eyebrows raised, like I was something special.
“To think you were brought in just a little while ago to crank out copy. Who would’ve guessed you’d have all of this inside you? And from the looks of it, we’ll need you to keep spending your time building up our staff. That is unless you can spare any time to discharge more brilliant ideas about our new business model. I owe so much to you, Sarah.”
It was flat
tering to the extreme to hear all of this, but my nitpicky self couldn’t help but fixate on the things he wasn’t saying. Were we going to be together? Did he finally understand what I’ve been saying about the hardships women faced that I’d been describing?
The waiter came, Keenan ordered champagne, and although it was a little difficult to deduce what half the items on the menu were, I ordered braised beef with chutney and pureed parsnip.
“Does that mean you don’t mind having more women around the office?” I asked. Keenan looked at me and smiled.
“Not at all. Lena seems like a very dedicated worker and from what I’ve seen of the others I don’t have a single complaint to make. Let’s bring in the best people we can get our hands on,” he said. I pursed my lips.
“But you see, for a lot of people in positions of power the best person always turns out to be the best man, and that leaves a lot of women passed over, not given credit, not given promotions.”
Keenan’s smile faltered and he took a sip of his water. I knew this wasn’t what he wanted to talk about, but after his high praise I felt like there was never going to be a better time to get through to him.
“I have no doubt that’s the case,” he said. “But sometimes there’s this the-whole-world’s-against-me narrative that comes across that I just don’t get. I’ll be the first to tell you that there are biased, bigoted, prejudiced people out there who do real harm in concrete ways, but sometimes it sounds like the argument is that there’s a conspiracy going on with seemingly normal people going out of their way by extreme lengths to attack women.”
“Sometimes that can happen,” I said.
He pursed his lips and glanced toward the kitchen, where our food was most definitely not on its way over. There was a lecture I could’ve given him on institutional discrimination and micro-aggressions, but I had to remind myself that for him this was a learning journey that had to be done in small pieces.