Chapter 3 – Grin and Bear It
Shaking away the memories of a tortured past, Nate slid out of his car, gritting his teeth as he used the cane for leverage to stand. He closed the door, the slamming sound echoing through the underground parking lot, and leaned against the vehicle, trying to catch his breath.
Nate waited until a car heading for the exit drove past before heading for the elevators, the pain in his leg throbbing in time to his shuffling gait. Nate thought of the Tylenol in his desk drawer and picked up the pace, egged on by the momentary promise of pain relief. He knew that taking them first thing would help get him to work in a more stable state, but the headache that usually came from co-worker interactions made pill popping a task reserved for the start of the workday.
As he waited for the elevator to make its slow descent in a cacophony of churning gears, Nate turned and surveyed the mural on the far wall of the elevator lobby. It showed an intricately detailed bird sitting on a telephone line, a computer chip gripped in its beak. “Red Robin Software Solutions” sat below the image in a stylized font. The bright beauty of the mural stood in stark contrast to dull nature of his sales job. Peddling mediocre productivity software to businesses was not what Nate thought of as a dream career, but given his physical inadequacy, it worked.
The elevator doors slid open and Nate stepped inside, pushing the button for the third floor. His phone pinged again as the doors closed. Checking the message, he saw it was from Richard, asking him to head directly to his office upon arrival. Nate groaned, knowing that meant walking the gauntlet of the office floor -they’re all going to laugh at you, fucking cripple - to get to Richard.
Steeling himself, Nate stepped out of the elevator and into the madness of the Red Robin sales department. Phones rang, voices mashed together to create one persistent hum of sales fervor, and the computer screens lit the area in a wash of colorful graphs and company logo screensavers. Head down, Nate made his way through the throng as fast as his legs could carry him, but he could not move fast enough to escape the derisive English accent sounding out above the ambient noise of office life.
“Well, if it isn’t Hopalong Cassidy joining us at last.” If being the loudest, most obnoxious individual was an Olympic event, George Mathers would be in possession of multiple gold medals. While many school bullies settled into normal behavior in adulthood, Mathers had carried on without breaking stride. The man was a nightmare, but the fact that he was fucking the human resources manager, Mary Quill, meant that his behavior was allowed to slide. Everyone knew it, so most, other than his merry crew of followers, tried to give the Englishman a wide berth.
Nate kept his head down as he walked past, which was the only reason he was able to avoid the leg that was stuck out with the sole purpose of tripping him. “Fuck you, George,” Nat mumbled, his response hidden under the guffaws of the Mathers posse.
Sweat was once again in full flow when Nate finally made it to the office of Richard Curtis. It was a safe space, but Nate cringed when he saw the look on his friend’s face.
“Close the door behind you, Givens,” Richard said sternly.
Nate did as he was told, closing the door before sheepishly taking the seat across from his boss and best friend. Richard was one of the most easygoing people Nate had ever met, but judging by the look on his face, he sensed that perhaps the friendship had finally been pushed to the point of breaking.
Continuing to scowl, Richard shuffled some papers on his desk before looking up and flashing his signature grin. Richard Curtis was all the things that Nate could only hope to be: handsome, well put together, and possessed of a charm that women found hard to resist. “Do you think I sold it to Mathers and his fuck buddies?” he asked, the grin widening to reveal a set of immaculate white teeth.
Relief washed over Nate, his previous stiff posture melting into one of comfortable relaxation. “I would think so. Shit, you had me fooled.”
Waving away the comment, Richard took on a more serious expression. “Right, let’s get to it. What do you want first, the good news or the even better news?”
Neither option was one that Nate was familiar with. His life was little more than a collection of bad to mediocre days melding into one. The prospect of something good excited him in a way that felt wholly unfamiliar. “Might as well go in order.”
Richard glanced down at the papers on his desk once again. “Your sales figures here are amazing, Nate. I’m saying this as your boss, not your friend. You could work part-time and still beat the pants off everyone else on staff.” He paused for a moment, looking at his friend for some sort of reaction. When he was getting nothing, he plowed on. “I am moving upstairs within the next six months, and I need someone to take this chair. I want that someone to be you.”
Nate opened his mouth to speak, but Richard held up a hand, stopping him before the words could get out.
“I don’t want to hear excuses about how you can’t do it, about your physical restrictions. I don’t want to hear anything other than you telling me you will take some time to seriously consider the offer.”
Breaking eye contact, Nate looked around the office, admiring the high-end furniture, the expensive art on the wall blazing brightly in all the colors of the spectrum. It all looked to refined when compared to his spartan cubicle, not to mention his home, which boasted a garish collection of furnishings and decor chosen by his mother. “I can do that,” Nate mumbled.
Richard smacked his hands together and beamed. “That’s what I’m talking about, although you will need to make an effort to be on time in the coming months. The big wigs will look at everything you do before putting you in this big fuck fancy leather chair.”
“Sure.” Nate nodded, his mind reeling as a feeling of dizziness washed over him. “Um, what’s the better news?”
“Mathers is getting shipped back to the London office next month. The reign of terror is over.”
“How did that happen, and how is Mary going to take that?”
Richard laughed. “She’s already talking about making the move to Old Blighty, totally oblivious to the fact that her man is fucking anything that moves when out in the wild.”
Finally, Nate found a reason to smile. “Well, that is indeed better news.”
The friends sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Richard glanced at his watch and said, “Right, buddy, time for you to hit that cubicle of yours and do some magic.”
With one more look around the office, Nate stood and turned for the door.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Richard said. “For the love of all things holy, don’t let your mother decorate this fucking office.”
Just in time for an awesome bedtime story 👾