We’ve ordered a pizza with the works on it and are halfway through our second slices when his expression changes.
“Tell me about yourself,” he invites. “What don’t I know yet about you?”
I dab my mouth with my napkin. “Not sure what there is to tell. I’m a typical 20-something living in a city I can’t afford to live in with a dream job that probably won’t pay the bills because it’s so competitive and hard to break into. So, I’m doing what I need to do right now to survive and hoping I don’t have to settle too much in the career department. You like your career?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’m a numbers guy so VP of finance suits me well. The stuff I’m here doin’ isn’t my usual thing as such, but I just had to do a big audit and fire some people because of scandal, thievery, and fraud.”
“Oh wow.”
“Not fun to deal with that shit.”
“That explains some of the moods,” I throw in.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. But I’m the only one able to do it with Dad’s health and Aiden just getting married, so yeah… don’t have many mood swings about work back home because I’m doing stuff in my wheelhouse.”
“You like being immersed in spreadsheets?” I ask.
“Something like that.” He smirks. “Does that make me boring?”
“You are definitely not boring,” I say.
His smirk widens to a smile. “It’s not just about number crunching, it’s about finding ways to save money, make more money, figure out where the growth is happening and work on ways to maximize it. I like what I do.” He shrugs. “And I have a great team. And doing what I do I rarely have to bring it home. Job stress – where there is any - it stays at work most of the time.”
“So you’d have gone into finance even if you weren’t born into your family?”
“Maybe. That or I’d have been a math teacher, maybe. I get numbers, they make sense to me, and I can see myself helping kids make sense of them.”
I smile. “A teacher is an honorable profession.”
“Definitely,” he replies with a bright smile. “But I do my best to keep corporate finance above-board, too.”
“What do you like to do for fun?” I ask.
“Video games. I have a boat. Like to sail. Go hiking. Camp. Fish.”
“A boat? That’s great.”
“Yeah. It is. I’m out on it every chance I get.”
“Surfing, Mr. California?”
“A little bit. Not that much of a wave chaser. Love the beach, the water, though. How about you? Tell me about your hobbies, your family,” he invites.
“I haven’t had a whole lot of time to explore my hobbies,” I say. “But I love antiques and going treasure hunting in thrift shops, used bookstores… I love books and writing, love museums, old movies. Cooking. Gardening.”
“And your family?” he asks, lifting a third piece of pizza onto his plate.
“It’s me and Shane. He’s four years older. Our mom walked out when I was a kid and Shane’s got mental health issues that have spiraled into addiction.” I shrug. “Deep down, he’s a good guy, but he’s in a lot of pain.”
“What about your father?”
“Dad thinks kids should be seen and not heard and never really had much time for us. Figured his life consisted of his job, the bar for drinks after work, dinner on the table when he got home, and sitting in front of the TV until bedtime. I grew up too fast trying to replace my mom by taking care of everyone. Cooking, cleaning. Dad lost patience with Shane’s issues but gave him a shot to get his life together a couple years ago, so Shane moved home to try to go back to school, but he screwed up and Dad kicked him out. I’d already moved out, so I took Shane in while I was still working for Aiden but then the job ended and I had trouble making ends meet. Shane wasn’t helping matters, not in a place to do much to help himself never mind help me. My coffee cart job ended abruptly with two weeks’ pay owing to me that I didn’t get, and you know how there’s that saying about most average people being two pays away from bankruptcy? Well, I was below average and just one pay away from it and losing that job and not getting my final paycheck was enough to mean eviction.”
“Shit,” he says, eyes looking remorseful.
I wave my hand. “You didn’t know me, not a thing about me then so I understand your reaction the night we met. But nobody I knew would take me in unless I abandoned Shane because of his history of extreme mood swings, his destructive behavior, and I couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that. That’s how I ended up in your brother’s apartment. Desperation. My father said, ‘I told you so’ and my cousin said I could only come if Shane didn’t because she has a kid and Shane can get dark sometimes and she didn’t want her child around that, which I respect, but our only offer was a dirty warehouse where I suspect Gramma the spider lives because I already know a giant snake lives there and I’m terrified of snakes, too. So, that’s where the rest of my stuff is stored, and you met me at my breaking point.”