“Let me get started.” I click from screen to screen until I reach my website. Now this. This I won’t screw up. I’m in my element.
Twenty minutes later, a man opens the door and stops at the threshold. I straighten and ask, “Can I help you?”
Melissa returned to the front desk, leaving me to install the program.
“Well…” He pauses and shuffles his feet. “My wife told me there was a place to fill out job applications.”
“Sure.” I move out of the way and motion him forward. “Go right ahead. I’m working on uploading a program, but that one is already complete.”
“Thank you.” The man walks across the floor, glancing in all directions as if someone is going to jump out of the woodwork and grab him by the nape of the neck and toss him out on his ass.
“When the screen comes up, click on the icon for jobs. It will take you to the most up-to-date openings in the city. Do you need me to show you how to use the program?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m familiar with computers.”
As he clicks on the mouse and taps on the keyboard, I study the man. He’s clean and well-kept compared to the guy who accosted Daisy in the parking lot. His hair is cut in a professional style, but it’s long, like he’s several weeks past his typical barber day. He appears sober and shows no signs of prolonged drug use.
Stop. You’re not volunteering for the therapist of the week. I return to the computer I’m updating and click the mouse.
“I haven’t seen you around here before. There aren’t a lot of male volunteers.
When I glance up from my work, he’s eyeing me like I’m an interloper. “This is my first night. I’m a software designer and college professor by day.” I step over to him and extend my hand. “My name’s Alexander Taylor.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He grasps my hand with a strong and confident greeting. He exudes confidence. “My name is Elijah Underwood. I’m a business owner by day.” He frowns and drops his arm to his side. “And a belly-up business owner by night. My company went under three months ago, so I’m out of a job.”
“Man, that’s rough.” I brace my hands on my hips and forget the project I was working on. This must be the man Daisy was talking about.
His eyes fill with regret, embarrassment, pride, and disappointment. It’s like a storm brewing in the distance. “I wallowed in whiskey for a couple of days, and my wife took off with the kids. Okay, it was more like two months and twenty-eight days. I apologized for acting like a fool, and now, I’m scouring the internet to find a job so my girls and son will come back home.”
“That’s admirable.” I clearly don’t have Daisy’s experience at the shelter, but this situation feels salvageable, and the need to help the man overwhelms me.
“I need to find a job stat before they no longer have a home to return to.”
I lean my hip against the computer station. “How long was the business in operation?”
“For three years.” He stands motionless as if one side of his body wants to be proud of what he accomplished while the rest of him is grabbling with disillusionment and an overwhelming feeling of failure.
“Bankrupt?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d broken even for the last two years, but I couldn’t keep doing it. I put everything back into the business. I always felt one step away from a breakthrough but could never get there. I shut down the doors and took out my money for my 401k to pay the bills for six months. I was an attorney for ten years, so I had a decent nest egg built up.”
“Does your wife support your business?” If I go down this road, I need to know what I’m working with. I’m not about to destroy something they’re trying to rebuild because I get a hardon talking business strategy.
“Yes, she always did. She told me to keep going, but I was depressed with the lack of progress.” He shrugs. “I was letting her down by not providing more for her and the kids.” The pain in his eyes makes my gut clench.
Three hours later, we’re at a table with paper strewn in every direction. His hands clutch the table’s edge so tightly his knuckles are white.
“Are you ready to revamp your business and double down? You have enough money to hold you over for three more months.”
He swallows hard over his Adam’s apple. “Yes, I have enough money to not have any worries for three more months, but if I–”
“We aren’t talking like that. You’ve got this. But if you can’t make a profit in three months, you have a job.” I’m not crazy. Within the first hour, I knew more about his business sense and work ethic than I did Sean’s when we started out together. There are several positions at my father’s company where he would fit in and be an asset. But he’s not going to need it.
“Thank you.”
“You were right. You’re on the cusp of breaking out, but you were too close to the company to see what an outsider would see. With these few adjustments, you’ll see progress that you haven’t seen in the last year.”
He smiles as his eyes dance with excitement as his death grip on the table lessens and the color returns to his knuckles. “I think you’re onto something here. You should do this for a living.”