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Authors: Sofie Hartwell
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explain who and what I am. I’ll simply take his lead.
I am tempted to call Paige, but I know she’s off with the family to their summer home in Hawaii. I often go on vacations with them, but I’m obviously not joining them this time.
Lunch comes around and there’s still no sign of any visitor so I change into workout clothes and use the home gym. It’s my first time to look around, and I see that though it is obviously smaller than a regular gym, it does have many of the most important pieces of equipment. I get on the elliptical machine and, after twenty minutes of sweating it out, my cell phone rings. It’s Matthew Rourke, from Human Resources, calling to see if he can drop by in an hour. I say yes, step off the machine, and take a shower.
Matthew is not exactly what I expected. He’s the same age as Jake, probably a little younger. He’s not one of those stodgy ID-wearing types I imagine an HR person to be. Obviously, there’s no dress code at Jake’s firm. He’s in a white shirt, black jeans, and boots. He has a black-strapped Jaeger LeCoultre watch on his left wrist. His dark blonde hair is a little on the long side. He has kind, smiling eyes. He looks more like a model than a corporate type.
“Emma?” he asks while sweeping over my face with his gaze. “I’m Matt.”
“Come on in,” I say welcomingly.
He comes inside the house and blows a low whistle. He looks everywhere, trying to take it all in.
“Never been here before?” I ask.
“No. This house was built three years ago, but I just joined the firm six months ago. It’s magnificent.”
“Yes, it is.” I agree without reservation.
“How are you related to Jake?” He’s curious, and I silently curse Jake for making this my problem.
“Jake didn’t tell you?” I pry, buying myself time to think.
“No, not really. He was in a rush to go to a field inspection. He just gave me your number and told me you’ll be doing part-time work once Elise flies back to Sweden.”
“I’m staying with him for the meantime. My brother was his best friend, and he passed away recently.” There. That sounds as close to the truth as I can make it. I am really staying here for the meantime since I don’t know what my fate will be. No need to mention the marriage, which is just a legal event anyway.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says quietly. “So you’ve been friends with Jake for a long time, then?” His question sounds like he wants to know if Jake and I are strictly friends.
“Yes, since I was a baby. Charlie, my brother, and Jake were friends from first grade,” I explain further.
He seems happy with my response. “Alright, then, let’s get down to brass tacks. I have a mountain of paperwork for you to fill out. Is there anywhere we can sit so you can start writing?”
I direct him to the dining table. We sit down and, before I take out the pen he’s offered, I ask him if I can get him a drink. “Coffee, tea, juice?”
“No, thank you. I just had caffeine for lunch. But do you mind if I look around while you sign the papers? It may be my only chance to see the interiors.”
“Go ahead. Why would I mind? It is a beautiful house.” Matthew stands up to do a tour of the house on his own. In the meantime, I’m grappling with my conscience. The forms ask for my name and, though, technically, I am not lying when I put in Emma Gilmore, I know it is deceitful to check the box for single rather than married. I choose to leave it blank. If I’m asked later on, I’ll just say I missed the line and lie, if I need to.
After twenty minutes, Matthew comes back to check in on my progress and is surprised to see I’m done. “Thank you so much for letting me wander around. Jake is such an artist. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to work for his firm. I dropped out of architecture and got a degree in business administration instead. I may not have what it takes to be a good architect, but at least I get to hang around talented
I am tempted to call Paige, but I know she’s off with the family to their summer home in Hawaii. I often go on vacations with them, but I’m obviously not joining them this time.
Lunch comes around and there’s still no sign of any visitor so I change into workout clothes and use the home gym. It’s my first time to look around, and I see that though it is obviously smaller than a regular gym, it does have many of the most important pieces of equipment. I get on the elliptical machine and, after twenty minutes of sweating it out, my cell phone rings. It’s Matthew Rourke, from Human Resources, calling to see if he can drop by in an hour. I say yes, step off the machine, and take a shower.
Matthew is not exactly what I expected. He’s the same age as Jake, probably a little younger. He’s not one of those stodgy ID-wearing types I imagine an HR person to be. Obviously, there’s no dress code at Jake’s firm. He’s in a white shirt, black jeans, and boots. He has a black-strapped Jaeger LeCoultre watch on his left wrist. His dark blonde hair is a little on the long side. He has kind, smiling eyes. He looks more like a model than a corporate type.
“Emma?” he asks while sweeping over my face with his gaze. “I’m Matt.”
“Come on in,” I say welcomingly.
He comes inside the house and blows a low whistle. He looks everywhere, trying to take it all in.
“Never been here before?” I ask.
“No. This house was built three years ago, but I just joined the firm six months ago. It’s magnificent.”
“Yes, it is.” I agree without reservation.
“How are you related to Jake?” He’s curious, and I silently curse Jake for making this my problem.
“Jake didn’t tell you?” I pry, buying myself time to think.
“No, not really. He was in a rush to go to a field inspection. He just gave me your number and told me you’ll be doing part-time work once Elise flies back to Sweden.”
“I’m staying with him for the meantime. My brother was his best friend, and he passed away recently.” There. That sounds as close to the truth as I can make it. I am really staying here for the meantime since I don’t know what my fate will be. No need to mention the marriage, which is just a legal event anyway.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says quietly. “So you’ve been friends with Jake for a long time, then?” His question sounds like he wants to know if Jake and I are strictly friends.
“Yes, since I was a baby. Charlie, my brother, and Jake were friends from first grade,” I explain further.
He seems happy with my response. “Alright, then, let’s get down to brass tacks. I have a mountain of paperwork for you to fill out. Is there anywhere we can sit so you can start writing?”
I direct him to the dining table. We sit down and, before I take out the pen he’s offered, I ask him if I can get him a drink. “Coffee, tea, juice?”
“No, thank you. I just had caffeine for lunch. But do you mind if I look around while you sign the papers? It may be my only chance to see the interiors.”
“Go ahead. Why would I mind? It is a beautiful house.” Matthew stands up to do a tour of the house on his own. In the meantime, I’m grappling with my conscience. The forms ask for my name and, though, technically, I am not lying when I put in Emma Gilmore, I know it is deceitful to check the box for single rather than married. I choose to leave it blank. If I’m asked later on, I’ll just say I missed the line and lie, if I need to.
After twenty minutes, Matthew comes back to check in on my progress and is surprised to see I’m done. “Thank you so much for letting me wander around. Jake is such an artist. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to work for his firm. I dropped out of architecture and got a degree in business administration instead. I may not have what it takes to be a good architect, but at least I get to hang around talented
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