Knox

Two weeks after my lunch with Jason and Krys, Rose calls me into her office as I’m packing to leave for the day. I do my best to tamp down my impatience and take a seat in the sleek leather chair across from her desk.

“We need to talk about the Purina account,” she begins without preamble.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“I’m looking over the contact, and the deliverables you’ve got here don’t look doable.”

I sit up straighter, curious now. The contract language is standard, and not subject to Rose’s approval, as far as I’m concerned.

“How so?”

“Well, it’s mostly the timeframe. I don’t think the print campaign can be completed in six months, not to mention the social media tie-ins, which aren’t sufficiently spelled out to begin with.” She drops the paperwork in front of her and shoots me a look of accusation.

“I’m not sure what to say, Rose. I’ve run several campaigns of similar size and scope, and I’ve always come in on time and under budget.”

“Well, that may have been true at your old firm, but we have a process of quality control here, and that process takes time.” She takes off her glasses and looks me in the eye. “I’d like Jason to work with you on this. He’s been here a long time, and he understands how we coordinate national campaigns like this.”

“I understand how we coordinate national campaigns like this.” I’m no longer trying to hide my irritation. She’s trying to undermine me for some reason, and I don’t know why.

“Have I done something to offend you, Rose?”

“Of course not, I’m simply trying to help. I know you’re new, and I think working alongside Jason will make things run more smoothly. Do you have a problem working with him?”

“No, of course not, but he’s already working on Hilton with Jesse, in addition to running his own accounts.”

“Don’t worry about Jason, he’s extremely capable,” she says pointedly.

I sigh, scratching the back of my neck. I can tell that arguing will get me nowhere, so I give her a curt nod and stand to leave.

“Let’s meet tomorrow, the three of us, just to touch base.” Her smile is wide and fake.

“Sounds good. Have a nice evening,” I murmur, and leave as quickly as I can.

***

When I get home I throw on my workout clothes and go for a jog, feeling the frustrations of the day release their hold on me as my feet pound rhythmically on the pavement. After dinner, I pull out my phone and text Jason.

Knox: Hey, had a strange meeting with Rose after work today.

Jason: Was she hiding in the backseat of your car?

Knox: Ha-no, but she’s questioning the Purina contract.

Jason: What do you mean, questioning it? Why was she even reading it?

Knox: Idk, but she wants you to help me now.

Jason: Help you? WTF?

Knox: ???

Jason: Bitch be crazy.

I laugh, opening a beer and flipping on the TV in the living room.

Knox: Anyway, be prepared for a meeting in the morning.

Jason: Thx for the heads up. BTW, I might be out on Friday, unless I can think of a way to avoid a trip to Texas over the long weekend.

I wince, remembering his shithead of a father.

Knox: I can come up with a client emergency if you want.

Jason: I might take you up on that. Later, Chadwick

Knox: Night, Dash

I wonder if I’m being too familiar, using my old nickname for him, but it’s too late to worry now. My mind wanders back to college, when Jason came out to his parents and they were such close-minded assholes about it. I felt terrible because I’d encouraged him to be honest with them, assuming they’d be as cool and accepting as my own parents had been. But I’d been wrong, and he’d been crushed.

It’s almost a decade later, and I still feel guilty. I feel nothing but guilt about that time in my life. I wanted to be there for Jason, for my mom, for my sisters…I wanted to succeed in advertising, to make my father proud. I wanted to be strong, and confident, and to stop having panic attacks before every job interview I went on the year after I graduated from college. But I kept failing, and the guilt kept growing.

I drain my beer and try to clear my mind. That was a long time ago. I’m no longer that lonely, depressed kid. Mom, the girls, Jason-they all survived, and now they’re thriving.

So why does the guilt still linger?