ON FRIDAY morning I returned to Aurora Advertising as scheduled. After chatting with Tracie for a few moments, she escorted me past a group of cubicles. We stopped outside the office of a completely bald man working at a stand-up industrial desk. He wore dark-rimmed glasses and was dressed in a gray dress shirt and a dark necktie.
He looked up and moved from behind his desk. “Hello, Mr. Evans. I’m Austin Vogel.” He extended his arm toward me and we shook hands. “You’ll be job shadowing with me today.”
“Happy to meet you. Please, call me Jack.”
“Thank you, Tracie,” he said with a kind smile.
She took her cue and made her way back to the reception area.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I asked.
“We’ll be meeting with three clients before attending the reception tonight.”
“What time is the first appointment?”
“We need to leave in twenty minutes. Did you have breakfast yet?”
“No. I decided it might be wise to hold off.”
“Perfect. We have a breakfast meeting with a couple of folks from Emerald City Coach.”
“They’re based in Eugene. Right?”
Austin nodded in appreciation. “You’ve done your homework. Good for you.”
He provided me with a brief tour of the entire office. As we wandered through the agency, I kept my eyes open for Robert or Kathleen, but both were absent. When I made mention of this, Austin nodded.
“On a day like today? Robert is conducting his business on the golf course.”
“And Kathleen?”
“She’s overseeing the last-minute arrangements for this weekend. Robert prefers her hands-on approach, and she’s excellent at planning.”
Austin paused in the hallway and turned toward me. “Do you like sushi?”
“Yes.”
Austin nodded and resumed his tour. “Kathleen reserved a private space for tonight at 5 Fusion. It’s really good.”
The day went by fast, and Austin was able to show me a great deal of Bend. By the end of the afternoon, I was getting my bearings and was more at ease with the city. When we met up with the rest of the staff and the other job candidates at 5 Fusion, I was more convinced than ever that I was on the verge of a great adventure. There was just something about Oregon, Bend in particular, that lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders.
Austin pointed to a dark-haired man standing across the room. “I need to check in with an associate about a project.”
“Should I go with you?”
“No. Why don’t you head over to the bar? Treat yourself to one of our local microbrews. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
I ordered my drink, scanned the room, and tried to decide who to approach first. After a few moments, I recognized a familiar face. Without hesitation, I strolled over to her and when her twinkling green eyes met mine, she rewarded me with a friendly smile.
“Hello, Jack.” Kathleen Brighton wore a white knee-length skirt and a white chiffon, long-sleeved, lace shirt. I was accustomed to the dark or neutral business clothes that most women wore at my office in Baltimore. Her choice of outfit was like everything else in Oregon—a breath of fresh air.
“Hello, Kathleen.” I resisted leaning in to kiss her on each cheek because the gesture was not as common between mere acquaintances in the Pacific Northwest. I wanted to be professional, so I offered her my hand instead. Kathleen’s hand was light and smooth within my grasp.
“It’s wonderful to see you again,” she said.
“You, too.” I withdrew my hand to gesture around the room. “I’m told you’re the one to thank for tonight’s reception. This place is great.”
She looked down and shrugged, almost hiding her grin. “I can’t take much credit. All I did was reserve the room. The rest was up to the restaurant.”
“Well, you have impeccable taste. I’m sure that applies to all areas of your life.”
“I don’t know about that, but it’s kind of you to say so.” She took a small sip of her San Pellegrino water. She was so composed, even her drink was a fashion accessory.
Kathleen glanced around the room. “Is your wife here?”
I shook my head. “She’s back at the hotel. With our daughter.”
“You’ve had a long day,” she commented. “You must be ready to head back and join them for dinner.”
I didn’t want Kathleen to believe that I was looking for the first excuse to leave. The atmosphere was warm, and the alcohol was flowing, but this was still part of the interview process. People like Kathleen and I were always networking. I had no doubt my people skills were being evaluated.
“We had a relaxing day yesterday. I wasn’t sure how late this would go, so they’re going to eat without me tonight.”
“I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to stop for the day. If you’d like I can help you sneak out.”
I didn’t know Kathleen well, and it was difficult to know if she was being genuine or baiting me. I opted for directness.
“As a finalist for the job, that can’t be the wisest move. Thankfully, I’m with very pleasant company.”
Kathleen paused, and her expression softened. She blinked once, her long eyelashes brushing the edge of her high cheekbones. “As I recall, you were looking forward to seeing the sights with your family. How are they enjoying Bend so far?”
“It seems to agree with them. We spent some time in Sisters yesterday, and they both like the Riverhouse. Thanks again for that suggestion.”
“You’re welcome. I used to go there for dinner sometimes during the summer.”
“Did you sit out on the patio?”
“Yes. My mother used to take me there.” Kathleen hesitated as if she had shared something without intending to. After a beat, she added, “I love to sit outside right next to the river. There are just enough rocks to make the water fascinating. You forget your troubles.”
I took a sip of my beer as I weighed Kathleen’s statement. “My wife keeps forgetting we’re in the middle of town.”
Kathleen’s face lit up. “Exactly. It’s an oasis.”
“My daughter looks for any excuse to cross the covered bridge.” I chuckled. “I think we’ve been back and forth about fifty times in the past two days.”
Kathleen maintained her smile. “That’s sweet. That must make her very happy. From now on, I’ll think of the two of you whenever I see that bridge.”
The buzz and bustle of the cocktail hour receded as our conversation progressed. The more I spoke with Kathleen, the more I enjoyed her company. During our first meeting, I’d been surprised by her intuition. This evening, I was surprised by both her modesty and her poise.
We both fell into a brief yet comfortable silence. I took another drink of my beer before picking up our discussion. “I don’t know if I should mention this, but I almost invited you over to join us for happy hour last night. I chickened out at the last moment.”
Kathleen appeared surprised by this. “I would have been tempted.” She looked over my shoulder and leaned in. “But then I would’ve had to do the same thing with the other candidates. You know, to be fair.”
We both laughed.
“Hello! Jack!” The booming, authoritative voice of Kathleen’s father broke through our intimacy, and she pulled back.
I turned to Robert. “Hello, Mr. Brighton.”
He shook my hand with strength and confidence. “Welcome back. How did things go with Austin today?”
“They went well. Thank you.” I was eager to summarize my day, but I was also concerned that Robert hadn’t acknowledged Kathleen’s presence.
“I’ve seen the best of the city today, including this place.” I gestured in the direction of Robert’s daughter. “I was just complimenting Kathleen on her choice of venue.”
“I’ve never understood the sushi craze,” Robert remarked dismissively. “But since when does my opinion matter?” Robert tucked a hand inside a trouser pocket, adding a dramatic flourish to his question.
His remark confused me and rendered me speechless.
Kathleen’s mouth twitched, and she looked nervously around the room. I’d suspected awkwardness between the two on my first visit to Oregon. Now my suspicions were confirmed.
“There are other menu options,” Kathleen replied in a clipped tone. “There’s plenty of variety to choose from.”
Robert grumbled, “Let me know where I can find it.”
Before she could respond, Austin reappeared. “I heard my name from across the room,” he said to Robert, good-naturedly. “I had to make sure I wasn’t in trouble.”
Kathleen’s reaction was quiet, but decisive. She stepped away from her father and moved to stand behind me. Robert paid no attention to this, shifting his focus toward Austin.
“Tell me what you think of Jack,” he pressed Austin. “Is Bend ready for someone like him?”
Kathleen stepped out from behind me at my other side, her expression growing severe and dark. This was only the second time I’d been around Robert and his daughter, but each time his presence had rendered her silent.
“He was prepared for today,” Austin replied, “even when I tried to throw a couple of surprises at him.”
Kathleen’s sudden mood shift did not disturb Robert, and so I tried my best to navigate the unfamiliar territory. Not wanting to offend anyone, I nodded and smiled at Austin.
“He’s a great mentor,” I told Robert. “After today, I feel right at home.”
“Agreed,” Robert smirked. “I keep telling him he should be the senior strategist.”
At the mention of her current job title, Kathleen cleared her throat—angrily—drawing a sharp gaze from her father.
“I’m sorry, Kathleen. Do you have something to say?”
I exchanged a nervous look with Austin as we awaited her reply. Kathleen turned her head slightly in my direction.
“Not especially,” she mumbled.
“I thought as much.” Robert’s voice was ice cold. Bitter.
Kathleen was now struggling to mask outright hostility. No one could deny the animosity between the two, but I pretended not to notice.
Kathleen detached from us. With a wordless retreat, she strolled over to another group of her colleagues. She never looked back. Attempting to move the conversation forward, I relayed my impressions of the businesses I’d visited during the afternoon. Once that was done, I offered my good wishes and wandered away with Austin, returning to the bar.
He nudged a full bottle of Inversion IPA in front of me. “Hey, I apologize for not paying better attention there,” he began. “I saw far too late you’d been thrown into the lion’s den.”
I exhaled and did my best to shake off the encounter. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what this weekend is all about, isn’t it? Making a good impression on the bosses?”
“Boss. Singular.”
Austin’s tone held such conviction that I couldn’t let his statement go.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong. Kathleen’s opinion can carry weight, but you shouldn’t spend a lot of your time trying to amaze her.”
“Of course, her opinion counts,” I said in a defensive tone. Austin’s remark put me on edge. “She’s going to be the owner sometime in the next decade.”
Austin kept his expression neutral but moved forward. “There’s one thing you need to understand. When it comes to Robert, nothing is set in stone. You can’t assume she’s next in line.”
Since walking away from Robert, I’d been thinking a lot about Kathleen and Robert’s dynamic. Now, I saw a chance to speak candidly about it.
“I’ve noticed some tension there, but she’s spent her entire career at the firm. She’s a senior manager. She can’t fake her way through that.”
“They have an odd relationship.” He gestured between the two of us. “Newer people, like you and me, know nothing about their personal problems. The few who do know and are still in town, say nothing. Whatever happened in that family, it wasn’t good. Whatever happened between those two took place a long time ago, and the specifics aren’t common knowledge. At least not anymore.”
Austin didn’t balk at my observations, and I appreciated his honesty. But still, I wondered if I’d pushed for too much information too soon.
“It’s none of my business.”
Austin offered a final piece of advice. “Just in case you’re offered the position, there’s something you need to know. It’s good for your career to be aware of that situation, but not so good for you to acknowledge it. It’s best to let things lie between those two.”
“Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Is that what you mean?”
Austin nodded.
He had made his point. I turned away from the bar and watched Kathleen again.
“She doesn’t strike me as cold.”
Austin angled his body so he could watch Kathleen. “You’re right. She’s not. She’s just… self-sufficient.”
I recalled how Kathleen had stepped behind me when Robert unleashed his criticism.
“It’s like she’s protecting herself against something,” I stated, more to myself than to my colleague.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a result of having Robert Brighton for a father. He’s difficult enough to work for. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be his kid.”
I grimaced at this. I knew a warning when I heard one.
If I was going to work for Robert Brighton, I had to be ready to meet demanding expectations.