CHAPTER 18
Carol
I bury myself in the few contracts I have. They all look the same. Same extremely complex terms with no positive outcome in sight for the “investor.”
“They’re crushing these guys,” I say to myself. “I bet these guys have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into and by the time they do it’s way too late.
I check Google for anything I can relate to foul play on the part of my former employer. Nothing.
I check some business and website registry records. The company’s new!
That’s it. They’re a chop shop. Here today. Take your cash. Gone tomorrow.
My phone rings.
I look and see a Santa Fe number, but it’s one I don’t recognize and don’t have stored in my contracts.
“Hello,” I say.
“Hello. I’m trying to get ahold of a Carol Walker.”
“This is she,” I say.
“Hi Carol. I’m Susan from Santa Fe Art International. We’ve recently created a position for a global representative here and we’re looking to bring someone on to help us promote the work of Georgia O’Keefe worldwide.”
This is totally out of nowhere. “Well, um…I’m not sure what to say, Susan. I hadn’t really been looking for that kind of employment.”
“If you’re not interested I understand. I definitely don’t want to take up your time if you’re not, but if you are I’d love to tell you more.”
I pause. Where is this coming from? How did this woman get my phone number? This seems like too much of a coincidence.
“I am interested. Thanks. I’d love to hear more.”
Over the next few minutes Susan proceeds to explain everything. The opportunity sounds amazing although it’s not really my field of study. It comes with some nice perks like a gym membership, but there’s one perk that strikes me as too tailored to my interests to just be random. There’s an option to take free advanced horse riding lessons or have free weekly riding sessions outside of town included. Hmmm. How did that get in there?
I tell her I’ll think about it and I’ll get back with her within forty-eight hours. She tells me I’m the only one she’s been in contact with and will keep it that way until she hears back from me.
She said a friend referred my name to her. I didn’t press for the source, but I’m wondering if it’s Colt or my dad. I can see reasons both might be interested in me coming back home, but those reasons would be totally different.
I sit back down on the couch and try to process what she said, but my mind keeps being drawn back to those contracts.
I spend the rest of the day reading through them and researching the structures they’ve set up. Finally I can’t take it anymore.
I Google a very particular number. I stare at it a good three or four minutes.
Part of me says to sleep on it, to make sure.
The other part of me knows I’m right, even though I don’t have experience with this kind of thing.
I reach for my phone and tap the numbers on the dial pad.
Now it’s down to two buttons. Green to call or red not to.
I think about the ramifications of each. If I’m wrong and this sweeps the nation I’m doomed. If I’m right it may not be much better. Big business will absolutely hate me.
I just think of all those brave women who have come forward lately with their stories about any number of things. Sure most were about sexual harassment, but the bigger picture is they are all about stopping people with power from abusing that power. It’s the kind of injustice I hate the most.
I stare at my phone a bit longer. It’s now or never.