was getting his perspective outside of his usual blowing up and then hassling me, all because Jack had said he liked me at the first goddamn meeting. Why had Sam been so fixated on that stupid interaction? I couldn't figure it out.
I was finding myself caught in the middle of something pretty damn serious. I wanted to support my label—it was my job, after all—and I wanted to support Jack. Based on what Sam said, the two things apparently were mutually exclusive, and MCI would lose money if they signed with Jack's unwavering terms, further obscuring the best possible solution. One way or another, Sam would get what he needed out of the deal, even if it all went to his legal fees and I wasn't sure how to feel about that. What about the rest of us?
In a way, it felt like I was in quicksand.
I realized that this was exactly what I was hiding from. This was the reason for the break, the reason for my indecision and fear of getting carried away. This was my job, and it sounded like it might not be around much longer if Jack didn't compromise his values and sign with MCI.
I wouldn't beg him either. If I was so concerned about making it on my own, I didn't want to rely on him for that support, especially when I pushed him away so I could think this through.
Why couldn't the answer be more clear?
This was a new curve ball—and it was terrifying. What if I lost this job and lost Jack? I'd have literally nothing here. I wanted both things, but what happened if I couldn't have either?
After a few minutes of silence—what the hell could I have said back to Sam, anyway?—I excused myself and said I wanted to get back to work after wishing him the best. Just a stupid platitude.
"Thanks again for the food," I added. Sam gave me a solemn nod as I wrapped up the remains of my giant sandwich and left the break room. This whole impromptu discussion had really put me on edge. I felt especially bad that he had paid for my lunch at all given the state of things.
What the hell was I going to do?
***
My desk seemed lonely, despite the fact that I had plenty of work to keep me company. Every time I totaled up a sales column, I thought about what Sam had said about the numbers being that much greater in the past. I kept imagining the huge number of zeroes extending beyond the page onto the desk and then spilling onto the floor...
This wasn't going to be easy, and frankly, I was going to need some outside perspective—and not Jesse's this time—if I was going to get anywhere. I still didn't want to ask Jack just because of this development, especially not when we were supposed to be apart. I actually cared about the relationship more than this, but my professional urges had led me to this treacherous point. Even if it wasn't actually treacherous, it felt that way.
I was sympathetic toward Sam's situation as well. Honestly, I didn't want to take sides in business transactions I barely understood. I wanted everyone to be happy. Why was that so difficult? Wasn't there something that would satisfy everyone's requirements? Jack sounded just as bull-headed as Sam, and I wasn't sure if I should be critical of either of them.
I thought about it around two hundred times per hour for the rest of the day, my head like a piece of dilapidated machinery that would soon be permanently out of service at the rate it was working. Sam didn't bother me again, another reason why I got so carried away. And then my phone buzzed. It was a text from Jack.
Him: Come with me on a quick weekend trip. Please don't say no.
I set the phone on the table like it weighed a thousand pounds. Opportunity had come knocking in the best possible way, but I still felt apprehensive about giving up on my plan. Still, despite my workplace goals, I couldn't stop thinking about him each and every night—that, and my hope that the deal would work itself out naturally was evaporating fast.
Me: Okay, I'll go. But no tricks.
My eyes were on duty watching for Sam. He never left his office.
Him: I promise. Pack before work. A car will be there to get you at 5:30 on the dot. See you tomorrow, Effie.