at the bar top.
I met Adam when I moved to New York. He was sitting on a bench in Central Park, writing in his notepad. It was the only bench available, and my feet were killing me. I wasn’t about to sit on the freezing ground, so I sat by him. I’ll never forget how he scooted as far away from me as possible the moment my ass hit the seat. Before becoming a true New Yorker who didn’t give a shit, I considered myself to be chronically polite, so I asked him what he was working on. I wasn’t expecting him to be so talkative. Adam went into an hour-long monologue about a physics class he was taking at NYU. He lived in Brooklyn and was as loyal as they came. I liked Adam. He was good to me—sometimes a bit too honest, but still good to me. He was never late for our meetups. He always made sure I got home safely and texted me about the weather every morning to make sure I was properly dressed—a habit he started when I first moved here and he was annoyed with my lack of preparedness. The only reason I brought an umbrella with me most days was because Adam pestered me about it.
“Vaughn gave it to his baby brother. The guy is barely qualified. He just graduated. I looked at his file, Adam. His GPA was a two point five. He spent most of his senior year on academic probation, and now they want to hire him as managing editor for the Jet Times? I’ve been working here for seven years. Seven years! I’ve busted my ass. Hell, I’ve already been doing the job for Vaughn without the title! And now he’s going to be working alongside his baby brother who knows absolutely nothing about this business, and who’s going to be left to pick up the slack? Me.”
Adam rocked on his stool slightly. “I can understand why that would be frustrating,” he stated.
“I just feel like it doesn’t matter what I do. It’s all about who you know or who your parents are. I thought Vaughn was better than that.”
Vaughn Richards, my boss, was the owner of our publication as well as the editor in chief. His wealthy socialite mother promoted him just before I started working there when I graduated from college. Vaughn ran the Jet Times seamlessly and ethically. When he wasn’t overseeing the newspaper, he was in the field. Investigative journalism was always his first love. He liked rolling up his sleeves and diving into the story while traveling the world. I honestly didn’t know how he did it all.
Adam glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He was wearing a soft red sweater and his signature denim jeans. The bar we were in was decorated with flashing Christmas lights, but it was still quiet. The evening rush hadn’t started yet.
“Did you know that by age thirty, about twenty-two percent of American sons will be working for the same employer as their fathers?” Adam asked before pulling out his trusty notebook. “It’s also more common in the United States than anywhere else. The Jet Times is owned by your boss’s mother, right?”
I picked up my cocktail and took a drink. “Yes. But that still doesn’t make it right. I’m not even surprised,” I choked out after gulping some of the strong concoction. “The glass ceiling isn’t made of glass. It’s steel. I should have taken the month off like my parents suggested and gone to South Korea with them to visit my grandparents for the holidays.”
Adam picked up his room temperature glass of water and took a small sip. “But we have Christmas plans. Did you get the itinerary I sent you?”
I smiled. “Yes. I put it all in my calendar, down to the hot cocoa at 9:06 Christmas Eve,” I replied sarcastically. “Also, I might need to veto the matching pajamas you picked out.”
“But the onesie is cozy and had four thousand five-star reviews for softness on Amazon.” Adam looked appalled that I didn’t like the flannel zip up pajamas he’d picked.
I’d already ordered the damn onesie but liked challenging Adam. It was good for him. “At least I still have a week and a half off. Not even Christmas in New York can brighten my mood. Isn’t it supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year?”
“Technically no, stress levels are at an all-time high during the holiday season.