Page 18 of Lost Little Boy
Why did I tell her my problems? That was stupid. She didn’t care about my stupid issues, and I shouldn’t have burdened her with them.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Wintz. I’ll find some paper.”
Ms. Wintz smiled. “I’ll get you some paper from the copier. Do you have a pen to make a sign? How about tape?”
I glanced at my cart, and luckily, I had everything except the paper. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
She rushed away and came back as I finished the touch-up paint. She handed me the paper and smiled. “You’re very conscientious, Perry. If you run into any trouble at the office, come see me, please. We need more employees like you.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Have a good day.” I hurried to finish the job and hung the signs near the spots before I rushed downstairs to check the day’s tickets for any other jobs I needed to do before lunch. I felt good about the work I did at Grassley, though it wasn’t the job I wanted to do forever. It was a good place to work for now while I figured out my life.
I cleaned up the area and took the cart back to my supply closet, finding a note taped to the door. I pulled it down and opened it, seeing the handwriting that matched all the other notes. Wex.
I had no idea what to think about Wex’s note. I’d told him I didn’t want to go now after the confrontation with Mr. Jenkins. Why was Wex worried about filling out paperwork for the camp?
I checked my phone to see it was almost one, so I took the stairs up to the executive floor, literally running smack into Junior Grassley, the president of Grassley Industries and Wex’s father.
“Whoa! Slow down, young fella. You okay?” Mr. Grassley Senior grabbed my arm to catch me. He was a large man with gray hair and a nice tan for the end of May in Northern Virginia.
“Sorry, sir. I’m fine.” He wouldn’t let go of my arm, and I wondered if he thought I was some weirdo off the street. “I work in Janitorial Services, sir. I’m PerryCastle.”
“You’re the young man who saved my Wexler’s life. My wife and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”
Wex stepped out of his office. “Oh, hey. Thanks for coming up. Dad, this is a friend of mine, Perry. Perry, this is my father, Junior Grassley.”
“Yes, son. Young Perry just introduced himself, and I remembered he was the guy who found you behind the dumpster. I didn’t realize you were friends with—”
“Careful, Dad. When we say stupid things out loud, we can’t take them back.” Wex was giving his father the evil eye if I’d ever seen it.
“I was going to say anyone in the DC office. I think it’s great. Nice to meet you, Perry. Glad to have you on board, and thank you, again.” He turned to Wex. “I’m gone for the rest of the day. Meeting your mother for lunch at the club. You’re in charge if anything comes up. I’ll let Barbara know.”
Wex nodded and walked closer. “Let’s go to my office where we can talk. How’s your day going?”
“Okay. I thought we weren’t going to Pride Camp. I don’t want to take up any more of your time. It’s not that—”
“No. I’ve been reading about it, and I want to go. I thinkit will be good for us.” He led me to a pair of chairs in front of a cluttereddesk, turning them to face each otheras he handed me a paper bag. I opened itto find my favorite sandwich and a bag of chips.
“Us? Where’s your lunch?” Was there anus? At least Iknew why he was giving me the camping related gifts if he still wanted to go,but what was up with the RV and the Hot Wheels truck?
“I already ate. I’ll type while you eat. Sweet boy, Ibelieve there’s a very good possibility of an us, but only if you want there tobe an us. It’s completely your choice. Let’s fill out the medical papersrequired by the camp, and we’ll discuss things further tonight on the way toAudi Field. With the traffic congestion around Arlington, we’ll need to leave soonto be in our seats before the game starts.”
He looked confident in his words, while my stomach was doingsomersaults. “What do you want to talk about?”
Wex grabbed his laptop and balanced it on his thighs beforegrinning at me. “It’s nothing to worry about. We’ll get to it. Now, do you havean emergency contact?”
I shook my head.
“Who’d you list on your employment application?”
I glanced at the floor, my face flaming as I tried to avoid his eyes. “John Castle.”
“Who’s that?”
I swallowed. “I made him up. I gave HR my roommate’s old cell phone number. I don’t have anyone to use as an emergency contact.”
Wex stared at me for a moment and then typed into the laptop. “I’ll go into your personnel file and change the information when I’m done here. You could get fired for false information on an employment application.I assume you have the company insurance.” He glanced at me, so I nodded.
“Who are you listing as my emergency contact?” Seemed as though I should know.
