Page 8 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
“I’d want to believe you, and I’d be naive to accept that on face value.”
Linda chuckled. “Fair.” The elevators opened. Ellisandre stood from their seat and passed Linda a take-out bag from a nearby restaurant. It smelled amazing. Collin’s stomach growled. He was just going to have to live with it though because there was no time left to go feed himself between here and his work. He’d already eaten his last protein bar for lunch.
Linda paused in front of the reception desk. Ellisandre sat back down and opened a novel, ignoring them.
“We make a lot of money, Collin. And we do it quietly. My brother and I had a lot of money to start with, not when we were young, but after our aunt died, we were the only heirs of her husband’s fortune. At least the only ones left in the will. So, we had a lot to work with. And we’ve done very well with it. But we know what the other side is like. And we want better. A widely better solution. But we can’t do that on our own. So…that’s where people like you come in. And people like Damian. And others. My brother wants you in his personal circle.”
“Like Damian.”
“Yes. Like Damian.”
“What does that mean?”
“Tell me what you thought of the projects you saw today. Where do you see yourself in all that?”
“I think you did your background checks on me and my internet history and cherry-picked my dreams. Sustainable housing, environmental stabilization, mental health built into cities, social justice in business, educational reform. I liked all of it.”
“But where do you see yourself in it?”
“I…” Collin dropped his chin. “Ma’am. I don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Collin looked around at the clean glazed glass and stylish office floors and scuffed his shoes against each other. Then he looked up and straight in her eyes. “I’m not clean and focused and confident, like you all. I’m tired. My shoes are about to fall apart. I still send money back to my mom, somehow, because every month I’m afraid she won’t make rent and keep Alice in school. She might have survived cancer, but I’m not sure if we’ll survive the debt collectors from the bills. When I graduate, I’ll have a pile of debt, too. I’m not even going to have the time to look like any of you, let alone meet people and do what needs to be done to move these projects forward. I’ll be working two, three, jobs, if I’m lucky. I sleep four hours a night and drink coffee anywhere I can get it for free. I want to dream about all this stuff. I care about it. I do. But I use way too much plastic for cheap takeout. I can’t afford a subscription service to buy laundry tablets that don’t put more plastic into the environment. All my clothes are probably bleeding microplastics into the environment every time I wash them, and I totally benefit from cheap, underpaid labor because I can’t afford to pay someone what they’re worth.”
Collin drew in a deep breath. Tears stung the edges of his eyes. “Maybe, if you’d found me sooner. But I’m tired, Ms. Reevesworth. I can’t do more. And everything you showed me is more, for really good causes, but I have to cover the basics. And I know that means the planet is going to burn down, and we’re all losing our human rights, but…”
“But right now, you need to eat.” Ellisandre stood up and took the paper bag from Linda’s hand and pushed it into Collin’s. “Go work your shift. Then quit. I need an assistant.”
“An assistant?” Linda’s voice rose an octave.
“Yes.” Ellisandre sashayed back to their desk. “You said I could have one last week.”
“Oh, right.”
“No offense, I can’t take on another job.”
“It pays twenty-five an hour.” Ellisandre picked up their book and ran their finger down the page. “Your shift starts at three p.m. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and ends at nine p.m.. And starts at nine a.m. on Saturdays. Hours that day will vary. You can keep your bartending job, but tonight is your last shift valeting cars.”
Collin’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Ellisandre looked over the edge of their book. “I’ll have a uniform for you tomorrow. See you at three. Goodbye.”
“See you at three.” Linda nodded and turned away toward her office.
“I can’t quit a job without a formal offer of employment in writing,” Collin sputtered.
Ellisandre lowered their book. “You almost hurt my feelings. Fine. You’ll have one, in your email, within the hour. I trust you can e-sign on your phone.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Ellisandre was as good as their word. The email came through in thirty minutes, and there was a new set of clothes waiting for Collin when he arrived the next day: chocolate slacks, a blue shirt, and brown loafers. They were all a fit. Ellisandre had had three sizes of shoes waiting. The ones not chosen would be sent back.
Collin came out of the office bathroom running his hands down the sleeves of the shirt. “I thought the office dress code might be black.”
Ellisandre shook their head. “Black is my color. Blue is yours. At least it is today. Now sit. There are about a hundred million data points to sort, and you will be sorting them.”
Collin swallowed all questions. Ellisandre pointed to a screen and keyboard set up beside theirs. “This is yours.”
