The Amendment (The Contract 2)

I groaned as I pulled out my phone, calling Amy, explaining what had occurred.

“I need you to call CAA and get me a cab.”

“Do you want me to cancel the meeting?”

“No, they’re already not pleased it’s not Graham. I don’t want to cancel. As it is, I’m on my own since Jenna is elsewhere.”

“Do you want to take my car?” she asked.

I glanced over at her car and shuddered. I would never be able to fold my long legs into the tiny Smart car she drove. I did it once, and my legs ached for a day afterward. Add in my headache and I didn’t want to drive her car.

“No, get me a cab.”

“I can take you.”

I turned, surprised to see Brad standing beside me. I hadn’t heard him arrive.

I frowned, hesitant.

“I can come with you and sit in on the meeting.”

“Hold on,” I muttered to Amy.

“Brad—”

He interrupted me, holding up his hand. “I know, Richard. I’ll stay silent, but if you need something, I can help. You’re using the design I created. Give me the chance. I want to see how the clients react to it. Please.”

It was the first time I had heard him humble and asking. I made a fast decision.

“Cancel the cab, but get my tire fixed, please,” I said to Amy.

“On it. See you later, boss.”

I hung up and looked at Brad. “Don’t make me regret this.”

He shook his head. “I won’t.”Almost three hours later, Brad and I walked out of the building. Both of us were silent as we walked toward his car. True to his word, Brad controlled himself during the meeting, speaking when I asked him to go through his concept drawings. As I suspected, when explaining the images he created, he shone. He was articulate and passionate while discussing his work, and he listened to the feedback from the client, quickly sketching out a few ideas as he spoke. The client was impressed with his fast thinking and grasp of his idea, and I felt a glimmer of pride at Brad’s response and my own satisfaction that I had been correct. Design was where he belonged.

I slid into the car and rested my head on the cool leather. It felt good. My headache was building fast, and I hoped I could make it back to work before it hit full force. Once it did, I was useless. I dug in my pocket for the pills Katy had slipped inside earlier, ever watchful of my ongoing headaches when the weather changed. I swallowed them dry, desperate for the relief they would give me.

“Are you okay, Richard?”

I cracked open one eye and looked at Brad. He was grimacing, studying me.

“You’re really, ah, pale.”

“Bad headache coming on.”

“Want me to drive you home?”

I thought about his offer and decided to accept it. I could lie down when I got home, take some more medication, and hope the storm passed soon. I could grab a cab back to the office and work later.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“No, it’s not a problem.”

I shut my eyes in gratitude. “Thanks. Take a left and head toward Mason Street.”

“Got it. I’ve been to Jenna’s, so I know where you live.”

As we pulled out of the parking lot, the skies opened. Rain beat down in torrents, the wind picking up and pushing against the car.

“Wow,” Brad mumbled.

“Careful,” I uttered. “This road has a lot of twists.”

“Yeah, I got it.” He slowed down, and I relaxed. Jenna sent a text asking how it went, and I answered, telling her Brad had surprised me and done well. I turned to him, remembering Graham’s mantra of positive reinforcement.

“You did well today, Brad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I returned with a nod. “You were on point and polite. You handled the client well, and your response to his worries was perfect.”

“You were right,” he mused.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m comfortable explaining my work because I know it. I know how to change it, adapt to what someone wants once I grasp the concept.”

“It shows.”

“I was angry at you when Uncle Gray told me what he had in mind. I knew it was your suggestion, and I was sure you were doing it so you wouldn’t have to deal with me.”

I didn’t have the strength to argue with him, so I grunted in denial.

“Once I got over the anger, I realized I liked working with the design team. I understood their language, and they understood me.”

“Good.” I sucked in a deep breath as a wave of nausea hit me. The headache was going to be a bad one. I breathed in deeply for a few moments until the queasiness passed before I spoke again.

“You’re talented, Brad. In a different way than I am. Than Graham is. But not less. Don’t compare yourself or try to live up to him. Be your own person. You’re as important to the team as anyone. I saw your talent, and I thought it was the best direction for you. It wasn’t a punishment, and I’m glad you see that now.”