“Look, before you say anything, thanks for the beer but I’m just not interested.” She said before I could even say hello. She barely looked at me. I assumed because she was embarrassed. The Universe was throwing me a curveball and I was liking it.
“Well, that’s okay.” I said quietly. I didn’t want to scare this one away. “I just thought it looked like you had a rough day and could use a kind gesture.”
That got her attention. Finally, she looked at me. I smiled and stuck out my hand.
“Joshua Hewitt.”
She was a little hesitant at first. I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking she did need a kind gesture. Yes, he was being a gentleman. Okay, I’ll shake his hand.
“Natasha Morgan.” She said. I held her hand in both of mine. It was small and soft cocooned in my grasp and yet there was a strength there. She didn’t try to pull her hand away. In fact, I had the feeling this was the first bit of human contact she had in a long time.
“Miss Morgan, I couldn’t help but notice you bringing your office supplies with you. Bad day?” I watched her swallow hard. Her throat bounced and she was obviously biting her tongue so as not to break down and cry in public.
“Yeah, you could say that. Call me Natasha.”
“Natasha, do you mind if I sit?”
She shook her head and scooted herself over in cute way as if making room on her stool…. somehow made room for me, too.
“If it’s any consolation I have been laid off, too.”
She smiled a little.
“You ever been fired?” she asked, as if she half expected me to recoil in horror at the very idea.
“Yup. In fact, my own brother fired me.”
That cracked her shell just a little. Her eyes were wide and she showed a sympathy for me I had never seen from anyone before. Taking her glass of beer and a small sip she shook her head in disbelief.
“Your own brother? What did you do?” She asked in a hushed voice. “Steal his woman?”
“How’d you guess?” I replied.
“That is the only thing that could break apart two brothers.” She said, taking another sip of her drink. “Are you still with her?”
I shook my head no.
We talked a little more. I told her where I went to college, my favorite football team, the last movie I saw. She listened and sipped her beer making it last, so I could tell she wouldn’t have to take the one I offered. She was the kind of woman who didn’t want to owe anyone. What a rare find.
In a few sentences she had told me she was a secretary and why she had gotten fired. I was right. It was because of how she looked. I told her that too and watched a
pleasant pink blush creep up her cheeks.
“Look, I know we just met but I might be able to help.” I said, reaching inside my suit jacket and taking out a gold business card holder. Flipping it open I pulled out a card. Then taking out my matching gold pen I wrote a number on the back of the card and handed it to Natasha.
“Monday, call this number and ask for Mrs. Ogawa in Human Resources. Tell her Joshua Hewitt told you to call. I can’t guarantee anything will come of it but…you never know.”
I almost laughed at the look on her face. It was as if she were a dog hearing a high-pitched whistle.
“What? You mean call about maybe a job?” she asked, stunned.
“Yeah, like I said. I can’t promise anything but someone with your experience and background I think would be a real asset. What’s the harm in calling, right?”
Tears came into her eyes. It wasn’t because she was so moved by my kindness. I knew that. She had had a bad day. When she was walked out of that building she felt like she was an inch tall if that. Giving a little person like her a boost would pay off in dividends.
“Thanks.” Was all she was able to squeak out. She took her cocktail napkin and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“Would you call me and let me know if Mrs. Ogawa can help you?” I asked as if I didn’t want to hassle or inconvenience her.