Page 101 of Out on a Limb
“I’ll put some time on your calendar to discuss this in more detail. Walker, let’s have a meeting this afternoon to go over your strategy for the media plan.”
“What am I doing here?” Walker asked himself again, this time he didn’t whisper it.
“Do you have someplace else to be?” Patricia asked.
“Not here.” He said it without thinking, but it was a load off his chest. He instantly felt better, even though he just dug himself deeper.
“Excuse me?”
Cameron was right. Life didn’t end at thirty-six. His fingertips tingled with vitality, with life worth living.
“This is not the place for me.”
“I see. Is there another account you’d want to transfer to?”
Walker shook his head no.
“I’ve tried, but I will never care about this job like you do.” He might have been unmotivated at his job, but a part of him admired Patricia’s drive and work ethic. She knew she was in the right place. This was her dream. “I’ve learned a lot from you, but I need to move on. I will email you my letter of resignation when I get back to my desk.”
She struggled for an answer. Walker enjoyed watching her get thrown off balance. Lucy’s face was bleached with shock, but she had a hint of her supportive smile somewhere in there.
“If that’s how you’d like to proceed, okay then. Do you have another job lined up?”
He shook his head no, throwing her for another loop.
“Are you at least giving two weeks notice?”
“Yes.” Walker envisioned leaving in a blaze of glory, some triumphantJerry Maguiremoment. But Patricia and his co-workers didn’t deserve that. They weren’t terrible people, and all things considered, this wasn’t a terrible office. It just felt that way when you knew you were meant to be someplace else.
Patricia held out her hand, and he shook it. “Well then, good luck.”
“Thank you.” Walker could tap dance right now. He knew the fear and uncertainty would sink in and gnaw at him soon, but he let himself take in this moment when the world seemed infinite and full of new paths and possibilities.
As he ambled back to his desk, he felt his wrists. They were free.
CHAPTER thirty-three
Cameron
From one empty room to another. Cameron pulled his suitcases into the corner of his new bedroom. He looked out the narrow window. It faced an alley, but in the distance, he could make out a lone palm tree.
His new roommates knocked at his door. Neon green sunglasses sat atop Grayson’s bleach blond hair, and his waifish figure had muscle definition to it, which he showed off by walking around the apartment shirtless. Unlike Grayson, Porter had brown, wavy hair and was shedding the last of his college weight judging by his one-size-too-snug polo.
“Welcome to the West Coast.” Grayson pulled Cameron into a handshake-hug. “How do you feel?”
“Tired.” Cameron had made great time driving across the country. It involved him missing most historical landmarks, although he did pass a sign for the Grand Canyon, which was close enough. When he was seventy, he would RV through America and take in the sites.
“How was the drive?” Porter asked.
“Long. It didn’t help that I hit a bad stretch of traffic on ten.”
“It’s The Ten.” Grayson shook his head while reading his phone. “People in LA take their highways seriously. The Ten, The Four-Oh-Five, The One-Ten, The One-Oh-One, The Five.”
Cameron made a mental note. He stared at the emptiness and realized something. “I don’t have a bed to sleep on.”
“Don’t worry. I have an air mattress. And by the looks of it, Grayson may not be spending the night here, so his bed will be free.” Porter read over Grayson’s shoulder. “Which dick pic have you fallen in love with today?”
Grayson pushed him away. “In his profile, he says that he likes Shakespeare.”
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