I’m so nervous to start at the bank again that I changed my outfit three times. I'm shaking the whole drive there. It’s embarrassing to have to walk into your old workplace after getting fired, especially when there’s someone that replaced me, and now I am below them. To distract myself, I try to think of Scott. He has two callback interviews today. They weren’t supposed to be so soon, but he asked specifically if they could be. He can’t afford to not have a job, so he needs to start working somewhere as soon as possible. Personally, I hope he gets the job at the cafe because then he has the opportunity to get tips, and with that award-winning smile he will. He also has an interview with the CinnaMan bakery two towns over. Apparently he “wouldn’t mind the drive”, but I reminded him that he’ll be wasting money from his paycheck on gas, so it’s not really worth it.
He promised to text me as soon as both interviews are over with.
Anxiously, I walk into work and find Mr. Davis’s office. He had sent me an email explaining that he would like to re-familiarize me with what I’ll be doing, and therefore, I should grab him and he will show me where my new office is and introduce me to the changes (whether people or policies) that I will have to adjust to.
“Ah, hello, Mitch,” his deep voice bellows and bounces off the walls of his office. He shakes my hand. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you, sir,” I reply timidly.
He gestures for me to take a seat on the other side of his desk as he sits back down. “I just want to review a few things with you and then tell you the plan for today. I prepared for your arrival by making some appointments for you to get you right back into routine.”
“Thank you so much,” I say with intense gratitude. If it weren’t for Mr. Davis, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to make a comeback. I owe him a lot right now.
He passes some papers over to me where some numbers are highlighted. “I highlighted what you need to especially look over. For example, we are required to put the client’s name through a separate system before giving them any loans for mortgage, which is new. If we don’t and they are untrustworthy, we are liable to corporate.”
I nod, reading over some of the differences. Nothing I can’t handle. He gives me a chance to read over them thoroughly (there’s only five or so), and then he starts to review the job requirements. It’s nice for him to refresh my memory, but I know once I get back into it, it will be simple, so I only half-listen and let my mind stress about meeting the girl who has my nice, uncramped office. “Follow me,” Mr. Davis instructs, standing and leading me out into the rest of the bank. “I’m going to introduce you to Ron Farris and Kirstin Maldonado. Ron is our new financial manager.” He reaches the door that is labeled Ronald Farris and knocks even though it’s wide open. “Ron, I’d like you to meet Mitch Grassi, our renewed private banker in charge of loans and some other minor things.”
“Renewed?” Ron questions, extending his hand out to me. I give it as firm of a shake as I can manage with a clammy hand.
Mr. Davis nods. “He used to work here, and now he’s back for round two.”
Ron is older, maybe mid-fifties, with a tight smile and the beginning of wrinkles behind his glasses. Just looking at his face and neck I can tell he’s fit, and when my eyes reach his chest, his pecs are just muscular enough to make his button-up protrude out. Scary.
“Glad to hear it,” he chuckles lightly, but it doesn’t sound real. He places his hands on his hips. His pants are a light shade of red and his fingers rest on his brown belt. “Excited to be back?”
I clear my throat. “Um, yeah. Yeah. I think it will be better when I get comfortable in my own office.”
Mr. Davis gives a slow, even nod. “Well, there’s one more person you have to meet.” He turns to Ron. “See you later, Ron.”