Thursday, January 10, 2019

Chapter Three: Be Yourself

Chapter Three: Be Yourself


(Ryan)

I spent a good week and a half kicking my own butt and debating ways that I could get in touch with Stan. I had some doozies. One of my craziest ideas was where I went to Yeger Enterprises, asked to see him and walked into his office saying, “Hey, remember me?”, but I didn’t want to give him a stalker vibe so I tossed it out and tried to think of sanner ones.





Like asking Trev for Stan’s number. Makes perfect sense, right? But here’s the crazy thing: Even though I thought I’d lost out on what might’ve been my only chance to talk to him and wanted to find a way to contact him, I couldn’t actually bring myself to do it.  





Each day back at Bridgeport, doubt quickly started to chisel away at any sureness I felt about what happened that weekend and I kept telling myself crazy things to help numb my disappointment. Maybe I hadn’t really felt anything when we shook hands. I could’ve imagined it. Up until that point, my attention had been on trying to mask my interest so it was completely possible that I saw or felt something that hadn’t happened.

Those smiles that popped out from his beard. . .it could’ve been him being polite. Maybe he smiled at everyone that way. I wouldn’t know, since my only interactions with him were that weekend and while I could’ve observed how he smiled at everyone else, I’d been too preoccupied with him smiling at me.

There was also the fact that he was Trev’s friend too and he could’ve asked Trev for my number.  But since I was too chicken to do it myself, I made up excuses about him not having time, or maybe he was like me and hadn’t worked up the courage to ask. But that didn’t sound like him. I barely knew him but I could already tell that he wasn’t the type of man who lacked confidence.


I like to tell myself that I would’ve eventually given in and asked Trev for Stan’s number but the truth is, I’ll never know because someone beat me to the punch. 


Two days before an event I was attending for the Bucks Organization I met with the General Manager to go over final details. Every once in awhile, the Organization held or participated in events and sometimes they needed to have a team rep there. Over half the time it’s the quarterback, since they end up being the face of the team and it’s typically who event organizers want.







I usually liked attending them. It gave me another chance to meet people and to learn new things, but the last thing I wanted to do was show up at them not knowing exactly what I was heading into. So as I took a seat in one of the brown leather chairs across from Jimmy’s desk I attentively listened to what he had to say: A car would pick me up at six-thirty, they would buzz the apartment when they got there, it was a suit and tie event and it was to announce the corporate sponsor for the new workout facility.

At that point, I still didn’t know who the sponsor was. There was usually an agreement between the two organizations to not leak any information before the event. But with it being only two days before, I hoped that Jimmy would go ahead and tell me.





“If you can, can you tell me who the sponsor is?” 

His eyes narrowed like they always did when he was trying to make a decision. Guessing by how quickly he nodded, it must not have been a hard one to make. “You can’t tell anyone.” He warned me with a pointed finger and I held up my hands, letting him know that I wouldn’t spill the beans. 





“It’s Yeger Enterprises.” He said it like it wasn’t a big deal; meanwhile, I tried to keep my composure as I asked, “Do we know who will be there?” My strained and weird sounding voice tried to betray the anxiousness that I felt festering in my chest but Jimmy didn’t seem to notice and settled back into his chair as he answered.

“The son, Stan Yeger. I think he does most of these kind of events with his dad getting older. He was the one that sat in on most of the meetings with the organization.” HIs brow raised with another thought. 

“He was actually the person who suggested that you be the team rep. He was most adamant about it too.” He sat up and started sifting through papers then, which I was glad for since it kept him from seeing my face as I was bombarded with confusion, relief and shock.  

I wasn’t particularly interested in publicizing my interest in Stan at that point, and wanted nothing more than to get out of Jimmy’s office as fast as I could. Mercifully, he announced that he needed to get going so he wouldn’t be late for his daughter’s recital. I’m pretty sure I failed miserably at trying to look like I wasn’t bolting out of his office and escaped to the only place I could think of where I could be alone.





It wasn’t the most homey, but the bathroom just down the hall from Jimmy’s office was the closest place where I could lock the door and have some privacy. Of course the only seating choice was the toilet so I opted to stand and tried to steady myself by gripping the sink as I tried to make sense out of the jumbled mess that was tumbling around in my head. 

Holy shit, was the first thought that popped out from the others; quickly followed by the one word that kept repeating in my head. Adamant. Stan hadn’t just wanted me at the event, he’d been adamant about it. 





It’s amazing what hearing one word can do to a person. It can squander dreams or breathe new life into them which is what happened to me. I looked up at the mirror right as the weight of everything hit me and was shocked by what I saw. My face and eyes were lit up with an excitement that I hadn’t realized was missing. My guess, was that it had been about a year since I’d felt or seen anything like it. 

I realized then that I’d been my own worst enemy; keeping myself closed off from experiences; or as Trev would put it: putting myself out there. And like anything valuable that was found, I wanted to make sure that I didn’t lose the possibility of happiness again. 

You only get one shot at making a first impression, but every once in a great while something or someone smiles upon you and gives you a second chance. And it’s pretty much guaranteed that if you didn’t feel the pressure the first time around, you’ll feel it the second. So as I got ready the night of the event, I paid extra attention to how I looked.





But even more important than that, to me, was making sure that I didn’t cause a repeat of what happened at Trev’s. No second guessing mine or his feelings, or hoping that he noticed my interest by directing looks at him from across a room or a piano. I needed to actually talk to him.

Usually, that’s not a problem. Like I’ve said, I like to talk to people, but it’s a completely different thing when you know it’s with someone you’re wanting a second chance with. It made me feel incredibly self conscious about what I should or shouldn’t say and I spent most of the car ride going over possible conversation starters and answers to questions I figured he’d ask.

Thankfully, as the car pulled up to the doors of Yeger Tower, I heard my Dad’s voice inside my head. It whispered something that he’d told me hundreds of times when I was growing up, but honestly, I found it to still be true even as an adult. “Be yourself.” 





It was one of those moments when I thanked God that I had the parents that I did and as I walked into the elevator and turned around to face the closing doors, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and made up my mind. If Stan was going to like me, it was going to have to be the real, and sometimes awkward version. 





Like the one that stood there in the doorway with his mouth hanging slightly open after opening the set of doors. The room itself was pretty common. It was large, with two adjacent walls filled with windows and another with a slightly raised stage and a podium smack dab in the middle of it. 

It was the atmosphere that made it unique. Dimmed, colored lights replaced the usual blinding fluorescent ones that you see in most corporate offices, casting a relaxing purple and blue hue over the room. High, dark wood table tops dotted the gray wood floors, giving people spots to mingle and a place to set their drinks. It all helped to create a laid back feeling that I’d never seen at a corporate event.

People were scattered everywhere; talking, smiling, even laughing. It felt more like an intimate gathering of friends than an event to announce the partnership of two organizations, which went right along with what I’d heard and read about Stan having a more laid back approach to conducting business.





Thinking of Stan, I started scanning the room and the different groups. There was one in the corner near the edge of the stage that was larger than the others. I couldn’t see who was at the center of it, since a large crowd had gathered around them. But as lively as they were, I would’ve laid money down that that was where Stan was and it was where I wanted to be.

It was just my bad luck that Jimmy spotted me mid-stride on my way there and escorted me over to the Bucks group gathered at a nearby table. It reminded me that as much as I wanted to find Stan, I had a job to do, and as we stood around the small table Jimmy reminded us what it was.





We were to look interested when speeches were made, to mingle with those present and give everyone an overall positive impression of the organization and the team. Which I had no problem doing. I just wanted to do it after finding Stan. 

Which I eventually did, partially thanks to Jimmy. I watched as he made his way over to where I’d guessed Stan was and like a stage curtain being pulled back, the crowd around him opened up, revealing the star of the show.  

He wore a black tie and a charcoal gray suit that was tailored to fit him; showing off his fit, masculine frame. The one I tried so hard not to look at that night at Trev’s but eyed somewhat discreetly then. 

The color made his steely eyes even more piercing, reminding me of the first time I saw them. How they’d focused completely on me, making my heart kick into overdrive and almost causing me to become a bumbling idiot and embarrassing myself. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, being so tongue tied that you can’t carry on a conversation with someone, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want to experience it again.

That would have to at least wait until after the speeches. As instructed, our group took position in front of the podium when we saw Jimmy and Stan move into position to take the stage. They stood at the bottom of a short set of stairs, talking until Stan motioned for Jimmy to go ahead of him and as he took one last look at the group before following, his eyes locked onto mine.





It sounds completely cliche to say that everything and everyone else in the room faded to the background, but they did. For a split second, there was only him, me, his sharp eyes and beaming smile. They completely pulled me in, convincing me that I had his complete attention and that he was just as happy as I was that we’d finally spotted each other.  

But it wasn’t meant to last. He had a speech to deliver and I had to keep up appearances. Which included acting interested in Jimmy and his speech once Stan handed over the mic. A thing that was easier said than done with Stan standing slightly behind him. 





Finally, the speeches were over. I’d been stopped once from talking to Stan and didn’t plan on being thwarted a second time. I plotted and set course to the stairs when the final applause started, trying my best to smile and politely push past people who called my name. It wasn’t the first time that night that I thought that the whole room was against us. And it wouldn’t be the last. 

Unbeknownst to me, the rest of the Bucks’ reps had followed my lead through the crowd. Smart cookies. Let the really tall guy push a path through the crowd and fill in behind him. I didn’t know if I should be impressed or slightly annoyed with their cleverness. What won me over was realizing that each one that filed past, thanked Stan and shook his hand with a little too much excitement, was one less person to overhear our conversation.







Stan remained gracious and patient, taking time to talk with each one. Even with Jimmy who continued to thank him over and over again. I started to wonder how much longer the never ending thank you train could continue, when a guy seemed to appear out of nowhere and skillfully directed Jimmy’s attention to someone of interest across the room.

I stared after them for a second, shaking my head and chuckling at the sight of Jimmy taking orders from someone else before it dawned on me. There were no friends watching our every move or colleagues trying to get our attention. We were finally alone. . .and I was staring at Jimmy. 

I corrected course and came face to face with Stan’s twinkling eyes and lopsided grin. They pointed to him spouting off a witty comment; which was why his first words confused me.





“I may owe you an apology. I might’ve had an idea that I’d see you tonight when we were at Trev’s.” The playful smile that made my insides feel like Jello faded as he continued. 

“This shindig’s been in the works for a couple months and your name was mentioned more than once as a possible team rep. Although in my defense, I didn’t know that I’d be meeting you at Trev’s dinner.” His teasing smile returned and so did the Jello feeling.





“There wasn’t much of a chance to talk that night. . .” I joked, trying to hide how nervous I was and giving both of us an excuse.

His smile widened and he chuckled through his nose, something that I thought was cute. “True. It is hard to get a word in around Trev.” His face relaxed and eyes warmed when I laughed at his joke. He was better at hiding it than I was, but he was nervous and realizing it made me feel a little more at ease.


Our conversation was put on hold when a server presented us with a tray of what I guessed were appetizers. I’m not a food expert by any means, but I have one rule when it comes it: If I can’t identify it, I don’t eat it and I politely declined, even though my stomach was begging me to give in. 

“I knew we should’ve changed the menu. . .” He mumbled with a disgusted look on his face as another tray passed by.

“Don’t you pick it?”





He shook his head and shrugged. “It’s an ongoing debate. . .” He turned and gave me a half smile. “The short version of the story is that my Dad and I have differing opinions on the kind of food we should offer. His usually wins out, since he’s the boss and I’ve learned to pick my battles.” His nose scrunched up he shrugged again. “Just means that I’ll have to grab something on the way home.”





“Wanna grab something together?” I was just as shocked to hear myself say it as he was but I justified my rash offer by telling myself that we were both hungry and would need to eat when it was over. It probably took him only a second to answer, but I remember it felt like forever before he smiled and made the jello feeling move to my legs.

“I’d love to.” 

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