Part 4:

But $200, he went. The building was even more intimidating up close. The lobby alone was bigger than his entire apartment. Marble floors, modern art that probably cost more than a car, security guards who looked like they could bench press him. Daniel gave his name at the reception desk, feeling underdressed in his only pair of khakis and a button-down shirt that was too big in the shoulders.

The receptionist made a call, then directed him to the elevators. 48th floor. The elevator moved so smoothly he barely felt it. Classical music played softly. Everything smelled expensive. When the doors opened, Jennifer Hastings was waiting. She was maybe 40, perfectly put together with the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Mr. Brooks, right on time.

Follow me, please. She led him through a maze of glasswalled offices and open workspaces where everyone looked busy and important. People glanced at him as he passed. He didn’t fit here. They could all tell. They stopped at a corner office with a view that stretched across half of Manhattan. Isabella sat behind a desk that was bigger than Daniel’s bedroom, reading something on her tablet. She didn’t look up right away.

Your 10:00 is here, Miss Grant. Jennifer said, “Thank you. Close the door on your way out.” Jennifer left. The door clicked shut with a sound that felt final. Daniel stood there waiting. Isabella finished whatever she was reading, set the tablet down, and finally looked at him. She seemed different here, more contained.

This was her territory, and she knew it. “Sit,” she said. It wasn’t quite a command, but it wasn’t a request, either. Daniel sat in one of the chairs across from her desk. Leather probably worth more than his truck. I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you here, Isabella said. The thought crossed my mind.

I want to offer you a job. Daniel blinked. Of all the things he’d expected, that wasn’t one of them. Excuse me? A job? Director of community outreach for the Grant Foundation. Salary is 90,000 a year. Full benefits. Four weeks paid vacation. you’d be overseeing our charitable initiatives throughout the city. Daniel just stared at her.

That’s I don’t have any experience in you don’t need experience. You have something better. You have perspective. Perspective. You understand what people actually need. Not what I think they need or what looks good in a press release. What they actually need. Daniel’s head was spinning. $90,000. He couldn’t even imagine what $90,000 would feel like. Why? He asked.

Why? Why me? You don’t know anything about me. Yesterday was the first time we met and I told you to sit down in a cafe. Now you want to pay me 90 grand a year. Isabella leaned back in her chair. Yesterday you did something most people wouldn’t do. You stood up to someone with power because it was the right thing to do.

And your daughter, she paused. Your daughter reminded me that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a person. Not a CEO, not a grant, just a person. So, this is guilt. This is pragmatism. I have a foundation with a $50 million annual budget that’s supposed to help people, but I don’t think it actually does. I think it makes me look generous without changing anything.

I want to change that, and I think you might know how. Daniel rubbed his face. This was insane. This whole thing was insane. I fix air conditioners, he said. I install drywall. I don’t know anything about running a foundation. You’ll learn. Why would I trust you? You were awful to that old man yesterday. You’re probably awful to people every day.

Isabella didn’t flinch. You’re right. I am, but I’m trying to be less awful. Isn’t that worth something? I don’t know. Is it? They stared at each other across the desk. I’m not a good person, Mr. Brooks. I think we established that yesterday. But I’m a good businesswoman, and I know an opportunity when I see one.

You have integrity. That’s rare. It’s valuable, and I’m willing to pay for it. This feels like a trap. It’s not a trap. It’s an offer. Take the weekend to think about it. Daniel stood up. His legs felt shaky. I don’t need the weekend. The answer is no. Isabella raised an eyebrow. No. I don’t know you. I don’t trust you and I’m not going to let you buy your way out of being a decent human being by throwing money at me.

That’s not what this is, isn’t it? You feel bad about yesterday, so now you want to hire the poor single dad to make yourself feel better. Well, I’m not interested in being your redemption project. He turned to leave. Mr. Brooks, he stopped but didn’t turn around. I’m not trying to buy redemption, Isabella said quietly.

I don’t think redemption is for sale. I’m trying to do something useful with resources I don’t deserve. And yes, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I just want to sleep better at night. But the money still helps people, doesn’t it? Daniel turned back. Does it? Or does it just make you feel like you’re helping? I don’t know, Isabella admitted.

That’s why I need you. You don’t need me. You need a conscience. Those don’t come with a resume. Then help me build one. The words hung in the air between them. Daniel shook his head. I have to go. I’m missing work for this. He left without looking back. Jennifer was waiting outside. She handed him an envelope. Your compensation for today’s meeting.

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