Page 85 of Just Past Two

“Seriously, though.” He set his water down next to him. “You work really hard here. Are you fulfilled? Does it make you happy?”

“Well, yeah.” Isabel folded her arms. “I’ve known this is what I wanted to do since high school. I want to actually accomplish something in the field. Being design manager is perfect for me. I get the responsibility and the reward.” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you want more responsibility? Is that it? Mr. Nine-to-Five finally going to put his all into this?”

“It’s not like I’m slacking, Isabel.” Matthew drank from his water glass. “You know that. I get everything done on time. Pretty much. But it’s not a challenge anymore, and I was thinking . . . maybe I should be doing something more.”

“You aren’t thinking of leaving, are you?” She gave him an incredulous stare. “You can’t leave. Our whole programming team would fall apart. We’re in the middle of two games. We’re in the final steps of Endgame, and Orion is about to launch. Is this guy talking about stealing you away? Have you talked to Will about it?”

“Easy, easy.” Matthew waved her down with both hands. “I haven’t been offered anything else. I like what I do. But ever since I’ve been spending time with Silas, I feel guilty that I’m not working hard enough. Not like him, and not like you. They asked me to pick up another shift at Gigi’s this weekend, and I told them I’d think about it, but I just feel like I’m spinning my wheels, using it as a placeholder for something I should be doing instead. I don’t know.”

Isabel shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Matthew. I know Will’s been talking a lot lately about wanting a manager for the Programming Department. I figured he’d just hire from outside like he did with Caleb, but I’m sure he’d rather promote from within. If you want more responsibility, it’s there for you, but you’d have to deliver. Be consistently on top of your game. I don’t know if you’re ready to make that kind of commitment if you’re just doing it because of some guy.” Isabel headed for the door of the break room, patting his arm on her way out. “Especially when commitment isn’t really your thing.”

The comment stung, not because it was an unfair assessment of him, but because it was too accurate for comfort. He didn’t want to see himself that way, but Isabel was right. He was an average programmer with the potential to be more, maybe, but if he wanted a leadership role, he couldn’t put in half-assed effort anymore. He was naturally good enough to keep his job, but a promotion would take effort. God, did he really want to put in more effort? Plus give up the Gigi’s weekends and parties?

Now, though, there was DiceCon to plan for, one of his favorite events of the year. He didn’t have to worry about commitment right now, only the immediacy of the upcoming convention. He stopped off at Will’s office, knocking on the door at the end of the hall.

Will opened the door and gestured to Matthew. “Hey, man, come on in! How was your weekend?”

“Good, it was good. How about yours?” he returned. As Will answered, explaining about a day trip he and his wife, Gwen, had taken, Matthew considered his boss while listening. He couldn’t help but smile when he was with Will. The guy was a great boss. Cheerful, hardworking, business-savvy, capable of managing his employees and his company with intelligence and finesse. He didn’t know everything, but as long as Matthew had known him, he was good at hiring people who had the skills and talent to complement his own. PI Games was a small company, but they produced quality products that customers had come to rely on, and Will was careful never to expand beyond what they could handle. He’d kept his company at a perfect size and with a reasonable workload, and Matthew was happy to be working for him.

When Will had finished his weekend recap, Matthew moved swiftly into the purpose for his visit. “I’d love to get the DiceCon team together and start making plans for the trip. I was hoping we could meet today before everyone got immersed in their week’s projects. Does that work for you?”

“Fine, fine.” Will nodded. “See if people can meet at three.”

“Thanks.” Matthew went to get up, but Will interrupted.

“Before you go,” he began, and Matthew sat back down, unsure what was coming. Will paused, tapping a pen on his desk. “First off, I was wondering how things were going with Endgame.”

“Oh. Better, now. I think everyone was having trouble getting started, but things are under way now.” Matthew rubbed the top of his head, his crinkly hair scratching the palm of his hand. “I can have the rest of the programmers check in with you, if you want.”

Will shook his head. “No, that’s all right.” His expression was still thoughtful, a clear indicator that he had more to say, so Matthew remained seated. Sure enough, Will kept talking. “You know, with Orion doing so well, and Endgame coming out soon, I’ve been thinking lately about what the next steps are for PI Games. Matthew, you’ve been here longer than the rest of the programming team. You’ve been a solid employee, reliable and hardworking, but I haven’t seen much desire from you for anything more than your current position. Is that accurate? I mean, are you looking for anything more?”

Matthew let out a long exhale and leaned back in his chair. So much for not having to think about this yet. At least he could tell the truth. “I’ve gotta be honest, Will. This has come up a few times for me lately, and it’s something I’m wrestling with.” He looked around at Will’s office—the walls covered with photographs from the early stages of the company, the team goofing off at conventions, award certificates for some of the games they’d already designed. “I love working here. I enjoy my job, I’m good at programming, I have great coworkers. I don’t want to leave.”

“Good, good.” Will smiled. “I definitely don’t want you to leave.”

“At the same time, I don’t want to commit to something before I’m ready.” Matthew couldn’t imagine making this leap today, or even right now at all. His recent malaise was born out of guilt, and he didn’t want to jump ahead impulsively.

Will set the pen down and folded his hands. “I understand. Listen, I want you to know what I’m thinking. I’m creating a technical manager position. I’m about to do an internal posting. I’d consider you a front-runner for the job if you were interested, but I would need a commitment by the time you went to DiceCon, otherwise I would move to a public search.” He leaned in, the blue light from his monitor reflecting in his glasses.

DiceCon was barely more than a week away. That didn’t give him much time to decide one way or the other. “What would the job responsibilities entail?”

“Mostly it’s overseeing the programming team and being lead programmer, but also working with the audio, voiceover, and sound. We’re going to keep subcontracting those aspects of our games, but I’ve handled most of the decision making for that, and I’d like to hand that off.” Will idly straightened one of the figures on his desk, a miniature Han Solo from Star Wars, before making eye contact with Matthew again. “Does that sound like something that interests you?”

It did, yes, but it also frightened him. His gut instinct was to turn it down, to coast like he’d been coasting. But did he really want to coast forever? “I need to think about it, Will.”

“Of course.” Will smiled. “I’m sending out the internal posting this afternoon, so look it over. I hope to see your application.”

“Thanks.” Matthew’s smile felt tight, anxiety making all his muscles tense. He got to his feet. “I’ll get the DiceCon team together at around three.”

Will’s offer was on his mind as he hunted down the rest of the team to tell them about the meeting. He needed to compartmentalize this, though. He could process later, when he was home and had time to think. For now, there were other important things to accomplish. He stopped by Caleb’s desk.

“Hey, Matthew, what’s up?” Caleb looked up from the computer screen.

“I was wondering if I could get some metalwork help with a project I’m working on.” Matthew rested his arms on Caleb’s cubicle wall, thinking of the many times he’d done this at Isabel’s cubicle over the years.

“Yeah, sure. What’s the project?” Caleb turned the rest of the way around to look up at Matthew with curiosity.

“I seem to have adopted this cat, and she’s got a hip problem and can’t use her back legs.” Zuul was certainly getting adept at maneuvering with just her front legs, as he’d noticed over the weekend whenever he let her out, but he could see that over time, her back legs would get irritated from being dragged along the hardwood. He knew the cat wheelchair was the answer. “I have some plans for adaptive equipment and I need a place to put it together. I’ll bring the supplies, but I don’t have a workshop or tools in my apartment.”