“What does that mean?”
The Director regained composure.
“He did contract work years ago.”
The Single Dad laughed.
“No.”
The Director looked toward him sharply.
The CEO heard the difference.
“What did he do?”
Silence.
The Single Dad checked his watch.
“Twenty-four minutes.”
The CEO stepped between him and the door.
“You have time.”
He looked down at her.
“I really don’t.”
She turned toward the Director.
“Tell me.”
The Director hesitated.
Then:
“He used to work for our automotive division.”
The CEO stared.
“What?”
The Single Dad picked up his toolbox.
“Used to.”
The CEO looked toward him.
“What position?”
He did not answer.
The Director did.
“Senior Vehicle Systems Engineer.”
The garage went quiet.
The CEO’s expression changed completely.
“You were an engineer.”
“Yes.”
“For us.”
“Yes.”
“On this program?”
The Single Dad looked toward the prototype.
“Early architecture.”
The Senior Engineer stared.
“What part?”
The Single Dad sighed.
He wanted to leave.
The Engineer repeated:
“What part?”
“Diagnostic fault correlation.”
Silence.
The Senior Engineer looked toward his laptop.
Then back.
“You designed the framework we’re using.”
“Part of it.”
The Engineer’s face went pale.
The CEO stared.
“You designed the diagnostic system in this car.”
“Early version.”
“Then why are you working in a garage?”
Nobody moved.
The Single Dad looked toward the wall clock.
“Because garages close.”
The answer confused her.
He continued.
“Usually.”
“My old job didn’t.”
The Corporate Engineering Director stepped forward.
“This is not the place.”
The Single Dad looked toward him.
“You made that decision years ago.”
The Director’s expression hardened.
The CEO noticed immediately.
“What decision?”
The Single Dad smiled without humor.
“Restructuring.”
The CEO looked toward the Director.
“He was laid off?”
The Director answered carefully.
“His division was consolidated.”
The Single Dad laughed.
“That’s executive English.”
The CEO’s voice became cold.
“What happened?”
The Director looked toward the surrounding technicians.
“CEO, this should be discussed privately.”
“No.”
The Single Dad checked the prototype display.
Stable.
He closed the hood.
“Doesn’t matter.”
He picked up the toolbox.
The CEO stepped closer.
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“Because you just repaired technology you helped design while working as a mechanic in a shop my company does not own.”
The Single Dad stared.
“Exactly why does that offend you?”
She stopped.
He continued.
“You think being a mechanic is what needs explanation?”
The question hit.
Hard.