A Perfect Fit

6

Jackson

I never liked Excel.

And as I glance at the '#REF!' error I'm seeing for the third time on my spreadsheet, I don't think Excel likes me very much either.

In addition to this Excel issue, there are currently seventy-two unread emails in my inbox, six other items on my to-do list for today, and eight other documents I need to finish reviewing, half of which will likely require further editing. There's the saying that if you do what you love it won't feel like work, but I'm yet to experience that feeling.

Was that saying just some kind of hoax?

My gaze drifts to the CEO nameplate sitting on my desk, and I tell myself to power through. For Carter Marketing Solutions, the marketing consultancy firm my late dad founded and handed down to me.

After all, with title comes responsibility, and that wasn't something I was keen to forget.

Yet what was I doing here as CEO if I couldn't even work out a simple Excel formula?

A sudden knock at my office door interrupts my thoughts, and as I check the time, a sense of tranquility washes over me.

"Come in," I call out, knowing exactly who I'm expecting. If I can forget about work for even five minutes, I'd be content.

As the door opens, a wide smile forms on my face at the sight of two familiar faces walking inside—Anna and Lucy, my cousin and Anna's mom. I had been told by Lucy over the phone that Anna apparently had a little surprise she was excited for me to see.

"Hey Jackson," Lucy smiles. "Thanks for making time for us. We'll make this quick."

"I'll always make time for my beloved cousin and niece," I tease.

"Hi Uncle Jace!" Anna beams as she skips over to my desk with a card in her hand. The happiness and joy radiating off her face is so pure and I'm thinking that I definitely would like to have kids one day. A girl, in particular.

"Is that a card for me?" I grin.

"No," Anna responds as she hands me the card.

I let out a tiny chuckle. This girl. "Who's it for then?"

"It's a card with a drawing of Isabelle," Anna explains, her eyes shimmering with delight when she mentions Isabelle's name. It's only at this point do I notice that she's wearing the black polka dot scrunchie we bought at Isabelle's stall last week.

"Anna's wanted to be a fashion designer since she was five," Lucy adds as I open the card. "She's been going on non-stop for the past few days about how Isabelle's her role model. Even though I've never met Isabelle before, she sounds like a lovely human."

"Actually, I forgot, you're in the drawing too, Uncle Jace!" Anna exclaims. "Look, this is you," she adds, pointing to the stick figure with brown hair next to the sketch of Isabelle, which is more sophisticated than the drawing of me. Between us, there's a large pink love heart in the air.

Hang on. Why did Anna draw me as a stick figure and not Isabelle?

I decide not to ask her that question—I'm not sure I want to know the answer—and instead give her an encouraging smile. "It's beautiful, Anna. I know you'll make an amazing fashion designer when you grow up," I say and mean it. Genuinely.

"Thank you, Uncle Jace! Since you and Isabelle are friends, will you help me give this to her?" she asks with a puppy-eyed look that makes it difficult to say no.

"Of course, Anna," I promise. 

What have I got myself into?

"Yay!" Anna clasps her hands together and a wide grin plasters across her face. "You're the best!"