“Josh, maybe Ryan could give you some career advice.”
At twenty-nine, I was still considered the disappointment of the family: the college dropout who had moved back home, delivered groceries at night, and spent years working on some “internet business” nobody understood.
I hadn’t attended a family reunion in three years.
Mom had practically begged me to come.
Apparently, they needed an audience for Ryan.
Diane leaned toward me.
“He’ll be a millionaire before thirty.”
Then she said louder:
“Unlike some people.”
I smiled.
What Diane didn’t know was that I had spent four years building a recruiting platform for engineers.
The beginning had been brutal.
I coded from a tiny space above a laundromat, lived as cheaply as I possibly could, and delivered groceries after midnight.
It took fourteen months to earn our first ninety-nine dollars.
Then the company started growing.
Six months earlier, a larger technology group acquired the business in a multimillion-dollar deal and kept me as vice president of talent infrastructure and strategic acquisitions.
Nexa belonged to that same corporate group.
I had seen Ryan’s name on a personnel list three months earlier.
I never said anything.
Silence gives people plenty of room to show you exactly who they are.
Then Grandma asked, “So, Josh, honey, what have you been doing?”
The conversations around us slowly went quiet.
Everyone expected another vague answer.
“Not much,” I said.
Diane smiled.
Then I added:
“I just signed Ryan’s paycheck last week.”
The entire yard went silent.
Ryan blinked.
Diane froze.
Ryan forced a laugh.
“Good one, Josh.”
Nobody laughed with him.
Diane frowned.
“Ryan beat more than a hundred applicants for that position.”
“I know. I saw the list.”
Ryan’s expression changed immediately.
“What exactly are you trying to imply?” Diane asked.
“Nothing.”
She stepped closer.
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