Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Roman took a deep breath… inside, he was crumbling. Falling to pieces.
“Eric, well, thank you for that. I—”
“A second ago, you said something was a thing of beauty, but apparently it wasn’t your bonus as I just joked with you about. What was it?”
“I proposed to my girlfriend. She said yes.” He mustered a smile as his heart beat damn near out of his chest. A time of celebration had a big, dark cloud over it.
“Roman, that is wonderful news! I only got to meet her in passing at the Christmas party. Genny, correct?”
“Genesis, but some folks call her Genny or Gen.”
“Yes, that’s right. Genesis. You two seemed completely smitten with one another. Congratulations! I would love to take you and your lady love to lunch soon. My treat.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s mighty nice of you. Uh, Eric, I know you’re busy, but would you mind if I come to your office and have a quick chat with you?”
“Well Roman, I have a meeting soon, but later today I could—”
“I know you’ve got the Thurman meeting scheduled this morning, but it doesn’t start until thirty minutes from now. That meeting is just a recap of what was discussed last Wednesday, so no preparation is needed. I’d never request a meeting at such short notice unless it was crucial.” There was a pause on the other end.
“…You sound concerned. That’s not like you.” Eric sighed. “What is this about, Roman?”
“I’d rather have a face-to-face conversation.”
“Come. I’ll let Marigold know you’re on your way.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there shortly.”
Roman disconnected the call. He stood there, his palms growing so sweaty they could fill a cup. His face flushed with an ungodly heat, and his feet seemed to be made of lead. He reached for his chain necklace and gave it a little tug. Then, he turned on his heels, exited his office, shoulders back, head high, and walked with purpose through the gallery to Dearborn’s office. The big dawg.
Roman cleared his throat, warming up and hoping to not vomit before he flashed his badge, gaining entrance to the corridor that led to the head man in charge.
“Good mornin’, Marigold,” he greeted with a wave. “Nice to see you.”
“Good morning, Mr. Wilde.” The young lady who sat behind a large gray desk, donning strawberry blond hair with thick bangs and bright green eyes, always blushed when he looked her way.
Roman stood like some soldier, facing his boss’s entryway. There, before him, were large, looming cherrywood double doors with intricate carvings of sword yielding warriors, gnashing lions, and the like. Combat. Survival of the fittest. The smell of rich coffee filled the area, as well as the faint hint of expensive cologne. He wasted no more time and bit the bullet. When he rapped on the door with his ringed hand and saw the screen on the side of the door flash. Click. It was open.
As soon as he entered, the all too familiar eyes of a huge wild boar greeted him. The thing hung over a mantel, menacing, sad, and courageous all at once. Roman abhorred it. Grotesque. Overkill, in every sense of the word. It lacked class, humor, and beauty. He hated all mounted hunted game, especially since he’d grown up seeing it all over Grandpa’s dwelling.
“Roman, please… have a seat,” Eric stated, shaking him from his deliberations.
Roman sat down in the large wine leather seat then smoothed his tie. Eric sat behind his computer, one of three, while soft classical music played. His office was the size of a luxury apartment, featuring a small area with a refrigerator containing fancy imported treats, a wine chiller, a sizable television screen that hung high on one wall, double fireplaces, and his own private restroom with a seat warmer. Roman knew of such a feature because it was often brought up during office jokes.
The two men were quiet for a few moments, with Vivaldi’s Violin Concerto in E major, RV 269 ‘Spring’—I. Allegro’ playing in the background.
Roman looked around the room once more, noting the framed military awards.
Fellow jarhead. Oorah… Be the tree…
“Eric, I, uh, I appreciate you speaking with me on such short notice. I’ll get right down to it.” He glanced behind the man, noting framed photos of Eric, his wife, and grandchildren. “I’ve contacted my attorney. He knows about this discussion ahead of time.”
The man shifted in his seat; his brows furrowed. Eric was a tall, thin man with huge shoulders. Moving around in furniture made him at times look awkward. Now, even more so. He seemed uncomfortable with this conversation, too.
“Your attorney?” Eric probed as he leaned back in his seat, his thin lips flattening against his tanned face. “Why would you need an attorney, Roman?” The tone dripped with, ‘What have you gone and done, motherfucker?’ Words left unsaid.
“To protect myself, you and this company. I am laying my cards down. Almost literally.” He smirked. “You’ve treated me as an equal and with respect. You’ve invited me to several of your family functions over the years, and I felt welcomed not only into this business, but into your family. I owe you… I owe you the truth.”