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)
“Generous! Thank you, thank you so much, Mr. Wilde.”
“De nada.”
The woman practically floated as she poured a cup of coffee, set it down, then moved about the room. A coworker came in, stopped and stared, but he ignored him. She picked up a couple of apples, a banana, a strawberry yogurt along with a spoon, a cheese Danish, and then her coffee. He had a sneaking suspicion that the fruit and yogurt may serve later as her lunch. The coworker cast him a questioning glance, then exited with a fresh coffee in hand.
“Gracias, esto es bueno. Tomaré mi café y mi desayuno y te dejaré volver al trabajo.”
“Again, you’re welcome. Now, one more thing, Ms. Sofia. If I may be so blunt, ma’am, do you get paid vacation time?”
She placed her loot in her cart, then stood there for a moment, as if trying to recall if she did or not.
“No, but uh, for Christmas, yes… and Thanksgiving, yes… I do get uh, you say, days off. Yes. Five.” She held up her hand and wiggled five fingers, smiling as she took a sip of her coffee.
“Just so you know, I’ve seen you many times before. How long have you worked here?” He took a glance at the time, ensuring he wasn’t running late for his important meeting.
“Seis años.”
“Six years? That’s too long to not have more vacation days than that. It’s not my department, but I will be bringing this up in a future meeting. That’s reprehensible.”
She smiled at him appreciatively, then took another sip of her coffee.
“Thank you, Mr. Wilde. You are a kind man.” Her eyes smiled so much; they looked like upside down crescent moons.
“I’m not, but I’m shootin’ for progress.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and removed four twenty-dollar bills.
“Ohhhh, noooo! Noooo!” She turned red and waved him off as she realized what was happening.
“Yes, yes, yes. Come on now, Ms. Sofia. This is nothin’. I don’t keep a lotta cash on me or I’d give you more.” He walked up to her and gently tucked it into the top pocket of her smock. The woman’s eyes teared up.
“No cryin’. Be happy. I’m going to talk to my boss about your health insurance, too.”
The woman suddenly wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. She told him God bless him in Spanish.
He didn’t need proof. That tight hug told him all he needed to know. Ms. Sofia needed money for so many things in her life. Something she was too prideful to discuss with some stranger. She needed that money like a dying man in the desert needed water. He knew how that felt. To need something so badly, your life literally depended on it. Moments later, she was gone and he was left with the lemony scent of cleaning supplies and hot coffee floating in the air. After a few moments of deliberation over the whole matter, he left and made the short trek to his office. He entered, locked the door, then looked around.
For the first time, he felt a certain coldness in there, as if it had been violated in some way. Haunted by an evil ghost, neglected in an invisible but real fashion. He made his way to his desk and sank into the seat, melting into the leather. He rested his hands along the clawed arms and allowed the faint classical music pouring through the speakers to take him away. Somewhere safe, some place he trusted.
He counted sheep in his head.
One black sheep, two black sheep, three black sheep, up to no good—
Four black sheep, five black sheep, six black sheep, lost in the woods.
Seven black sheep, eight black sheep, nine black sheep, shaking with fright—
Ten black sheep, eleven black sheep, twelve black sheep, hiding in plain sight.
On and on he went, until he heard a soft ringtone chime.
He looked at his cellphone:
HE’S HERE.
He responded:
Send him up.
Roman sat at his desk for a few seconds, breathing in… then out… Pushing away all negative thoughts, he fell into the moment. Soon, a hard knock sounded at his door. He pushed his buzzer and unlocked it. There, standing with his black sports coat on, and a partially unbuttoned white shirt that allowed a peek at his old tattoos and silver and dark brown hair, was a real live grenade. Grandpa donned an expensive black cowboy hat, below which he sported a wide grin as he entered, smelling like Dior Sauvage. He’s solo? It was rare to see him in public without his hired muscle. The man closed the door behind him and Roman got to his feet. The two men glared at one another as Grandpa drew closer. When Grandpa was standing before him, he stretched out his big hand.
“I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement, Grandson,” he stated gravely as he waited for him to shake it.