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“I don’t like these youngsters with their long hair and their tattoos and their flipflops.”
I was glad I had opted for a suit and tie for this dinner. “But I am young,” I reminded him. “I’m turning 27 this year.”
The old man snorted dismissively and got down to business right away. “What is age, a number, they say. This software of yours, Lori says we need it, why?”
I gave him the usual spiel and he listened.
“I wanted to trust my people,” he finally said. “If you can’t trust the people working for you, who can you trust?”
“No one,” I said, without having to think about it. “People serve themselves first. No matter how loyal you think someone is, if a better offer comes along or a more attractive person… it depends on their motivation.”
Rees-Smythe stared at me pensively. “Sounds very Big Brother-ish to me, your product. Watching people all the time. Invasion of privacy?”
“When they are at work, they belong to you. Not only their time, but their interests and their desires.”
Our food came and we talked of other things. His sons, both in finance and his wife, who was suffering from Parkinson’s.
“I like you,” he finally said. “I wanted to meet you to see if I was right about you. And I was. You’re no hippie-fool, more interested in work life balance than actual work. Spiritual retreats, juice diets, sleeping ten hours every night.”
“Not really my style,” I admitted.
“Indeed,” the old man guffawed. “Never liked sleep much myself; find the best part of the day is when everyone goes off to bed. Some of my best ideas came to me at two in the morning over a single malt. Or two.” His laugh turned into a cough.
“For me, it’s when I’m out running. Streets are deserted, icy rain is coming down and suddenly I know the answer to a question that has been bothering me for weeks.” I put down my fork.
“It comes down to work ethic, I think. Many people think my generation doesn’t have it. But you can’t generalize like that. We are not all the same. If you want to achieve something, I think you learn early on that you must work for it. Success doesn’t come falling into your lap. That only happens in the movies.”
“Not everyone learns that early on,” the old man chuckled.
“I did,” I said, quietly. There was no need to explain why.
The old man sat back and nodded appreciatively. I knew I had my deal.
Lori picked me up at ten o’clock. I shook the old man’s hand and we drove back to my hotel.
“How did it go?” she asked me.
“Well, I think,” I said.
She nodded and smiled at me.
I was tired and looked out the window.
She shifted in her seat, sitting closer to me.
“I’m sure you were great,” she said in a seductive voice, and I felt her hand on my leg.
There was glass between the back of the car and the driver. Still, he could see us in the rearview mirror.
“You married?” she asked as her hand squeezed my thigh.
This was an interesting development.
“Divorced,” I said. “You?”
She shook her head. “I’m not the marriage-two-kids-and-a-dog type.”
Her hand slid down my leg and her finger brushed against my cock.
