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If one of my clients saw me right now, they would probably put out a hit on me. I’m supposed to be making them money, not fucking around on my computer, passing the time, because I have the motivation of a five-year-old asked to read a math book.
Just as I’m about to start the game, the door to my office swings open.
It’s not hard to guess who it could be.
Not many have the balls to roll up on my place without an invitation, which leaves Cyrus, my mother, or a pissed-off, straight-outta-the-underworld victim.
At first, I can’t tell who’s walking in, but when I look up from my computer, I instantly know.
Ding, ding, ding.
I’ll take pissed-off victims for five hundred, Alex.
Although I have never seen him in person, I am well aware that the man standing in front of me is Paul, the most recent recipient of my shady practices on the stock market.
The first thing I can tell as his feet stomp on my marble floors is that he isn’t happy. But I guess I wouldn’t be either if I lost hundreds of millions of dollars in one day.
That’s the consequence of pissing off one of my clients. I refrain from smiling. That action will get me a bullet in my head. I have to assume the only reason I don’t have one already is because security cameras are all over this place, and Paul is trying desperately to go legit.
When he stops moving, I inspect him.
He’s an older man, probably close to my father’s age, had my father lived. I’d guess late fifties or early sixties. His hair is salt and pepper, and his forehead is creased with lines. Crow’s feet edge his eyes, but it’s what’s under them that gives him away.
He’s barely hanging on after my attack. The dark hollows tell the tale of many sleepless nights.
Probably my doing.
Yet I can’t seem to find it in me to care.
“Paul, good to see you.” I meet his eyes.
“Oh, so you do know who I am,” he responds tersely.
“Of course. Your name precedes you.” Adding a little flair is certainly going to piss him off, but I’m beyond caring right now.
The dick isn’t going to kill me in my office.
“Or it could be the fact that you’ve chosen me as your enemy.”
I shrug, pressing start on my solitaire game. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, no?” he challenges, his face serious, his brow lifted.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t.” I nod to the seat in front of me, not really looking, focused on matching up numbers and suits on the screen. “But if you’d like to take a seat, I have to assume you would like to invest with me.”
His hand hits my desk while the door opens again, and this time, security decides to step in. I make a mental note to figure out why Paul was able to get this far. To figure out whether my security officers need to be changed.
“Do you need me to escort him out, sir?”
“Give us a minute,” I say to the guard before continuing back to Paul, finally looking away from the solitaire game. “Now that you have my undivided attention, why don’t you get to the point, seeing as you’ve made it very clear you’re not here to invest?”
“Cut the shit, Aldridge. You know why I’m here.”
“Spit it out. I don’t have all day, I’m busy.”
Busy playing solitaire.
But I don’t say that.
