Chapter Ten
The sky was starting to brighten. I groggily sat up in my desk chair and sluggishly began to organize all the typed reports into my suit case. My head is throbbing. The rising sun in my face is not helping. I reluctantly got up to search for my phone. I need to call Wenn to come pick me up again. I can't drive in this state. I dialed his number.
I've hadn't had a wink of sleep in three days. The most I've ever closed my eyes for a long period of time was on my lunch breaks and sometimes even bathroom breaks too. Mortifying? Yes I know, but necessary? That's a whole different story.
I've had Wenn drive me to and from work because I knew that if I got behind the wheel, I'm destined for a trip to the hospital.
Wenn picked up on the third ring.
"I'm backing away from my drive right now, I'll be there in five."
He hung up before I could mutter a word and I thanked him silently in my head. He knew I'd be too tired to comprehend his words much less answer to them.
I hurried (not really) into the shower and by the time I got out, the bell rang. Wenn. I slowly pulled on a pair of jeans and thought about tossing on a shirt too before opening the door but apparently, Wenn insists on giving me an extra wakeup call by buzzing the buzzer constantly.
"Open the damn door Dom!" he yelled.
When I got to the door I caught him chuckling.
"Damn door Dom?" I asked flatly.
"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm a classic, aren't I?"
I didn't answer, instead turned back into the house. Wenn didn't mind my stinginess though. He just simply invited himself in while I finished dressing.
The ride to work was a blur. I think I might have dozed off. The next thing I knew, Wenn was shaking me like a mad man telling me not to fall under yet. I cursed at him but I don't think the words made it out of my mouth. No wonder it sounded louder in my head.
"I'm up, I'm up." I say to him drowsily.
Wenn shook his head and stepped out of the car. I slowly trailed after him.
In the building Wenn escorted me to Thomas's office. I braced myself.
"Well Mr. List, are you here to complain like the rest of my employees?" Thomas called out smugly.
Suit case in hand, I walked up to his desk, unclipped the metal clasp on my case, took out the papers neatly and placed them on his desk.
"No sir." I say tediously. "I'm finished.
A look of disbelief crossed his face but he covered it up by slowly swiping his mouth.
"200 pages?" he asked.
I nodded.
"All in order?" he inquired again while paging through the documents.
I nodded again.
"No help?" he asked once more.
"If you don't count a driver to and from work then no, no help, it was all me."
Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. But suddenly coming to a new conclusion, that irking smug look started to cross his face.
"I have to admit, I didn't expect you finish all of it so quickly, but whatever, I have another task for you and don't worry, it's not paper work this time. I feel like that's too easy for you, don't you agree?"
I crossed my arms.
"I figured as much" I replied.
Thomas boastfully stands up and rounds desk, all the while pulling out a pack of cigarettes, and grabbing a lighter from atop his desk.
"You mind?" he asks arrogantly.
I don't bother replying.
He inhales a long drag of his cigar before turning to exhale the tobacco smelling smoke in my direction.
"I'm sending you across the border." He prompts slowly. "There's someone I want you to meet."
I rolled my eyes knowing I wouldn't be surprised if this was a suicide mission.
"Why." I asked.
Tom gave me an irritated look.
"Because I'm your boss and you'll do as I say."
"Classic pun." I tell him. "Can you at least tell me who I'm meeting, like a name or something?" I say blearily.
"Gunther Davis." Thomas tells me. "Author and publisher of one of our country's best photo company/writing industries."
My brain struggled to keep up with his point.
"Okay." I said drawing out "kay" part. "You gave me a name but I'm not sure why I have to meet him exactly."
Thomas scrunched up his nose and flexed his fingers unwarily, almost looking like he wanted to do murderous things with his hands. Fortunately his hands stayed by his sides and away from my face, but his eyes still shot cross daggers at me.
"I'm sorry if you don't notice." Thomas says sarcastically with irritation. "But, with a guy like that cosigning with us, I'll get twice the money for running this dump."
He indicates his office which is by far the most expensive looking room in the building.
I roll my eyes.
"What the money for?" I ask although already guessing the answer.
"That's none of your business!" he snaps.
I step back and hold up my hands in mock surrender but I don't smile.
"Fine whatever, I'll go meet the damn guy, just tell me the address so I can find him."
Thomas grins.
"Good, no more senseless back talk."
I turn my gaze away so that I don't have to look at his cocky face.
"He's in Henderson, Nevada. He's staying at the Green Valley Ranch Resort and Spa for a short vacation."
Thomas lets out a snort.
"The damn guy is so rich, he has time for a vacation like that in the middle of a tax increase this month. Lucky bastard."
I kept quiet, part of which I was quickly starting to zone out of reality and fall of sleep and the rest was just out of boredom.
"That's it? He's in Nevada, at a resort?" I say trying to wake myself up by starting up another stressful and irritating conversation.
"Don't make it sound so easy! You're going to have to persuade him into cosigning with our company and that man is not easily influenced into things. The guy is built like a rock and unfortunately he's just as stubborn when it comes to deal making. That's why I'm sending you.
"What's that supposed to mean." I say defensively, crossing my arms.
Thomas starts to cross the room towards his city view glass window and glances out but that doesn't deter me, I know he's not really looking at anything.
"Well Dommy," he teases. "I need your communication skills. Somehow it seems like you really know how to mingle with people from a lower status, except in this case, I need you to communicate with a higher one. Compared to you that is."
I gritted my teeth together as sleep slowly started to drain out of my body and anger replaced it.
"What are you implying?" I growled, furious at the idea that Thomas or any of his other associates thinking they're more superior then the rest of us in this company. Especially after calling out Wenn like that.
"Don't take it the wrong way, but you tend to hang with the wrong crowd, I mean Wenn?"
He chuckles.
"He's a fucking janitor for god's sakes. He barely belongs with the staff."
Fire welds in my throat.
"What are we, in high school? Cut the crap about the clicks and the society groups and don't you ever judge me."
Thomas just grins, justified that he finally got me to lose my cool.
"Ah well, my opinion still stands."
He then walks back to his desk and takes another draw out of his still lit cigar.
"You can leave now." He says simply. "He'll be expecting you at 4pm, don't disappoint me."
I tighten my fists and walk out, barely managing not to say something I might possibly get fired for.
Minutes after I stepped out of his office, there Wenn was being the supportive friend he is with a coffee in hand, and my laptop tucked in his other arm.
The anger was still there most definitely but I could feel the tired and weariness starting to drift back into my bones again. Thank God for coffee.
"Dude," I say as I started down the hall with him at my heels. "I'm going to need a lot more coffee than that if I'm going to make it through today."
"Got it covered bro." he says with a knowing grin,
I didn't know what he was talking about until we reached his tiny little janitors office which had quickly become my signified working place. On the small little desk inside his office, there was ten, maybe a dozen cups of coffee lined up to form a frowny face. I laughed at the ridiculousness of Wenn's motives.
"Ta da!" he presents dramatically. "And if coffee is not enough, then sugar should do the trick. Ha! In fact, you can have the Kladdkaka cake that my mom made me. Just to let you know though, my mom is a horrible cook. But hey, if you do eat it, it would have at least gone for a good cause. Unless it kills you though, then I'll just have to bury you secretly on the outskirts of town with the rest of mom's bad cake mishaps."
I shake my head at his ludicrousness.
"Thanks for the heads up."
He hands me my laptop and I make my way over to the bean bag chair in the corner of the room. As I sit down, Wenn hands me a cup coffee from the table, then turns to grab a mop, a bucket, a plunger, and disinfectant spray.
"Duty calls." Wenn calls out as he exits the room.
"No kidding." I chuckle.
The door closes behind him and I'm left to the calmness of this room. I open my laptop and flinched as the bright light instantly blinded me. I took a long gulp of coffee before starting another stressful day of work.
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