“Take the damn job, Anthony,” someone said.
“It’d be an honor to take the job, sir.”
“Wait, you can’t just-”
“Dave,” I said as I turned to him. “Someone will contact you over the next week to introduce to you your severance package. It will be fair and I’ll negotiate an entire year’s worth of salary. I’ll help you cash out your 401(k) and move any other policies you have. We’ll make this a smooth transition. But, something doesn’t smell right with you anymore. For some reason, I feel like you’re intentionally trying to strong arm me into doing something I don’t want to do, and as the owner of this company you need to understand that you don’t run the show. Go home. Someone will contact you before the weekend.”
“But, Mr. Dob-”
“Get the fuck out of my building, Dave,” I said.
All I wanted to do was lay in bed with Ella all day. All I wanted to do was dive between her legs and never come up for air. I just wanted one day to myself-- to have everything I could have ever wanted.
And I had it, right there in my arms. Leaning ass naked next to me in the middle of my living room floor.
Then this fucking project had to go ruin it.
“Anthony,” I said.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m gonna go work on your promotion paperwork. In the meantime, on the top floor there’s a boardroom full of fat white men who are waiting for me to make an appearance. You’re good with these numbers. Take these options to them and see which one they like. Then, if they don’t like the options, tell them I’ll be paying the difference out of my pocket. Don’t give them an option, just tell them it’s happening. They don’t run this show anymore than Dave did,” I said.
“On it.”
“Call me and let me know how it goes. I’ve got somewhere else I have to be.”
“But, I don’t have your number,” he said.
“Toss me your phone.” I entered my office number and my cell number into his phone before I placed a call to H.R. I told them what happened and all the paperwork that needed to be processed, then I promised them a long weekend if they could get it all processed before the end of the week. By the time I turned back around, Anthony was gone and people had resumed their normal working activities.
Good. Now I could focus on the next task at hand.
Getting Ella back.
17
Ella
I got off work and went straight for my neighbor. He was the only other person I knew in the building that had plans to buy back his home, and I had to tell him what was happening. Mr. Fienster had no family, no friends, and nowhere to turn to. He deserved a heads-up if something like this was going down. I couldn’t keep this from him knowing he needed more time than any of us to find arrangements.
“Ella! How nice of you to come by. You look upset.”
“Mr. Fienster, I’ve got some news for you,” I said.
“Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about it?” he asked.
I stepped into his home and took a look around. Some of his furniture was wrapped with this saran-like plastic. His apartment was void of many things someone would use to decorate: there weren’t many pictures, no gifts from family that decorated any useless tables. His apartment smelled of disinfectant and pills. I felt his hand come up between my shoulder blades, edging me towards his kitchen chair.
“Mr. Fienster, I can make us something to drink.”
“You’re my guest, Ella,” he said. “Sit down and let me make you something.”
“Mr. F, I’m here all the time. I’m hardly a guest.”
“When you’re as distraught as you are, you will be treated with the respect a guest should have. Now, what seems to be troubling you? Those eyes are too pretty to be as dark and stormy as they are.”
“You remember those original numbers for all the updating they were going to do to this place?” I asked.