Chapter Four - Conrad
“You’re late,” I tell her on Monday morning when she walks into the lobby. Seriously, this intercom is one of the best things in my life. Maya and Zima look up when my voice comes through the speakers. I never get sick of seeing the surprise, the masked delight. But I don’t like the look Zima is giving her. It may be time for her to move on. We’ve had a lot of disagreements over the years and have been through a lot together. We’ll see.
Maya is shaking her head. She points her finger at the ceiling, at whatever camera she imagines I’m watching from. She taps her watch and shakes it at me. I know damned well that she’s 15 minutes early. But this is where you learn. In the reaction. Zima’s clenched jaw and inability to relax, combined with her insistence on looking rapturously at me whenever I’m around—there’s no challenge there. Even when she acts miffed she’s too eager to please. Uncertainty is what gives life its exhilarations. There’s no uncertainty there. Not like with Maya, who has now marched over to the wall and is waiting for the elevator to open.
“I’ll bring you up in a few minutes,” I say. “You’re fifteen minutes early. I can’t just drop everything because you’re here.” I turn off the video feed and lean back in my chair. It’s more fun to imagine their reaction, sight unseen than to watch it. But I’m not feeling as good as I’d hoped. I can do the devil may care thing all day, but the truth is that I care deeply about some things. You don’t get to be a billionaire by not caring.
“Okay, come on up,” I say, turning the video feedback on. The elevator slides open and Maya steps in. 10 seconds later she’s stepping into my office, prepared to be defiant. But that falls from her face when she sees the new arrangement. I brought in a big desk that we’ll work at. There are two black couches. Who knows what will happen on those? The possibilities are endless.
“Redecorating?” she says, looking at the art that now hangs on the walls.
“When you were here before I was having the walls treated,” he said. “Had to take the paintings down. They’re pricey.”
“Oh, I bet. What were you doing to the walls?”
I grin. “Sound proofing them. If these walls could talk, you know. That sort of thing.” Apparently, she doesn’t find this roguish or charming. She just looks annoyed with me. It’s like a drug. She’s trying so hard to show me that she can take this or leave it, but she’s dying to know what’s going on. Soon enough, Maya, soon enough.
“What exactly do you consult for?” she says. Another unexpected turn.
“Huh?”
“You’re a consulting firm. You and your associates, although it looks like it’s just you up here. What do people want to know from you?”
“Oh. They want to know how to do what I do. I pretend they can, but while teaching them that they can’t, they make more money than before, so they leave happy.”
She takes off her purse and sets it on the floor. “Am I working for you, or the associates also?”
“After a manner of speaking. I don’t know how to say this, but…well, there really aren’t any associates. In my position, I’ve had to make certain legal moves to protect myself.”
“From what? International assassins?”
“You might be surprised. But no. I have plenty of enemies here. Plenty of things to protect me from right here at home. Including protecting me from myself, as it happens. And that’s where you come in, assuming you still need the job.”
“I never said I needed it. But I’m here. The first thing I have to say is that I’m no intern and I’m not going to be some bullshit assistant fetching coffee for you.”
“No. That’s Zima’s job. But I hired you to be an assistant, so that’s what you will do. You will assist me.” Before she can say anything else I gesture to one of the couches. “Please sit. We need to have a talk before we go any further.”
Her eyes dart to the couch. “I’m--”
“If I was trying to seduce I would take you somewhere else,” I said. “Just sit. Quit worrying.”
“I’m not wor--”
“Yes, you are. You don’t have the hold on your body language that you think you do, but that’s something I’ll be able to help you with. If you like.”
For an answer, she sits. “Okay,” she says. “What are we doing?”
“I’m in an odd position,” I say. “I’m a bit of a scientist and I’ve hit the wall with a new experiment. It’s something I need help with, and I think that you are in a unique position to help me learn some things.”
“About?”
“About myself. The world. Life. I’m not joking and I’m not understating how important this is to me. I think I’m in a position to bring about something that matters.”
Is it possible that she doesn’t know how good she looks? My God, the way she fills out that dress. I can tell she tried to downplay it. To look understated and professional. Suddenly it feels like I made a huge mistake saying that I had no intentions of seducing her here on this couch. But that might not be the only mistake I’m making. I’m nervous. I want this to work. One way or another, I’ve got to prove myself wrong. Or right. I can admit that I want her, I just can’t show it to her yet, and I can’t let it get in the way of my goals.
“First I need you to answer a question for me,” she says.
“Sure.”
“Zima said that she hopes I last longer than the girl before me. What did she mean?”
Oh brother. “The assistant I had before you didn’t care about a damn thing I wanted to do. All she wanted to do was fuck me. That’s as honest as I can be about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’ve done your research on me. There aren’t many things I enjoy more than a willing woman, but she couldn’t focus on anything else. That sounds like the sort of problem any guy would love to have, but I actually have shit to do. Believe it or not, you’re here to keep me from getting distracted. Zima’s protective, that’s all. She wants what’s best for me.”
She bites her lip and raises one eyebrow. I obviously made the wrong choice. She’s distracting as hell.
“So here’s what I want to do,” I say.