| |
Even though I didn’t set an alarm, I wake up at five o’clock on Friday morning.
In an attempt to fill some of my free time, I try to go back to sleep, but at five thirty, I’m still awake, so I get out of bed and start my usual routine. Working out, eating breakfast, reading the news. Vince has confiscated most of my electronics, but I still have my desktop at home, surprisingly enough. So I could, in fact, do some work if I wanted to.
Well, I’ll save that for later, for when I’m really desperate.
I make myself another espresso and sit back in my recliner with a copy of Like Water for Chocolate in Spanish. Como agua para chocolate.
I’m still reading at nine o’clock when Elena, my housekeeper, comes in. She’s about my mom’s age, but unlike my mother, she has three grandchildren, whom she likes to talk about the rare times I see her. Most of the time, I’m at work when she’s here.
“I can hardly believe my eyes!” she says, putting her hands to her cheeks and opening her mouth wide in an exaggerated expression of surprise. “You’re home on a weekday!”
“Unfortunately, yes. Not by choice, I assure you.”
“I know,” she says. “Your mother told me all about her plan.”
“You approve?”
“Of course I do. You work too hard. You need some time off.”
Hmph. Everyone’s on the same side but me. What’s wrong with hard work?
“I’ll make you something for lunch today,” she says. “What would you like?”
“Whatever you want. We’ll eat together, and you can tell me about your grandchildren.”
I need to fill the time somehow.
* * *
By three o’clock in the afternoon, I’ve read more than half of Como agua para chocolate and watched two episodes of a telenovela. I’ve also eaten too much moussaka, talked to Elena for an hour, spent another hour in the gym, and tried to pull out most of my hair.
That’s it. I’m going to the office. I’d planned to stay away until Tuesday, but I can’t stand this any longer.
I put on a suit and embark on the ten-minute walk to Fong Investments. We have several floors in a building in the financial district. As I take the elevator up to the twenty-seventh floor, I can feel serenity seeping into my veins. Yes, this is where I belong.
I step out of the elevator and walk purposefully along the corridor. A couple people look at me strangely and elbow each other.
Priya immediately jumps up when I walk into her office, which is connected to mine.
“Julian, you’re not supposed to be here.”
“I beg to differ. I’m the president and CEO, and it’s a workday.”
Raymond enters her office. “I heard you were in.”
Priya holds out her hand. “Ten dollars, please.”
He sighs and deposits a ten-dollar bill in her hand.
“We had a bet,” Priya explains to me. “I bet that you would show up at some point today, whereas Raymond thought you’d be able to make it a full day without coming into the office. But he was wrong.” She smiles triumphantly.
Just then, I hear movement on the other side of my office door.
“Priya, who did you let into my office? Nobody should be in there but you and Raymond, and you two are out here.”
The door opens. “Hello, Julian.”
It’s Vince.
“What the hell are you doing in my office?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Need to make sure things don’t crumble to dust in your absence.”
“I bet you’re flirting with my employees.”
He shrugs again, a smile on his face, then turns to Priya. “You owe me ten dollars.”
Priya hands over Raymond’s ten-dollar bill.
“What the hell?” I bellow. “I’m away for one day and this place turns into a gambling hall?”
“Just a friendly bet,” Vince explains. “Priya and I both knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away from the office today, but she thought you’d show up before noon. I, on the other hand, had a little more faith in you and trusted you wouldn’t show up until this afternoon. And now, you and I will vacate the premises.” He takes my arm and starts walking down the hall. Before we get on the elevator, he pulls out his phone and makes a call. “Hi, Mom... Yes, he did. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he has fun tonight... Uh-huh... Okay, talk to you later.”
Well, isn’t this just lovely.
“How did you fill the first half of your day?” he asks when we’re in the elevator.
“Television and—”
“It was Spanish television, wasn’t it? Even on your day off, you tried to be productive by teaching yourself Spanish.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You need a hobby,” he says.
“Learning languages is a hobby.”
“You already speak five languages fluently. Isn’t that enough?”
“What do you want me to do? Crocheting? Woodworking? Birdwatching?”
“Or videogames.”
I frown. “That’s a waste of time.”
Vince puts his hands to his chest as though he’s been shot.
“Cut the melodrama,” I snap.
I swear, my blood pressure must be higher than it would be during a stressful day at the office.
* * *
By eight o’clock, I feel like my brain is rotting. I’ve spent the past few hours playing videogames at Vince’s and eating pepperoni pizza. Admittedly, the videogames were not an entirely unpleasant experience, but I’m ready for something new.
Vince helps himself to another slice of pizza. “Remember I mentioned a party?”
“I don’t think I’m dressed properly for the sort of party you’d take me to.” I gesture to my suit. Yeah, I’m wearing a suit while playing videogames and eating pizza. I’m classy.
“Actually, that’s perfect. It’s a rather fancy party.”
“Oh?” I’m intrigued. Maybe...
“Where there will be no opportunities for networking.”
Damn.
“I mean it,” he says. “Don’t embarrass me by talking business.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re in the back seat of a town car, heading to the Bridle Path, an upscale part of Toronto.
“Tell me about your friend who’s hosting the party,” I say.
“Brian Poon. His family owns some kind of big multinational company.”
“Which company? And who does Brian have looking after his money?”
Vince gives me a look. “Can you pretend you don’t run an investment firm just for an hour? Please?”
“I was joking.”
“Yeah, sure you were.”
“I didn’t ask to go to this party, you know.”
“But it’s exactly what you need.”
The driver approaches a grand house of gray stone with elaborate wrought-iron gates, which are open. He continues along the crescent-shaped driveway and stops in front of a fountain with a nearly-naked man and woman carved of marble. The garden is lush and has an abundance of flowers, and the entrance is framed by two-story columns.
We head to the door, and an Asian man in a blue suit answers. He smiles at Vince before turning to me. “You must be Julian. I’m Brian.”
We shake hands.
“Tell me,” he says, “is this your first orgy?”