But what I thought I said isn’t what came out. It sounded more like, “Fwazing imnt to blarb.” Pierce just laughed at me and patted my arm.
“Go to sleep, little stoner.”
The next thing I knew, I woke up and we were in Los Angeles, rushing to make the flight to Sydney. Chloe was a trooper the whole time, napping and playing with her toys, drinking her juice and munching happily on snacks provided by the attendants, all of whom fell in love with her. I stayed drugged on the magic knuckler potion the entire time, and before I know it, Pierce is gently shaking my arm.
“We’re landing, Arie, and I need to drop you two straight at the hotel and go right to our new office. The plane is late getting in and I don’t have time to piss around. Will you be conscious enough to look after Chloe?”
I stretch and cross my eyes, then let my tongue loll out of my mouth, before laughing. “I’m fine, Pierce. We’ll get unpacked at the hotel and then go look for some food. Don’t worry about us.”
An hour later, we are at a boutique hotel on High Street, and Chloe and I are sitting in a living room in a loft suite, watching Pierce run back out the door. As always, she is impervious to change. I am perpetually in awe of my little girl’s ability to roll with the punches and adapt to any situation. Meanwhile, I have no idea what time, or day, it is, I’m starving, tired for no reason, and suddenly can’t remember what side of the road they drive on in New Zealand.
God, I hope I don’t have to drive us anywhere.
Chloe and I spend the day walking up and down the High Street, checking out the shops and the food, and eating samples of anything anyone will give us (mostly because Chloe is so adorable). Pierce didn’t give us any money before he left, and I certainly don’t have any, so we’re relying on the kindness of strangers, and it turns out that strangers in New Zealand are exceptionally kind. By the time the sun starts to set, and it begins to get really chilly, I decide to take us back to the hotel. If Pierce is going to be working all night, I figure we can eat at the restaurant in the lobby and charge it to the room. He can’t be mad about that, right?
We head back to the hotel room, and when I open the door, I almost have a heart attack. Standing in an elegant suit, holding a single flower.
“What do you say to a night on the town?”
Pierce
When I get to our new CSL offices in a beautiful classic building on High Street, just up the road from hotel, I am utterly shocked at what I find. I expected to show up to an empty block of cubicles, or a loft space that hadn’t been furnished yet, since our plans for opening up in Auckland had been fairly last minute. Instead, into a huge, beautiful office space with vaulted ceilings and exposed beams, polished wood floors, a Victorian-designed interior, and an open work space complete with a vintage pool table. There is a “boss’s office” off the back, but the sliding doors are mostly glass and rich antique wood, giving it an accessible feel that nothing in our building in New York has. Even the bathrooms are state-of-the-art, with showers and changing rooms, making them perfect for long work nights or employees returning from extended trips.
We still haven’t hired anyone to work here, or cover the office full time; that is one of the tasks my father has assigned me while we’re in Auckland. Our first clients are due in an hour, and without a receptionist, that means I have to cover everything myself. I don’t mind, but it doesn’t look terribly professional for me to answering the phone and welcoming clients myself. For a moment, I consider calling Arie and having her pretend to be my secretary, just for the day, but then I decide she and Chloe are better off having a day to themselves.
I barely have time to log into the computer and confirm the client meeting before two men from the New Zealand government are standing outside the sliding door, looking grim and serious. I try to remain as calm as possible as I greet them.
“Gentlemen! You must be from the consulate. My name is Pierce Cochran, and I am Head of Overseas Logistics and Security Maintenance. I will be coordinating all of your initial planning with CSL until the office is organized.”
The men each take a seat across from the desk without me offering. The taller of the two hands me a business card. “My name is Spencer James, and the formalities are unnecessary. We are very well-acquainted with the world Cochran Securities does, and we wouldn’t be here if we weren’t prepared to sign with you today. There is just one caveat.”
I lean across the desk. “I’m listening.”
“We need very… focused attention. And it will require full-time concentration from someone who knows the industry inside and out. So, we are hoping that you will consider relocating to Auckland and handing the project yourself.”
I sit back, not sure I just heard him correctly. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? You want me to do what?”
The short, round fellow scootches forward in his seat and holds out his hand, but doesn’t offer me a name or a business card. “Mr. Cochran, we’
re not really from the consulate. We’re not at liberty to say what our business is until you agree to our terms. But when my associate says we need someone with a special set of skills, a history in the industry, and a reputation for being a standup guy, assume those terms are non-negotiable. Our business requires discretion, concentration, and talent. We’ve done our homework and we know you are the man for the job. Now all we need is assurance that your attentions will be entirely on us, here, full-time, and the contract is yours. And Mr. Cochran?”
“Yes?” I respond trying to hide all of the nervous energy that is bubbling up inside of me.
“Trust me when I say, you and your company want this contract.” He reaches into his pocket and pull out a piece of paper, then slides it across the desk. I pick it up, look at it, and don’t understand.
“What is this? An account number?”
They laugh. “No, Mr. Cochran. That’s how much we’ll pay you.”
My jaw drops.
“Per five-year contract. At the end of every five years, we’ll reevaluate our situation, and if we’re all happy with how things are going, we will re-up. With a .5% increase in payment.”
I sink down into my chair like the I’m a balloon that has just been popped. This is too good to be true! This is… oh, shit. This is too good to be true.
“Is what you do illegal? Is that why we’re going through all the pretext? Because if you’re operating some sort of illegal business, I can’t and I won’t get my family involved.” I am actually confident my father would take the money regardless, but I’m not my father. The men just laugh and shake their heads.
“On the contrary, Mr. Cochran, what we do is quite the opposite of illegal. But that is for another time. Please, consider our offer. And then, call the number on that card. We’ll give you twenty-four hours to think it over.”