“Doesn’t it seem suspicious that he would want to get rid of the shares in a company that he believed so much in and was going to make an offer on?”
“Again, I don’t know. I’m not privy to how he makes his investing decisions or purchasing decisions. Is that illegal?”
“There’s more to the investigation, but that’s all for now. That’s a nice painting there,” the man said as he noticed my new large painting I had purchased a few weeks prior.
“Yes, it’s new.”
“Interesting that a man of your stature would be fond of childlike artistry and prostitutes.”
“What?” I asked in total shock.
It was bad enough the guy was making fun of my art taste, but why the hell was he saying I liked prostitutes? That was absolutely not the truth, and I started to get worried that his guy wasn’t who he said he was.
“That woman you were out with a few nights ago – she’s a known prostitute and swindler. You should be more careful of the company you keep,” he said as he made his way toward the door.
“Who? Delilah? She is not a prostitute! And what do you know about who I date? Am I being followed? Am I under investigation?”
This guy had some nerve coming into my house and pretending to be investigating my old partner when he really wanted to get to me. It couldn’t be legal to get information the way he was. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Even if there was some sort of investigation, I would have had some contact with the agency.
All my alarms were going off about this guy. The problem was he was the size of a bus and not really the type of person I wanted to mess with.
“Hey, what’s your badge number?” Josh asked as he grabbed a piece of paper to write the information down. He must have been feeling the same weird sense that this guy wasn’t who he said he was.
“You stay out of this or I’ll make sure you have a full investigation on your trading practices, as well, Mr. Josh Market.”
“I know the law and if I ask you for your badge number, you are required to give it to me. I am asking for your badge number, sir.”
The guy in the suit didn’t look like the type you wanted to mess with. He stopped dead in his tracks and used his muscular hand to straighten out his tie while he stared at Josh and me. We both were pretty damn close to pissing ourselves as his intense gaze looked at us like he wanted to break our necks.
The way he stood there without moving had me wondering what I would do if he didn’t leave? I certainly couldn’t force the guy out of my house; he was at least twice my size. I looked at Josh, who continued to stare at the man in the suit – who started to move toward both of us.
“Hey, hey, now. Let’s calm things down,” I interjected. “Is there an issue with giving us your identification? It seems to me that a legitimate investigation would mean that I had a right to contact your office. Just give me your badge number and I’ll be in contact, it’s as simple as that.”
“I don’t take orders from scum like you,” he said.
“Okay, well, I appreciate that you don’t like to take orders. Is there some other way we could verify who you are?”
Negotiating was one of my best skills. I had worked large corporations over for millions and they thanked me in the end. Being nice and compromising when it was possible was necessary in any situation.
Unfortunately, this Antonio Pryor person didn’t seem like the type who liked to negotiate. He seemed more like the kind of guy the mob hired to go break someone’s knee caps…if that sort of thing was still going on in the world.
“You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” he turned toward me.
There was one time in the sixth grade that a bully had started to pick on me because of the sports team I liked. I felt almost the same way as I did in that very moment as this big dude in a suit moved closer to me. I couldn’t think of a way out of the situ
ation, and I didn’t want to think about how easily I would cry when he laid his hands on me.
“If you touch him, I’ll kill you,” Josh said with all the confidence of the nerd he was.
By that point, both Josh and I were visibly sweating, and it was pretty obvious we were scared to death. Neither of us were the fighting type. People loved me – I didn’t have to fight with anyone. People liked Josh, too; he was the funny guy everyone was friends with.
“I think you should leave,” I managed to say in a solid voice without quivering.
I would have fought him. No doubt about it, I would have thrown some pretty damn good punches and put up a fight. But I would have lost. Hell, both Josh and I together couldn’t have taken this guy; not to mention he looked like the type who was probably carrying a gun, as well.
“Kiss my ass,” the man said as he quickly turned and walked out the front door. “The next time I come here, I won’t be so forgiving.”
This was not happening. My hands turned clammy, and I tried to get a good look at the man’s license plate as he sped off, but I couldn’t. Nothing about the situation seemed right. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt fear like I did while he had been in my house.