The boss settled back into his chair and put his feet up on the desk. He sighed as his fingers interlaced behind his head and he closed his eyes. It had been a long day and most of us were exhausted. I think I handled about three dozen clients myself, and I wasn’t even in the top ten percent of agents. I was ready to doze off for a about a century.
Not the boss, though. He didn’t get tired. Sure, he was old. Really old. He’d been doing this job for longer than any of the rest of us had even been here, but he never slowed down. Passionate about the work, I guess.
Lately even the boss had been having a rough time, though. He’d been dealing with one of the special clients, as he always did. Sure, his job was primarily supervision over the rest of us, but for certain individuals he took on the case himself. This most recent one had clearly been a challenge even for him.
“This will all have been worth it once I’m done with him, Leonard,” he said to me. He didn’t open his eyes or even move, and it surprised me when he spoke. Few of us from the lower levels ever got more than a nod from the boss. I wasn’t really sure if I should respond.
When I didn’t, he opened his eyes. He looked my way, nothing but his eyeballs moving even a smidgen. “I don’t mind if you say something, Leonard.”
I quickly placed the last of my day’s logs into the appropriate bin and bowed slightly toward him. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not really sure what the right response is. You’re the best there is at this work, sir. Isn’t it always worth it?”
He laughed at this. It was a full laugh from somewhere deep in his chest. “The praise is appreciated, but no. I’m afraid they are not always worth it.” he put his feet back on the ground and grabbed the armrests, as if to help him stand. But he didn’t stand. He leaned toward me a bit. Just enough to give me a brief concern that I was in trouble. Again.
“Leonard, I have had some glorious failures. Glorious.” He mimicked some sort of explosion with both hands and rolled his eyes. “People have told stories of my failures. Sung songs!” Then he laughed again. “Broadway musicals, even!”
I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable at that point. I’d heard the boss could be a little over-the-top at times, but I hadn’t witnessed it first hand before. I faked a smile. “That’s funny, sir,” I said. “Broadway musicals!” I forced a chuckle and turned to leave.
“This one’s like an addictive gambler, though, Leonard,” he continued, making it impossible for me to leave without seeming rude. Being rude to the boss was absolutely not something you wanted to do.
He kept talking. “He keeps getting himself in deeper, and I keep bailing him out. His bill is so high now that he can’t even pay it himself. I had to give him extra time and the tools to bring us additional income. I’m hoping he doesn’t manage to screw this up as well.”
I nodded and smiled again. It was, of course, wonderful news, but it would mean even more work for us agents on the lower levels. We’d never admit it, but most of us yearned for the old days when business wasn’t quite so robust. “I’m certain it will work out exactly as you planned, sir,” I said, hoping to be able to get out of there without more small talk.
Then the phone rang. The red one.
I didn’t move at first. The red phone rarely rang. The blue phone would ring much more regularly, but no one but the boss was allowed to answer that one. When the red phone did ring, the boss required that someone else answer it, act like he was very busy, and make them wait for him. No one else was here, so that meant I’d have to do it.
He glared at me, tilting his head toward the phone as it rang again.
I swallowed hard, stepped to the desk, and picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
The person on the other line spoke frantically for a few moments. It was the special client the boss had just been speaking of. I let him talk for a while, but didn’t really care what he was saying. After a spell, he stopped.
“You’ll need to wait,” I said calmly. “He’s very busy.” I touched the black button on the phone’s base.
The boss didn’t have to ask, but he did anyway. “Is it him?”
I handed the receiver to his outstretched hand, careful not to actually touch him. “Yes, Satan, sir. It’s Mr. Trump.”
