The Chosen

banker’s, was empty. general manager, the door’s brass plaque read. It surprised Vera to find the office unlocked. There seemed to be many expensive curios about: Hummel ashtrays, a gold Mont Blanc pen set, and a beautiful gold-and-crystal carriage clock, not to mention a brand-new PC and Hewlett-Packard laser printer. She saw no harm in taking a quick peek into the top desk drawer. Rolls of stamps, clusters of keys, and an enameled cash box. Jesus, she thought. This guy’s not very security conscious. The cash box, too, was unlocked. She flipped it open and noticed a few bands of one hundred and fifty dollar bills. There must be ten or fifteen grand sitting here, she realized, squinting. Lucky for him I’m honest. She was about to reclose the drawer when she noticed something else.

She touched it, slid it out…

A gun.

Vera frowned. All right, it was legitimate for a general manager to have a gun, but that didn’t mean she approved. The gun itself, a revolver, looked big, clunky, and old, like an antique. Perhaps Feldspar owned it as a collector, but if so this whole thing made even less sense. Anybody could walk right in here and take all of this stuff, she thought. It was good to know that Feldspar trusted his people, but this was just plain stupid. She locked the door behind her when she left.

Around the bend came another office. Unlike Feldspar’s, it was locked. Vera frowned hard at its doorplate. room service manager. A third door read, simply, accounting. This addled her. Where’s my office? she complained to herself. Fucking Kyle gets an office but I don’t? Where do I do my work? The goddamn coffee station? A petty complaint, she realized, but it still pissed her off.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Vera turned, almost startled at the voice. “Hello, Kyle,” she said when she recognized him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

His grin flashed white, even teeth. “You’re wondering where your office is, right?”

“Well…yeah.”

“It’s right here.” Immediately he produced a Philips’-head screwdriver and removed the accounting plate. Then he replaced it with a brand-new one. restaurant MANAGER, V. ABBOT.

That’s better, she thought. “Where are you moving the accounting office?”

“You and me, baby,” he jested. “We’re it. But you won’t have to worry about any of the auxiliary bills, like housekeeping and utilities. I’ll be doing all that myself, since I’m more experienced.”

You dick, Vera thought. “What makes you think you’re more experienced at accounting than I am? I’ve got a degree in restaurant and hotel management.”

Kyle shrugged. “A degree means nothing. I’ve been working for Mr. Feldspar for ten years. I know the ropes. Don’t get hot about it.”

Ten years, my ass. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. What, he’d been in the business since he was fifteen?

Kyle stood with his hip cocked and arms crossed, smiling derisively. “Best way to learn is to just jump in there and do it, you know? I started at the bottom and I worked my way up, learned everything. When Mr. Feldspar first took me on, I was peeling potatoes and emptying garbage cans. Now I do the quarterly taxes and all the deduction schedules with my eyes closed.”

Big man, Vera