first time since they’d left the hotel. “Ready?”
Looking into her eyes he found it impossible to be angry with her or to feel anything but the primal attraction that had gotten him into this in the first place. He nodded submissively and forced a smile.
Once inside the unmarked building they arrived at a modest reception area, but the desk where a receptionist should’ve been sitting was empty. The office space was clearly a short-term rental, had a transient, unfinished feel and possessed no indicators that identified it as belonging to or being associated with any particular company or cause. Just beyond the reception area a row of plastic chairs sat in a line against the wall along a narrow hallway leading deeper into the building. Jessica told him to have a seat then slipped into the first office, closing the door behind her.
The building was eerily quiet, the usual din of city noises hushed here. Somewhere far off, the sound of a slowly dripping faucet echoed about with maddening repetition, but he couldn’t quite hone in on its point of origin. At the very end of the hallway, in an open doorway which led to another part of the building he couldn’t make out from there, Jeff noticed a man who looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties standing in the shadows. Was he waiting for an interview too, was he an employee, or was this F. Hope? Dressed in an inexpensive black suit, a white shirt and a skinny black tie, the man was unusually tall-probably close to seven feet-and thin to the point of appearing emaciated. He was bald with pointed features, his face long, drawn and skeletal.
Though he was a good thirty feet away, Jeff raised a hand, offered an apathetic wave and mumbled, “How’s it going?”
He watched Jeff with the dark, sunken eyes of a man shackled with profound sorrow. His pale thin lips parted, as if he were about to respond, but then he seemed to think better of it, and with a slight nod of his head, turned and disappeared through the doorway.
What the hell am I doing here? Go-I-I should just go. Now, right now.
Jeff dropped his face into his hands and fought the desire to weep. He’d never felt so alone in his life. After a moment he looked up. There was no one else around, why not just get up and leave?
He was about to do just that when the office door opened and an elderly man poked his head out. “Mr. McGrath?”
“Yes.”
“Please.” The man stepped back and opened wide the door. He was dressed in a cream-colored summer suit, his snow-white hair neatly combed into place, straight back and away from a face with badly aged features. Jeff guessed that in the man’s youth those same features had been chiseled, and he’d probably been quite handsome. “Won’t you come in?”
On shaky legs, Jeff entered the windowless office. Sparsely furnished, with only a meeting table and two plastic chairs, there was a box of donuts, a coffeemaker and a stack of Styrofoam cups at one end, and a clipboard with a standard employment application at the other. On the far wall, another door through which Jessica had apparently gone prior to his arrival stood closed.
“Hope,” the man said, offering his hand, “Foster Hope.”
“Jeff McGrath.” As they shook hands Jeff was struck by how clammy Hope’s palm was. Like shaking hands with a corpse, he thought. And is he kidding with that name?
“Since I’m sure you’re wondering,” he said with a wry smile, “yes, that is my real name. You don’t honestly think I’d make up such a thing, do you?”
“No, sir,” he answered, attempting a smile of his own.
Hope released his hand and motioned to one of the chairs. “Take a seat.”
Jeff slid into the chair closest to the door as the old man sat in the other. Hope shifted his position so he was facing Jeff. With a small frame and pale complexion, he was rather unremarkable, except for a pair of piercing green eyes that were so bright they looked artificial. Jeff figured them for contact lenses.
“So you’re looking for work.”
It wasn’t a question but he answered it anyway. “I am.”
“Hardly uncommon these days, I’m sorry to say.”
“Rough economy right now,” Jeff agreed, “lots of people out of work.”
“I’m actually semi-retired,” the old man said. “As luck would have it I did quite well for myself, but my time’s passing. There comes a day in everyone’s life when it’s time to step aside for the next generation of go- getters.”
“Plenty of go-getters,” Jeff said, “just not enough jobs.”
“Of course it was a different time when I was coming up. I went to war when I was young, but once it was over and I came home my father built a house for my new family and me and we settled in nicely. Things were different then, easier, not so complicated as the world’s become since. At any rate, he was quite talented in that regard, my father, one of those men with a natural gift for building things, you know the type. I always envied him that, as I had absolutely no skill in those areas whatsoever. I’d always been a good talker, though, had the gift of gab as they say, and I’m a good negotiator, so I became a salesman. Ms. Bell told me you’re in sales too.”
The very mention of Jessica brought visions of Eden crashing down on him again. Guilt struck him like a baseball bat to the back of the head.
“Well at least up until a few months ago, eh?” Hope smiled as if pleased. “Car audio, wasn’t it?”
Jeff nodded.
“Are you feeling all right?” Mr. Hope adjusted his already perfectly positioned necktie. “You look a tad peaked.”
“I apologize. I’m just tired, haven’t been sleeping particularly well.” Jeff cleared his throat and sat up straighter in the chair.
“So what exactly does your company sell?”
“Oh, I’ve been in sales for years now, little of this, little of that, but a long while ago I found my niche in insurance.”
Inwardly, Jeff cringed. In sales circles the only thing worse than selling cars was selling insurance. It was the end of the road for most salespeople, and unless you were exceptionally good at it and more than a little lucky, insurance was one tough way to earn a living. “I don’t mean to be rude, but if it’s a position in insurance sales you’re offering, I-”
“I don’t recall offering anything.”
Jeff drew a deep breath. “I understand. I’m just not interested in-”
“Tell me about your last job.” The old man put an elbow on the table and let his chin rest in his hand, those severe green eyes glittering like emeralds.
“I worked for a company over on Tremont Street,” Jeff explained.
“Unfortunately the big discount chains made it impossible for us to stay in business. Twelve years and just like that I’m out on the street.”
“Dreadful,” Hope sighed, “positively dreadful. Do you have a family?”
“I’m married but we don’t have children.”
“Does your wife work?”
“She’s a receptionist.”
“At least you’ve got her income.” He seemed more upset with the situation than Jeff was. “It’s unforgivable the way companies treat people nowadays. Shameful, particularly in this economy, or lack thereof, I should say.”
“Well, I like to think that any good salesman isn’t unemployed long.”
“That’s a sound philosophy, young man.” Hope looked away a moment, as if he’d slipped into deep thought. “I understand you’re not interested in selling insurance, and while that is part of what we do here at International Facilitator, Inc., it’s only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. We sell many things and offer many services.
Tell me Jeff, do you have your heart set on a sales position, or might you be interested in a slightly different line of work?”
“Sales and sales management are the only things I’ve ever done.”
“Then maybe it’s time to try something new.”
“Maybe it is.”
“Remember the old tale about the man that discovers a genie in a bottle, frees him, and is granted three wishes?” He smiled warmly, revealing a large set of chalk-white teeth that were obviously dentures. “Have you ever
