Page 5 of Mending Our Chance

I gestured at a chair on the opposite side of the university issued desk. I conducted my consulting business in my academic office. While lending an air of credibility as a result of my academic accomplishments, I always felt that it downplayed my worth as a business professional to not have a designated space for the side job. It was on my list of things to do in order to grow my consulting career, but those kind of changes required money.

“I have a job for you,” Harold said, getting right down to business. His eyes raked over my body as a little, pink tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips.

Gross. I pretended not to notice his leer. “You’re straight to the point. I like that.”

He inclined his head as he elaborated, “I have a temporary consulting job for you at my startup company, AVIAF Tech.”

“What does that stand for?” I asked politely, even as my fingers were typing the name into a computer search engine. If I could impress this man by instantly finding something that could be improved on his site, it could increase my odds of being hired. “And what exactly do you need consulting on?”

“I like to think it stands for Bad Ass Wizards in Panzereses, which is a language in the sick game, Panzer Dragoon, where I leveled up…” Catching sight of my raised brow, he checked his spiel and refocused on where our conversation was leading to. “I guess that’s not important. To answer your question, my partner named us. He said it was an old time phrase—some kind of dead language.” Harold suddenly leaned forward and tapped his skull, as if trying to put the words into focus. “Out via, something, invention out of fack-iam? Or something like that. Anyhow, we make computer applications, amongst other things, and—”

But I had stopped listening. This gamer nerd had just butchered one of the oldest Latin phrases: Aut viam inveniam aut faciam. It meant 'either I find a way or I make one’. The icy chill that rippled down my spine had all the hairs on my body standing on end. As I clicked through the computer pages, I knew what I would find. And when I saw the final confirmation, it made my stomach clench.

“Marcus Bowers is your partner,” I interrupted the small man flatly.

“Shit, lady!” Harold leaned back and wiped his damp nose on the back of his hand. Then, he abruptly sat forward and blurted out, “You weren’t supposed to know that piece of information until you had signed the contract.”

I narrowed my eyes and looked the scrawny specimen of a man up and down. Really, Marcus, this is the best you can do?

“What is your role at the company?” I demanded.

“Me?”

No, who else, dip shit! Taking a breath, I pushed my annoyance away as I replied firmly, “Yes, Mr. Graceson, you.”

“I’m a fifty-fifty partner with Marcus. I’m the developer.” Harold actually beamed as he spoke.

I wanted to slam my forehead into the desk’s particle board surface. The silence stretched between us as I forced myself to regain control of my emotions. It showed I was learning to deal with my fiery temper.

Harold spoke again. “Look, there’s a lot of money in this gig, as well as the chance for a fat commission or a bonus.” Scratching his chin, he paused as his beady eyes considered me, before adding the helpful comment, “You would be an idiot to pass up on all the dough. Marcus thinks we’re going to hit a home run with this one.”

I bet he does. However, I couldn’t take the job. “I’m sorry; I just can’t work with that man.”

It pained me to say that, because good, solid income was what I needed right now. I couldn’t stop my eyes from flickering to Auntie Gi’s picture on my desk. We were at the San Diego Zoo, watching an animal demonstration. Those were the good old days, before everything had gone to hell in a hand basket.

“You don’t have to work with him,” Harold piped up. “He said to reel you in any way I could. He said you were the best, with the brightest head for business. He’s the ideas man, I’m the producer, and you’ll be the executer. We can’t do this without the executer. We need you, Ms. Saccone.”

“Mr. Graceson, I’m sorry, but it is just not possible.”

“Marcus is always buried away in his private office,” Harold continued, as if he hadn’t heard me. “You don’t have to see him unless you need to bark orders at him. You’d run the company and get us on our feet.”

As Harold rambled on, I mentally shook my head. This man was some special kind of stupid. I sure hoped Marcus knew what he was doing letting a blundering fool like this develop software. You aren’t supposed to care about the decisions Marcus makes, I chided myself. However, the rebuttal that came back to my mind was far more decisive. You do care. Sure, lie to yourself and say it is because if his business fails, then you fail as a consultant. But you care more about him than you want to admit, don’t you? The self-revelation threw me. One, because I had no idea where it came from, and two, because it was true. I couldn’t sit by and watch him fall. If Hannibal had found a way through the Alps, I could find a way to work with Marcus.

My heart pounded at my mental urging, but it was one that I couldn’t deny, so strong that I found myself opening my mouth and saying, “Okay, I’m in.”

Without stopping to analyze what it was I’d just done, I closed the company page on my computer monitor’s screen and stood up to shake hands with Harold. “Leave a copy of the contracts with me,” I ordered. “I’ll review them as soon as possible and make any amendments I see fit. Then I’ll be in touch to set up a time to sign them.”

Harold just sat there, mouth open, eyes gaping up at me. His teeth were yellow and a few in the back were missing. I cringed but somehow managed to smile encouragingly back at him. I was a professional after all, despite my bad tempered days. I might hate Marcus for reminding me of how foolish I had been to trust that young love stood a chance, but I was now older and wiser and the ball was in my court. This was a good job with lots of money and I’d be stupid to pass it up. And more importantly, it would give me a way to save my aunt. Add in the fact that I wouldn’t need to communicate directly with Marcus, and it was a gift I couldn’t refuse.

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