Page 26 of Catching a Con Man

“What was that?” Ade prodded again.

“My job… That was my job going down the drain. Shit, Ade. I…I can’t be here, can I? Not even for a weekend. I cannot pretend to be someone like you, because this is what happens.”

“We can solve this,” Ade said. “I can…I’ll give you a job. Anything you want, any wage.”

I snorted. “No. No way. If we’re doing…whatever this is, I’m not compounding this crazy power imbalance any more by being your secretary. I don’t want to owe you anything more than…well, I owe you a lot.”

“But…” Ade looked exasperated. “Pack your bags, come on. Let’s go.”

I pointed at the pile of shopping bags in the corner. “Like you, I brought nothing. Over there is all I have, and another thing I owe you for.”

“Can’t you see you owe me nothing?” Ade rolled his eyes, but pulled on his clothes and grabbed the bags in both hands. “Come on. Let’s go to the hangar.”

* * *

I looked out of the window at the fluffy white clouds, only in the harshest daylight and heading back to reality they had lost their charm a little bit. Ade had seen my mood and kept a respectful distance, but now and then I’d hear him huff as he read through his emails. It seemed we had both been avoiding a good chunk of our lives on our little two-day jaunt to heaven.

“Do you think Holden will be angry we left without saying goodbye?” I asked.

“I think Holden’s hospitality was stretched to its limit. He’ll be thrilled that we’re gone,” said Ade. “Not that he didn’t love you, he really seemed to take to you. But he chooses to be so hard to contact for a reason, and that’s because he likes the solitude.”

“I can’t imagine…” I muttered. I had logged my shitty phone into Ade’s plane Wi-Fi to try and text my boss, but every message was undeliverable. I’d called in sick once in a year of working there, and this was the thanks I got. But then again, he always had been a prick.

“So, about this job I’m offering you…” Ade said after a minute.

“No. No way. I told you, it’s not happening.”

“Just…will you listen?” Ade asked. “I have you held hostage thousands of metres in the air, so the least you can do is listen.”

“Ade, I like you. I really do. But we’re from two completely separate worlds. I don’t think you understand how you dangling money under my nose just makes this whole relationship…kinda seedy.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I’d have invested in your company long before we slept together!” Ade said.

“I don’t have a company! I work in a shitty little corner shop for fuck all money, hauling boxes and taking money from old ladies…or at least, I did.”

“So matching wealthy people to causes that most need them isn’t important to you?” Ade smiled.

“I. Was. Scamming. You.” I gritted out.

“It. Was. A great. Idea.” Ade mimicked my tone. “Seriously, had you just presented the idea to my charitable foundation, I’d have snapped it up.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” I gestured to the sky outside the window. “Your foundation wouldn’t have given me the time of day.”

There was silence for a minute, and I couldn’t take my eyes off Ade’s fingers as he drummed them on the table. “Do you think that you self-sabotage?” he asked.

“I work hard for everything I have, so no,” I said.

“That seems more like a yes to me. I understand youhaveworked hard your whole life for everything. You’ve struggled and scraped, and you’ve suffered. So why now, when I offer you the chance to do something you couldn’t have done otherwise, are you turning it down? You’re right, my foundation might have rejected you out of hand. But now I’m offering, on a silver platter, the chance to do something good. And you’re rejecting me out of hand because I don’t think you want life to come easy to you. You enjoy being downtrodden. You say this creates a crazy power imbalance between us. I say this levels the playing field more than anything else. Create a business plan, send it direct to me and I willdecideif it’s worth my time to support. But if you’d rather go back to looking for jobs that hardly pay the bills, you go ahead and do that.”

“Ade…” I started. But I didn’t know how I wanted the sentence to end. “Can you let me…just think? That’s all I ask, a chance to think.”

I knew what he was offering me was a fantastic opportunity. I knew he was offering me stability where I’d never had any, a chance I’d never had. But I didn’t want Ade as my boss, holding the purse-strings of whatever it was we were outside of work. I just neededtime.

Ade

Despite having access to private chefs and luxury restaurants beyond most people’s price-ranges, my mother loved to cook a Sunday roast for the whole family whenever she could. And for the first time in months, we were all able to sit round the table together and eat. In theory.

I was leaning up against the counter in the kitchen, checking work emails as my mother flitted around the place, checking the softness of the veg, the heat of the oil for the Yorkshire puddings and whether her joint of beef was sufficiently cooked.

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