CHAPTER THREE
1301 Words
Today had been nothing short of chaos. His appointment, originally scheduled for an hour from the time of the call, now had only ten minutes left. Andrea had pedaled so hard on his bicycle that by the time he arrived in front of the towering skyscraper, he was drenched in sweat.
Apex Annex—one of the most iconic buildings in the city. It towered above most buildings in the vicinity. Andrea knew it belonged to a billionaire, but he had never paid much attention beyond that. He had never imagined he would have any reason to be here. Standing at the base of the building now, in a simple polo shirt and jeans, he felt completely out of place. Everyone else walking in looked polished and powerful—exactly the opposite of him. For a split of seconds he contemplated going back and just doing away with the money— I mean, he was hungry but not hungry enough to run away with money sent to him by someone related to Apex Annex. So he shook the thought away.
He had a meeting scheduled with the man, and that was all that mattered. He headed for the entrance as quickly as possible, only to be stopped almost instantly by two security guards.
Oh boy… What now?
“Where do you think you’re going?” the first guard asked, eyeing him with obvious suspicion. He had a stern look on his face, one that showed they cared nothing about him and wanted him out of the area.
“I—I have a meeting. Someone inside asked me to come,” Andrea explained, trying to catch his breath.
“You? You have a meeting here?” the second guard asked, incredulous. He scoffed.
“Yes, please. And I am running late already. If you would excuse me, he is expecting me,” Andrea insisted. His past experience with the restaurant taught him all he needed to know about being punctual. He was not taking any chances.
“You little thief,” the first guard snapped. “Did your buddies dare you to see if you could sneak into a place like this?” The first man demanded.
Andrea stared at him, stunned. He could not believe his ears. Was this really happening? For a second, he reconsidered turning around, but something inside pushed him to try.
“First of all sir, I am not a thief. I swear. Someone inside is waiting for me. That is the only reason I am here.” He responded.
“Oh yeah? And who exactly is this someone? Got a name?” the second guard challenged.
“Yes… Alfredo. He said his name is Alfredo,” Andrea said—but realized with horror that he’d forgotten the full name.
“There are plenty of Alfredos. Which one?” the guard pressed.
Andrea racked his brain. “Alfredo Del… Del Castro? No, wait… Del Cosmos. That’s it. Alfredo Del Cosmos.” he said finally. Impressed that he managed to recall it despite being under duress.
The guards looked unimpressed. All they saw was a sweaty, nervous guy in cheap clothes trying to talk his way into a place he clearly did not belong.
Inside, Sarah, the front desk receptionist, had been watching the scene unfold. She remembered receiving a call from her boss nearly an hour ago—he had told her someone important was coming. The young man was to be escorted straight to his office. Seeing the commotion, she wondered if the guards had detained the person her boss was waiting for.
She walked briskly to the entrance.
“What’s going on here, Jean?” she asked the first guard.
“He is a thief. We are about to detain him unless he tells us who else he is working with,” Jean replied.
“I swear, ma’am, I am not a thief!” Andrea said desperately. “I have an appointment with Mr. Alfredo. I have been trying to explain, but they won’t listen. Please, you have to help me.”
Time was running out—he had only minutes left. The last thing he wanted to do was arrive even a minute late, arriving late had played a part in him losing his job although he could hardly deny the fact that the sole cause was Sophia’s betrayal.
However, Sarah looked at him from head to toe as if sizing him up. Skepticism written all over her face. There was no way, in her mind, that someone dressed like him had business with Mr. Del Cosmos. She convinced herself that he must have overheard a conversation between her boss and the supposed guest and was trying to exploit the opportunity to pull off a heist.
She was not going to risk her job over a scammer.
“Do you have any proof of your appointment? A phone recording, maybe?” she inquired.
Damn. His phone didn’t have enough storage for that feature. He had only been using it for basic calls—and the money he had saved for a better one had been handed over to Sophia during one of her dramatic episodes. A regret that now stung even more.
“I am really sorry, Miss I do not have a recording. But please, you can have me escorted in by your security guards. If Mr Alfredo Del Cosmos does not recognize me, you can arrest me. Send me to the cops if you want. Just… let me prove I’m telling the truth.” he said.
He could not believe how far he was willing to go. How had his life become so twisted that he was now gambling with his freedom?
“This guy is dangerous,” Jean muttered. “I bet he has got something strapped to him—a bomb, maybe. He just wants to get close and cause chaos.”
“I’m not a terrorist!” Andrea cried. “Search me if you want!”
“You’ve heard of people implanting bombs inside them like chips, right? Maybe we should call the bomb squad,” the second guard said grimly.
“I think you’re onto something…” Sarah began.
Andrea realized that he had less than two minutes left. If he didn’t act now, the opportunity—whatever it was—would slip away forever.
Then he saw it. A woman approaching the rotating glass door. She stepped into the elevator, coffee in hand.
The guards were still arguing with Sarah. Now or never.
He bolted for the revolving door and pushed his way through before they could react. The guards yelled after him, but he made it. The elevator was closing, but he dove in just in time—colliding hard with the woman inside.
The doors sealed shut.
Relief swept over him—until he turned to see her furious expression.
Oh goodness, not again!
Her once-pristine white blouse was now stained with coffee. She was fuming.
“What have you done?!” she shouted.
Andrea panicked. He pulled out his handkerchief, reaching out to offer it to her.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Before he could finish, she slapped his hand away and exploded.
“You pervert! Are you trying to molest me now?!”
“What? No! I was just giving you this—” he started, trying to explain that he didn't mean for it to happen.
“First, you spill coffee on me, now you try to r**e me? Oh no! I’m traumatized! I’m calling the police!” she screamed, if they were not in an elevator her scream was sure to pull an audience.
Andrea stood frozen, shocked. In one day, he’d been called a moron, a thief, a terrorist, and now—a r****t?
- Writer
