Chapter 3
1552 Words
LUKE
“Something bothering you?” Sarah asked as she took a bite of the lobster-topped tagliolini pasta she was having, her favorite dish for lunch.
Her question yanked me back to the here and now, away from my wandering thoughts.
“Yes, yes... of course, honey,” I replied as quickly as I could. Deferred answers, even if they’re just delayed by a couple of seconds, always annoyed her. My sweetheart wasn’t really the patient type.
“You haven’t touched your food,” she mentioned, her eyes pointing at the medium-rare porterhouse on my plate which probably wasn’t warm anymore.
“Oh... I’m... I’m not really that hungry,” I told her.
“Then why did you order?”
“I don’t know. Force of habit, I guess.”
We always ate lunch together. It was a ritual that we’ve always tried to keep as it was the only time (aside from the occasional after-office dates, of course, though those have become rarer and rarer as the years went by) when we could be together. Sarah and I may be working in the same company, but we were assigned to different stories. She stayed on the fourteenth floor where her dad’s office was. She had her own room there, just adjacent to her father’s. I stayed on the tenth floor most of the time. That’s where the sales people were and I was their boss.
“How’s the Ascension account?” she changed the subject as her eyes went back to her food.
“It’s okay, I guess,” I told her.
“You guess?” she questioned rather irately. Sarah was quite OC with details. She abhorred half-baked answers that terribly lacked information just as much as she hated sweeping disclosures that skipped most of the specifics - including the negligible ones.
“My guy’s about to close it, hon,” I clarified.
“Which guy?”
“DeMont.”
“DeMont who?”
“Will. William Demont.”
“The chubby guy with the receding hairline?”
“Yes, that would be him.”
“He’s been an account executive for less than a year. Can you trust him with closing this deal?”
“He’s very persuasive.”
“But is he thorough?”
“I’d love to think so, yes.”
“You’d love to think so?”
I stifled a sigh and just smiled. I was used to this. Sarah has always been very particular, very meticulous, and very competitive. Simple discussions often led to arguments about some unaccounted facts, some overlooked possibilities, and some decisions which she frequently doubted because she wasn’t the one who made them.
It’s easy to peg her as an impossibly difficult person - unnecessarily fierce, incorrigibly bossy and aggressively mean. But she’s not. Sarah can be the sweetest person in the world... when she’s in the mood. Granted that those moments are sparse, it’s always astutely blissful to experience her like that. She can be the kindest soul as well. She has a soft spot for certain things - a stray cat, dying whales washed ashore, and the sss rainforest in flames. She’s the most generous soul whenever her sympathy’s triggered.
And Sarah can be the most generous lover. She did everything in bed. Everything. All I had to do, as per her instruction, was to lie down and watch her.
“Hello?” she called my attention irately, pulling me out of my musing once more.
“Sorry, hon. What’re we talking about again?”
She clicked her tongue. “Demont,” she reminded me. “You think he’s thorough.”
“Yes.”
“You think? Meaning, you’re not sure?”
“No. I’m certain he can get the job done. He may have been with us for barely a year but he has extensive experience in sales before we hired him.”
“How extensive?”
“Very extensive. Three time Salesman Of The Year awardee at Pierce & Jonas. Recipient of an Outstanding Sales Officer citation from the Massachusetts Chamber of Commerce in 2018. Two time winner of the-”
“Okay, okay,” Sarah interrupted to stop me. I managed to convince her that my man was more than good enough for the job.
That made me smile.
Will Demont was one of my best guys in sales and it made me happy that I was able to defend him from my discerning wife-to-be. He’s one of the more consistent performers in my department, and he has always been nice to me.
Though there was this one time when I overheard him refer to me as Lucky Luke.
Lucky Luke.
That’s what everyone called me at work.
Lucky Luke, the guy who was hired by the company seven years ago.
Lucky Luke, the guy who only managed to produce three sales in his first two years as an account executive.
Lucky Luke, the guy who won the heart of the CEO’s daughter when she was a trainee five years ago.
Lucky Luke, the guy who was promoted to Regional Sales Manager four years ago despite his less than stellar sales record.
Lucky Luke, the guy who was elevated to Vice President of Sales two years ago despite his area’s figures dropping to all time lows during his tenure.
Lucky Luke, the guy who became a member of the board of directors ten months ago and a month after he proposed to the CEO’s daughter.
They never called me by that name in front of my face, of course. They knew how rude and offensive and unprofessional it was. Still, I could hear their whispers from time to time. I have chanced upon their group chats every now and then. I have read some emails on the monitors of the PCs they’ve inadvertently left open after work. I was aware that they were still referring to me by that term. But that wasn’t surprising.
It was, in fact, very accurate.
Lucky Luke.
I was, indeed, lucky.
I was lucky to have met Sarah. I was lucky that she was the boss’ daughter, his only child. I was lucky that our relationship pulled me within the immediate range of the boss’ radar. I was lucky that I was advanced to very prominent positions because the boss, my future father-in-law, was big on relationships more than he was on an employee’s track record. Family above all else, he told me more than once, delivered with a stern look and a firm voice that made those words sound like threats.
“Just make sure he doesn’t screw it up,” Sarah said as she took the last bite of her meal. “I don’t want my father disappointed three weeks before our wedding.”
“Don’t worry, hon. I’ll keep a close eye on him just to be sure,” I assured her.
She asked for the bill and she read some messages on her phone while waiting. She wasn’t really big on couple talks. She preferred to spend whatever free time we had during lunch breaks checking her social media feeds and her emails. That’s alright. We’ll be spending the rest of our lives together really soon. There’ll be a lot of time for meaningful conversations and affectionate exchanges.
While she was busy perusing her online accounts, I wandered once again to the thoughts that’ve been plaguing me since last night.
Jaxter.
Jack.
Of all the jobs in the world, why did he choose to be a stripper? Was he really that nice in real life, or was he just nice to me because I was closely associated with the person who hired him? If he worked at night, what was he preoccupied with during daytime? Why didn’t he believe in marriage? Was he telling the truth when he said that he wasn’t in a relationship at the moment, considering how astonishingly handsome he was? And why was he that buff?
I looked at Sarah. She was still engrossed with whatever she was reading. I took that opportunity to reach for my wallet and pull out the business card he gave me. The details written therein were both intriguing and amusing.
JAXTER D’ STRIPPER
Fireman, Policeman, Pool Boy, Pizza Delivery Guy
Or Whatever You Want Me To Be
Fun Times Guaranteed.
Book Me Now
978-231-4450
At the back was another bit of interesting information.
Watch Me Perform Live Every MWF At
The Velvet Room
317 Mooreshaw Avenue
Warminster, Hampshire
Massachusetts
The address was just a thirty minute commute - two bus rides - away from where I lived. And today’s a Monday.
That got me wondering...
Should I pay him a visit tonight? Should I watch him do what he does for a living? Should I wish for another conversation with him to satisfy a bit of my curiosity about who he was and how he lived his life?
“I’m done,” Sarah suddenly announced as she dropped her phone inside her bag and began to stand up. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” I replied as I, too, got up from my seat to follow the love of my life.
Should I pay him a visit tonight?
Nah, maybe I shouldn’t.
I didn’t want to complicate all the good things that I was blessed with.
- Writer
