Finding Lundon

"Smirnov." "Good afternoon, Mr. Smirnov. How are you?" I ask, wincing as my voice cracks on the last note. It must be be the exhuastion I feel deep from my eyes right to my feet. At least this is my last call and then I can go collapse on my bed, but not before taking care of Chloe. A full minute must have passed with me daydreaming before I finally realize that Mr. Smirnov is yet to respond. I hope he's not the creepy silent type that accept calls but say nothing until I am forced to hang up. "Mr. Smirnov, are you still there?" I try again. "Who are you looking for?" his voice is sensually deep, complete with some sort of accent I don't recognize, it sends shivers down my spine. "You're speaking to Lundon Njoku-calling from The Financial Pub. I'm not sure if now is the convenient time to talk?" My voice cracks again, I know I sound nervous on the phone which is never a good thing when you're a salesperson but we can just blame that on my overall social awkwardness...but also this man, to say he sounds intimidating is putting it mildly, there's a dangerous quality to his voice, I heard it as he'd demanded to know who I was looking for. "Then why are you calling if you're not sure?" I pause, momentarily caught off guard. It's pathetic really, I have been working here for six months but the rude ones always blindside me. I remind myself not to return the gesture, all calls are recorded, and I doubt Carol would be pleased, besides, I am not that brave. I make myself smile and reply with a mellifluous, "The reason I am calling, Mr. Smirnov, is to let you in on the fantastic offer that I don't want you to miss out on. It will not only benefit you but the world as well. Isn't that great, knowing that you can help change the world?" He laughs in return, cold and condescending. I'm not sure what's funny here but I awkwardly wait through it, hoping it will end soon. It's 04:58 pm, I really hope this call won't go over the two remaining minutes. "Emotional blackmail, huh?" I'm silent for a while, not really knowing how to respond. The nerves are increasing by the second, and I'm sure my voice will crack again as soon as I come up with a response. Which I probably should, the longer I spend with the devil spawn, the later I'll get home and the grumpier Chloe will be. "No, sir. Just trying to help change the next person's life and improve yours. I'd love to subscribe you to The Financial Pub magazine that you can access online and then donate the hard copy to the next person-an aspiring accountant, CFO, CEO, or business person in the making. We have an unbiased list featuring a variety of charities and colleges that would benefit from you taking this subscription. You can indirectly impart someone else with knowledge for only $50 per month." He doesn't respond, I use that opportunity to continue. "You're a businessman too, right sir?" "Yes." "That's great, so you know how hard it is for upcoming entrepreneurs when they have no support system at all, but with all these beautiful idea that would probably improve life as we know it. Wouldn't it feel good to know that at least one successful person is where they are because your subscription made sure that they got The Financial Pub magazine which features specific and detailed business trends, financial news and advises from reputable sources within the business world?" Another pause, but I think I have his attention now. "And you're not only possibly empowering the next you, Mr. Smirnov, but you're benefiting, too. You'll keep track on the latest business trends and what's happening with the economy, both local and international. All this at your fingertips, wherever you are in the world. Not only that, we feature these upcoming entrepreneurs I told you about, maybe you could invest in their businesses, their ideas, and indirectly groom the next you. I think it's a great initiative." "You really want this sale, don't you?" Another laugh, but it's not malicious this time, in fact, it's one of the few kindest ones I've heard all day. "I do," I admit, although maybe it sounds too desperate. "But it doesn't take away what a great offer this is or what magnificent changes your fifty dollars could do for the next person." "Your name again?" "Lundon Njoku." My heart is jumping inside my throat, if I get this sale, I'll have to pat myself on the shoulder. I usually don't put in this much effort, I avoid any impending conflicts at all costs...and this man, he'd sounded dangerous from the onset. "How old are you?" "24, sir." I don't have time to question why he's asking, I just respond. "Alright, call me on Friday morning. I want to talk to my accountant before I agree to anything." I would laugh were I not thinking that I'm being played here. This guy's a millionaire, I may not know him personally, but we sell subscriptions to wealthy sons of bitches, businessmen and women, and the elite. How will 50 dollars dent his bank balance? He probably wouldn't even notice if it got stolen. "No problem, sir." A little sullen note betrays me, I fake a smile and continue. "Please provide me with the convenient time?" "I'll be working all day, so this time? I'll squeeze in five minutes." "04:55...okay, I got that. I'll call you on Friday." There's another pause as my eyes glide over to the computer screen, I look at the time and scream internally. 05:02 pm! My mind has already left the office, I'm thinking about home, about what to eat, I don't have any left over foods so I'll have to cook. And then maybe I'll call my mom...but most importantly I want to see Chloe. "Very good, Lundon." I hear sound in my ears. The compliment makes me uncomfortable, out of place, and I don't know how to respond, not that Mr. Smirnov gives me the chance to. His deep suave voice sounds in my ear again, "You have a lovely voice, too. I'm impressed by how you managed to convince me. We'll talk on Friday." I smile, without meaning to, and then frown in confusion. I hope he's not saying this just to console me, or out of pity. He didn't subscribe after all. "Thank you, sir. Goodbye." I sense that he's about to say something else and quickly hang up. My mood is a little sour as I pack my stuff, and prepare to go home, all caused by a man I don't even know. It's just I hate it when they compliment me, I wish they wouldn't lie like that.