Sorcerer (3 page)

Jeff nodded.

“Are you feeling all right?”  Mr. Hope adjusted his already perfectly positioned necktie.  “You look a tad
peaked
.”

“I apologize.  I’m just tired, haven’t been sleeping particularly well.”  Jeff cleared his throat and sat up straighter in the chair.  “So what exactly does your company sell?”

“Oh, I’ve been in sales for years now, little of this, little of that, but a long while ago I found my niche in insurance.”

Inwardly, Jeff cringed.  In sales circles the only thing worse than selling cars was selling insurance.  It was the end of the road for most salespeople, and unless you were exceptionally good at it and more than a little lucky, insurance was one tough way to earn a living.  “I don’t mean to be rude, but if it’s a position in insurance sales you’re offering, I—”

“I don’t recall
offering
 anything.”

Jeff drew a deep breath.  “I understand.  I’m just not interested in—”

“Tell me about your last job.”  The old man put an elbow on the table and let his chin rest in his hand, those severe green eyes glittering like emeralds.

“I worked for a company over on Tremont Street,” Jeff explained.  “Unfortunately the big discount chains made it impossible for us to stay in business.  Twelve years and just like that I’m out on the street.”

“Dreadful,” Hope sighed, “positively dreadful.  Do you have a family?”

“I’m married but we don’t have children.”

“Does your wife work?”

“She’s a receptionist.”

“At least you’ve got her income.”  He seemed more upset with the situation than Jeff was.  “It’s unforgivable the way companies treat people nowadays.  Shameful, particularly in this economy, or lack thereof, I should say.”

“Well, I like to think that any good salesman isn’t unemployed long.”

“That’s a sound philosophy, young man.”  Hope looked away a moment, as if he’d slipped into deep thought.  “I understand you’re not interested in selling insurance, and while that is part of what we do here at
International
Facilitator
,
Inc.
, it’s only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.  We sell many things and offer many services.  Tell me Jeff, do you have your heart set on a sales position, or might you be interested in a slightly different line of work?”

“Sales and sales management are the only things I’ve ever done.”

“Then maybe it’s time to try something new.”  

“Maybe it is.”

“Remember the old tale about the man that discovers a genie in a bottle, frees him, and is granted three wishes?”  He smiled warmly, revealing a large set of chalk-white teeth that were obviously dentures.  “Have you ever thought about the wishes you’d make if you were that man?”

Oh spare me
, Jeff thought,
here comes one of those lame scenario deals where he makes a point, shows you how clever he is then thinks your answers will actually give him some deep insight into who you are
.  “Not really, no.”

Mr. Hope slowly blinked his eyes.  “I know it sounds silly, but it’s actually a good way to gage a person.  One’s answers tend to reveal an awful lot about the individual.”

Fine, just play along.
  “Makes sense.”

“If you could have only one wish, Jeff, what would it be?”

“You mean besides world peace?”

His answer seemed to amuse the old man.  “Yes, besides that.”

“I’d like to be financially independent.”

“Go on.”

“If I never had to worry about covering the rent or credit card bills, car payments—all of it—if I could live without having to worry about all that stuff and just be financially independent, I’d be the happiest man in the world.”

“You want to be rich then?”

“That’d be nice, but I’d be happy just being comfortable enough to be able to pay our bills and live life without constantly having to worry about money.”

“And what would you say if I told you I could grant such a wish?”

“Let me guess.  You’re a genie.”

“Wouldn’t
that
 be something?”  The old man laughed heartily and waved a liver-spotted hand in the air.  “No, no, I’m just a businessman, Jeff.  Although, at the risk of sounding rather crude, a very successful, wealthy businessman.”

“Well you certainly have my attention, sir.”

“Good, because the position I think might be right for you pays quite well.  If you’re able to perform your job successfully, it could easily yield a level of compensation that would make your wish for financial independence a reality.  So as you can imagine, we don’t just interview anyone for this kind of position.  It takes someone special.  Are you special, Jeff?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“You seem like a nice young man, a bright, articulate, hardworking and conscientious fellow, someone who could not only use a break, but someone who deserves one.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“Jeff, I’ve spent my life reading people.  In sales you have to immediately discern a person’s strengths and weaknesses, you know that yourself.  The best salespeople are excellent judges of character, and use that to their advantage.  I’ve been around a long time.  I know a good man when I see one.  You’re just down on your luck, that’s all.”

Jeff crossed his legs and attempted a relaxed posture.  “So what kind of position are we talking about then?”

“Specifically, I have an opening for a negotiator.  My company employs several to handle negotiations with clients when it becomes necessary or when it’s beneficial for us or both parties.  I’ve found those with sales backgrounds tend to be perfect for the positions.”

“I see,” Jeff said, though he had no idea what he was talking about.  “So, negotiations as in…”

There was a soft but sudden knock on the interior door.  As Mr. Hope turned in its direction, it opened and a mousy middle-aged woman in a frumpy dress leaned into the room, her brown eyes comically large due to a pair of eyeglasses with black plastic frames and unusually thick lenses.  “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but you have an extremely important phone call.”

“Thank you, Ms. Gill.  Tell whoever it is I’ll be with them momentarily.”  He struggled to his feet with a weary sigh as the woman retreated, closing the door behind her.  “Jeff, go ahead and fill out an application.”  He slid the clipboard over to him.  “It’s just a formality, really, but a necessary one.  I won’t be long.  This shouldn’t take but a minute or two.  And help yourself to a cup of coffee, perhaps a donut.”

Once Hope had left the room, Jeff took a look at the application.  It was generic and unimaginative and requested little beyond the basics: full name, address, social security number, phone number, education and work history and two lines for references, one personal, one professional.  He considered the application a moment, unsure if he wanted to continue.  
You’ve come this far, he thought.  Might as well stick it out and see what happens.  What happened earlier is over and done with, and nothing can ever change that now
.  He sighed, ran a hand over his face and back through his hair then picked up the pen lying next to the clipboard.  A new and lucrative career could solve all their problems.  
You’ve done some stupid-ass shit in your life, but you really stepped in it this time, boy.  You fucked up, and huge, but this might be a way to do something right.  If this job pays as well as Hope says it does and you get it, you could go to Eden with some good news for a change
.  
Clear your head and get in the game, moron, this could be your one chance to really come through for you and your wife.  And you owe her, you piece of shit
.  

Jeff poured himself a cup of coffee then filled out the application.

While awaiting Mr. Hope’s return, he heard strange shuffling sounds in the hallway behind him, and then muffled voices beyond the door on the back wall.  Jeff couldn’t be certain but one of the voices sounded like Hope.  The tone indicated he was reprimanding someone, though it was hard to tell for sure.

Not long afterward, Foster Hope returned to the room, closed the door and sat in the chair he’d occupied earlier.  “I apologize for the interruption.  I’m sure you understand these things are often unavoidable.”

“Perfectly understandable, sir,” Jeff said, game face firmly in place.

  “Where were we?”

“We were about to discuss specifics regarding the negotiator position.”

“Of course.”   He crossed his legs and assumed a more relaxed posture.  “I’m from the old school—call me foolish if you will—but I’ve never believed in the need for formal written contracts unless it’s absolutely necessary to protect both parties.  In my day, for the most part, a person’s word was sufficient.  And do you know why, Jeff?  Because in my day one’s word had significance and meaning, it meant something beyond words or even intentions.  It had weight, do you understand?”

“I do.”

He gave a sheepish shrug.  “At any rate, due to the way in which I sometimes conduct business, it becomes necessary for one of my negotiators to convince clients that they need to do the right thing.  Settle their accounts, fulfill whatever they agreed to in a given business deal, etc.  Most of the time it’s a simple oversight or miscommunication, but now and then people actually try to double-cross us.  Regardless, these matters must be attended to and resolved, and that’s where the company negotiators come in.”

“Isn’t that why God created lawyers?”

“I promise you, God had nothing to do with the creation of lawyers.”  Hope chuckled softly.  “No, these situations are delicate and need to be handled with the utmost care, professionalism and above all, discretion.  Those who can perform these duties well are not easy to find, Jeff, so when we come across someone we feel is right for the job we pay them handsomely.”

That’s the deal then, this is some sort of criminal enterprise
, Jeff thought.  
I should’ve known this was all too good to be true
.  “With all due respect Mr. Hope, I’m a salesman, not a leg-breaker.  If you want to hire a goon to lean on people there are plenty of characters in the city that do that kind of thing.  I’m just not one of them.”

“No, you misunderstand, that’s not what I’m looking for at all.  I
abhor
violence, even the mere threat of it.  I’ve seen violence, real violence, and there’s nothing glamorous or appealing about it, trust me.  Anyone that’s ever traversed a battlefield will tell you the same thing.  I simply need someone to calmly and rationally convince delinquent clients that it’s in everyone’s best interest if they do the right thing.  It’s a negotiation, not a threat or intimidation.  Who better than a gifted salesman like yourself to talk to someone and sell them, in a sense, on the appropriate course of action?  Besides, the kind of scum you’re referring to are wholly unnecessary in these situations.  It’s been a personal policy of mine for years to never deal or interact in any way with those sorts of individuals.  Frankly, they scare me.  I’m a legitimate businessman, Jeff, not a criminal.”  Mr. Hope scratched at his cheek delicately and smiled.  “I need people I can trust, people with ethics and morals, businesspeople, professionals.  I need someone who can do this job correctly, in a civil manner, and if that someone has a particular need that I’m in a position to meet by hiring them in exchange for their services, all the better.  Of course even if we did decide to offer you the position, were you to find it unsuitable, simply resign and we’ll part as friends.  But hopefully you’d find it to your liking, remain with us and excel in the position.  However you must also understand that you’d begin on a trial basis.  Generally the period only lasts the length of a single assignment, and we make a decision from there whether it’s working for us or not.  Again, if not, we part as friends.  But if we like what we see once you’re in action then we move forward together and welcome you permanently to the
International Facilitator
 family.”  

Though Hope’s explanation helped to soften his initial apprehension, he wasn’t sure he liked the emphasis the old man put on the word
permanently
.  It was an odd conversation at best, and with a total stranger to boot, but curiosity had slowly gotten the better of him.  He still knew virtually nothing in terms of specifics, but that would come later.  He needed this job and the hefty salary promised along with it.  “Well I hope we can pursue this then,” he said.  “I think I’d like to learn more and see where it takes me.”

“Splendid.”  Hope rose to his feet and gave Jeff a pat on the shoulder.  “We’ll review your application information and someone will be back to you very shortly, most likely later this evening or perhaps tomorrow.  If you haven’t heard from us by tomorrow evening you can assume we’ve decided to go in a different direction.  I thank you for your time.”

“Not at all, thank
you
, sir.”  Jeff stood and they shook hands.  “I look forward to hearing from you.”

“I take it you can see yourself out.  Good day.”

Jeff watched the old man turn and stride off through the door, uncertain if this was the luckiest day of his life, a total waste of a few hours, or if he’d just met the Devil himself.

-4-

When Jeff returned to his apartment building he saw that the homeless man had again taken up position on the front steps.  Though it annoyed him he was too distracted by everything that had taken place that morning to give a damn.  Rather than confront him he simply flashed the man a dirty look then started up the stairs without comment.

“You should stay away from her.”

Jeff froze, slowly turned back to him.  “Excuse me?”

“The woman you were talking to before.”  The man looked up at him.  “You should stay away from her.”

Anger welled in him, followed by a touch of fear.  “What woman?”

“The pretty one you were talking to in Copley Square.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.”

“Have you been following me?”

The man shook his head and sighed.

“Answer me,” Jeff said, moving a step closer.