"You want me to go where?" I asked Chris wearily.
"Calabasas." He replied.
"And for what?" I responded.
"I need you to deliver some paperwork to this address. They need to sign for it and approve the content." He explained, quickly adding "Hey, I'd go there myself, but my accountant is coming over and this is the only night he has free and our tax return is gonna be a lot more complex this year so I don't want to rush this."
"But wasn't FedEx invented for times like this? I'm beat, man." I protested. "We've been running around the last 2 weeks, we've got another project starting soon and I'd rather not drive all the way up to, where was it again?"
"Calabasas." Chris said again
This was one time when I was about to put my fist through a door. I was right, we'd been incredibly busy lately. Yes, that's good for a business, but not for me.
"I don't even know where that is!" I said exasperated.
"That's why I'm giving you this." And he dropped a set of keys in my hand. It was the keys to his Porsche convertible. He'd gotten it recently and proudly saw it as a symbol of his hard work.
"Take my car, it has the GPS system in it, I programmed the address in last time I was there so it won't be a problem for you." He explained.
"Alright, alright I'll go." I said.
"Thank you. Look, I know I put you in tough spots, but you have to admit that in the end it's worth it, right?" Chris really sounded sincere at this moment.
I looked around at what our work had gotten us so far. We had a successful business that kept getting bigger and better. Yep, we were big time, just like we dreamed.
"I'll even fill the tank for you." I said as I headed out the door with a smile.
The Porsche was one smooth ride as it navigated the highway. I truly felt like the king of the road with the top down, shades on, and Aerosmith on the sound system. And the GPS did work as expected. I pulled up to the contact address, a boutique called "Dash". It looked like a pretty ritzy place. I looked at the envelope and read the directions on the paperwork. It was to be signed by one Kim Kardashian, and no one else.
Gee, he's being direct in his orders to me.
I walked in to the shop and it was pretty quiet. A pretty young girl asked if she could help me.
"Oh, Hi, I'm from East Coast Image and I have some materials that need to be approved by the owner." I said.
"OK, hang on. Kim! There's somebody here for you!"
From the back of the store walked this vision, no, bombshell of a woman. It suddenly hit me exactly whom I was meeting with. And it was really her.
It was "the" Kim Kardashian alright.
She had on a dark pinstriped pantsuit that really accented her jet black hair and olive colored skin. Her hair wasn't tied back or anything, it was cascading around her shoulders. I think I might've even gasped somewhat when she walked out.
"Hi! Are you Chris' partner?" she asked sweetly.
"Yes, that's me." I replied.
"He told me you'd be coming," She said looking at her watch, one that looked almost diamond-like. "Wow you got up here fast."
"Beginners luck, I guess." I said with a shrug.
"Come on in the back, I've got all the stuff you need." And I followed her into the office area.
