Rancorous

Chapter 4

FOUR YEARS AGO

Brevin

Uncle Richard's spacious office was entirely pristine and immaculate. From the crisp clean marbled floor to the organized décor, it was all luxurious and expensive. I had never seen such an abstract design of an artwork in his office. It looked like a large swirl made out of gold mounted on a black cube. The whole ambient was minimalistic, yet extravagant.

"I know you've had a chance to see what my architectural firm is all about. I need organization. I need cooperation. I need obedience. After all, if a worker of mine doesn't follow instructions, they are ultimately jeopardizing my company and myself." Uncle Richard swiftly overviewed some files with an expressionless face. It was as if he was watching paint dry instead of reading important papers. I realized that I never saw him smile, or laugh, or show any other signs of natural human emotions.

"Have you ever smiled before, uncle?"

He snapped his eyes up, but as always I never knew what he was feeling. My guess was as good as the next person. "I've told you this before Brevin, emotional people are weak. People make terrible decisions when they are guided by what they feel rather than focusing on what's rational. If you want to fake emotion, do it when there's a favorable consequence. But, that's for another day to discuss." Gliding open a cabinet, he tucked his files away before standing up and closing one button on his suit. "Follow me."

We walked out of his office and into an elevator. Stopping at a floor lower, we entered a room full of cubicles with the sound of people talking filling up the room to the brim. The chatter fluctuated as some didn't know whether they should speak louder are quieter with my uncle in the room.

I never failed to note the way in which all of my uncle's workers avoided eye contact with him unless it was necessary. The power he held over any room was palpable. My uncle wasn't a particularly tall man. He was average when it came to height. But with the way he was dressed, and the way people treated him, I perceived him as ten feet tall. My uncle was right, wealth and power felt refreshing and fascinating.

He continued down an aisle full of cubicles and halted by a man that looked to be about forty years old or so. His dark, almost black hair was salted with gray strands. He continued to talk on the phone to a potential employer, but I could see the beginnings of a red tone gaining on his face. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he wiped it away as he ended the call on a good note.

"Good afternoon Mr. Romes." His eyes darted down on his desk.

"Did you secure the job?" The room had quieted down the most miniscule amount, still my uncle sounded like the loudest voice in the room.

The man cleared his throat before answering. "They were too busy at the moment to concur on specifics, but they agreed to continue deliberating tomorrow."

"Complicated answer for a simple question," Uncle Richard said in a flinty manner.

This time, the man looked directly in my uncle's eyes with courage. "With all due respect sir, I've worked at this firm for a long time and I've sealed a multitude of job offers."

"You're right. But you're forgetting that your prospects have all been insignificant. Except for one, which you were a thread away from losing completely before I salvaged it." At this, the man steered away from my uncle's hard gaze and it was evident he was shameful.

Uncle Richard gripped his chin and rubbed at it thoughtfully. "One of the many things I value about my company is that a scheme is thoroughly perfected. If there's an obstacle on the road, expectation and preparation are key."

"Sir I—"

"You're fired."

I followed my uncle out of the room and back on the elevator where we traveled down to the first floor. Exiting the elevator, my uncle stopped by the secretary telling her to inform him when Mr. John Huffington gets escorted by security out of the building. He also let her know he would be leaving for a lunch break.