New York Office Story A novel

Chapter One-Shut Down-(Part one)

My office in Lower Manhattan was bombarded by IRS Agents.

The rest of the story begins after they interrogated me.

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"What do you want?".

"You're a financier. We need you to recover our debt ceiling".

"Well, tell the Republicans not to mess us up".

"Well, we did...And we need you to repair it". The woman IRS Agent was dressed in a light, blue colored business suit, dark, blue colored skirt, and was wearing brown colored pantyhose. Her long, slender legs were sexy, but not too revealing.

She walked to my mahogany desk, like a tiger on the prowl. Yet, to me, she wanted to make sure I was nervous.

"Are you nervous, Robert?".

"How do you know my name?".

"Your file is on our records".

"And I know my Lawyer's number...And she'll kick you and your cronies out of here faster than you can scream, 'My rights are gone'".

"We're at an impasse...Let me tell you. You are going to Washington, DC, and tell everyone America is failing. We shall take the country over".

I stared at her black colored high-heeled shoes.

Expensive.

"No, I am a New Yorker".

"Fine...But we'll get our people to come by and discuss this delicate matter. I do have one other matter".

"And that is?...".

"The Confidential Accounts".

"Oh".

"Read it, and sign it. And we'll continue tomorrow".

"Fine".

I read the FINE PRINT.

It was legit.

I signed with my gold colored pen.

And then I sent it to her.

"Good, we can trust each other. Good night!".

And I watched her open the Office door...as well as her cronies...and wondered whether it was better not to know about America's Debt Ceiling.

***

I wore a light, brown colored shirt, brown colored tie, brown colored trousers, a brown colored belt, brown colored socks, and brown colored shoes.

I was also wearing a silver colored watch on my right hand.

The lamp illumed my desk; the laptop computer was in the middle; and the window was at the far-side of my Office.

Then my I-phone rang.

The caller ID name was: EMILY.

I picked it up.

"Hi, honey. How was school?".

"Busy, is Mommy there?".

"No".

"She isn't at home".

"She isn't. Where...Did some people come to school?".

"Yes, some suited people. They wanted to speak to her...about you".

I stiffened up.

"Look, where are you?".

And then the I-phone went dead.