Airtight

Chapter 2: Rejected

Pulling up to my building, I greeted the doorman David. The  old man smiled as he always did when he let me in. Tipping him a twenty he gave me a quick nod as I went towards the elevators. Going up to my loft, I let myself into the house shutting the door behind me.

I took in a huge breath, I was happy my work day was now over. I took pride in my home the same way my mother always told me to. If you aren’t going to respect your own things why should anyone else?

It used to annoy me when she said that until I had something in my grasp worth respecting. Everything in my house was white or glass with splashes of color in key areas. Modern art hung on the walls, flat screen in front of the white leather sectional. Three bedrooms, the master bedroom of course, guest room, and my library; which contained mostly law books.

    

I had wanted to be a lawyer once in my life. I would have made a magnificent one. I studied law and still do in some cases. I was a splendid liar I was told. However, when I was caught giving an alibi to a drug dealer on campus I was told to pack my shit, and leave.

It was the saddest day of my father’s life. At least if you let him tell the story it was. That was when I was immature, too cocky, too fast, too willing to provide my services to anyone with change in their pocket. I have come a long way since being that kid.

   

Walking in my kitchen, I grabbed a glass and poured myself some scotch as I checked for any missed messages. Four out of the five new messages I had was my mother complaining about how I never come to see them anymore. I didn’t want to remind her that whenever I did come see them she cried about what I do, as father bitched about me getting a real job. That was during the moments they acknowledge I had a job at all.

My parents liked to pretend they don’t know where my money was coming from. So long as I sent them a share from time to time. Of course, they remember my special skills when it’s time to bail my idiot older brother out of whatever mess he got himself into. The last message on my machine was a friend asking me to go out for drinks tomorrow.

   

  I moved through my house again going over to the central wall that had a huge painting hanging on it. Moving the painting revealed a wall safe behind it. I never kept more than five hundred thousand in my home at any given time.

It was a rule I made for myself when I made my first hundred thousand. I made a note that I would later burn about how much Lex owed me. Putting the stacks that Lex had given me into the safe, I knew that I would need to make it to the bank soon.

      

Most people who do illegal things shy away from banks.The key is to always bring in large stacks of money. If I opened my account with a hundred thousand at hand then why would it be questioned when I made monthly deposits of that amount or more?

Banks only want your money and they only ask questions when you’re suspicious. Of course, the golden rule about dealing with banks is to never have all your eggs in one basket. Spread the love as I like to say.

 

I moved through my home soundlessly, watching TV, checking accounts, researching clients or people who could become clients. The sun dipped in the sky as I walked over to my favorite part of my home. A wall window stood in the back of my dining room. It looked out towards the city around me, and I loved it.

I loved this city, and the view of it from up high at night. Tall buildings could be spotted with lights dotting the horizon. The street below had fast cars rushing from point A to B. There was a bridge in the distance, and I could see the dark waters of the river below. I took a drink from my glass as I lost myself in the view.