I Trust You

Silly Miser

"We're going where?" Vincent asks, his arms folded over his chest.

"South Africa."

"Because?"

"The orphanage is there." Grace answers, slipping out a blank notebook.

"And we're going to the orphanage why?"

"It's good publicity."

Vincent slowly nods, his bottom lip in-between his teeth as he leans back in his chair, a lock of his hair falling over his face.

"So, let me get this straight." He finally says after a lengthy silence. "You want to go to South Africa so I can get publicity there even though my company ,and almost 80% of it's branches, are here, in the U.S."

"Well, when you say it like that it sounds dumb." Grace says, her eyes narrowed as she pulls out a pen.

"How else am I supposed to say it, Ms.Fontanel? Please enlighten me."

"Ah, do I have to explain everything to you?" Grace groans, rubbing her hand against her face.

"I pay you to do that," Vincent answers, his eyes narrowing. "and you really shouldn't be complaining since you did decide to show up almost thirty-two minutes late."

Grace pushes herself deeper into the black chair.

"There was traffic." Grace weakly mumbles, her eyes just above Vincent's head.

"Sure, I believe you."

"Thanks." Grace says, pushing herself up the chair and reaching out for her computer.

A silence settles over them as Grace powers up her computer, enters the South African Airline website and types in the username and password from her phone onto the computer.

"I'm halfway done with our flight tickets I just need your information." Grace says, sliding her laptop toward him. "While you type I'll explain, okay?"

Vincent stiffly nods as he slides open his desk drawer and places a tan file down a second later.

"Most CEO's don't visit the places they donate to. They might go to the banquets and fancy fundraising parties but they never physical go and spend time with the people they're supposedly helping."

Grace pauses as he slips his ID and passport out the tan file and swiftly flips the small book open.

"You know where to put in the details, right?" Grace asks, leaning over the table.

"Yes, Ms.Fontanel." He says, pulling the computer closer to his body as he shoots Grace a dirty glare.

"I was just checking."

"Can you just continue explaining?"

"Fine." Grace mumbles, sitting back in the chair. "Where was I? Oh, so if you go and meet the people that you're helping it'll seem like you genuinely care and are invested in the bettering of other peoples lives unlike just throwing a couple of thousands into some random account titled 'Feed the Poor.'"

"I understand what you're saying," He says, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard. "But I still fail to see how that will better my company."

"I'm pretty sure I explained this to you just a couple days ago." Grace groans, throwing her head back.

"No, I don't think so." He says, his eyes flickering over his ID. "Correct me if I'm wrong but I believe you were in jail a couple days ago, so how you'd get that information to me from behind bars is quite a remarkable feat."