L'affaire Bob

21. "1, 2, 3... Action!"

-"So, Paul, how's that case going?" asked my boss as soon as he entered the office.

-"Good morning to you too, Mr. Gautier," I replied, rolling my eyes mentally and stifling a yawn.

Yes, today was Friday. Yes, it was the last day of work before the weekend. And yes, I should've been very much awake and jumping from excitement, but sadly, that wasn't the case. My eyelids were threatening to shut down at any moment, and I was trying with all my might to keep them open.

Even the coffee Marc gave me didn't help much.

But, of course, the boss didn't need to know that. Up till now, I was doing a pretty good job at keeping myself from snoring right under his nose.

However, my mind was quite persistent and seemed to insist on me getting fired or something, because it failed to send me a message telling me that I should reply to Mr. Gautier's question.

As a response to my silence, his eyebrows shot up.

Only now did my brain cells decide to work, and so I gathered my courage, opened my mouth, and tried to reply.

-"Oh, I'm nearly done!" I lied.

-"That's perfect! Would you mind showing me the notes and reports you've written until now?"

-"Yes."

-"Okay then, go ahead. Show them to me."

-"No, I meant yes I would mind showing them to you."

-"Excuse me? I'm your boss, Paul. I act like a polite person, but that's just for the etiquette. You have to do as I say, even if I added a courteous "If you want" at the end of my order."

I tried to think of something to say. And if I wanted to get out with this, I had to find something fast.

Tremendously fast.

And believe me, that was very hard, with a fuzzy and half-asleep mind that was still processing the caffeine in its system on a Friday morning.

So what did I do?

Easy.

I brought up my acting skills on the dance floor.

Putting a glum and wretched expression on my face, I got up from my chair and reached up to my boss, my head lowered.

After a few seconds, I pressed my lips tightly and shook my head. Then, lifting it back up, I looked him in the eyes and said:

-"Look, boss. I, personally, would have told you everything about the case, but that poor lady made me promise not to disclose a word of what she said before bringing the culprit down," I paused, for more effects. I also added a hesitant lip bite, just to make him feel that pity and compassion I wanted him to endure.

-"I..." I continued. "She was so heartbroken, boss. Her face-- if only you could see her face, man. It was painful to watch."

Mr. Gautier nodded in understanding. Taking a quick look at him, I noticed how his eyebrows, too, were furrowed in worry and concern for this lady, the only difference being that his expression was genuine, while mine wasn't.

Goodness gracious! I really should've gone for that acting career my friends advised me to take. I had quite a talent for it.

Retreating to my desk, I took a random pile of folders and held them in my arms, close to my chest.

-"I've written every single word she told me, but I can't show them to you yet. I'm sorry, Mr. Gautier."

-"That's fine, Paul. It's not the first time it happens. We've had clients like that before."

"You don't say? How did I come up with that lie, then?" my subconscious quipped, contempt lacing its voice.

Thankfully, my sleepyheaded self didn't let that remark slip out of my mouth.

-"I wish you luck, then, my friend, "he continued. "I expect you to hand me that case by Monday morning, is that good?"

-"Sure! I just have a few more interviews left, and then I'm done."

-"Wonderful! I'll be waiting for you, Monday morning."

-"How generous of you, boss. Thank you so much for your time and your comprehension," I sweetly answered, with a smile plastered on my face.

I opened the door for him and let him pass with a bow.

As soon as he left, I closed the door and leaned on it, muttering a few curses under my breath.

I returned to my chair, sat back, and exhaled deeply, wiping the nonexistent sweat off of my face.

Making a mental note to work on that goddamn case tonight, I stormed outside my office and entered Marc's.

-"Hey, Marc, can I ask you something?"

-"Oh, hi, Paul. Yeah, sure. What is it?"

-"There's this kid I've been hanging out with for a week or so now, and he turned 21 yesterday. I was wondering if you would want to get out, or something, to celebrate his birthday?"

-"A surprise party, huh?"

-"If you want, yes."

-"Count me in, then."

-"Perfect!"

A few seconds of silence passed, then Marc asked:

-"So, where do you want to go tonight?"

-"Well, that's what I wanted to ask you," I grinned at him.

-"Oh, boy," he sighed.

-"What? What's wrong?"

-"Paul?"

-"Yeah?"

-"Just promise me you'll never plan a surprise party on your own ever again."

-"Hey! How dare you insult my event-planning skills like that?"

Marc halted and grimaced.

-"You see this face?" he questioned me, pointing at his features.

-"That distorted and "oh-I-probably-look-like-a-constipated-idiot" face? Yeah, yeah, I see it."

-"Shut up," he demanded, glaring at me.

I whistled.

-"Marc?"

-"Yes?"

-"Just promise me you'll never try to scare someone off with your glare ever again. It's not working, man. I'm sorry. You need to work on your imposing skills more, you know? One of these days, the criminals will start laughing and joking around with you instead of being intimidated. I can teach you how to..."

-"You said he just turned 21, right?" Marc cut me off, not wanting to hear more of my rambling.

-"Huh?"

-"That kid. The one you're organizing the birthday for."

-"Oh, yes! He is, he is."

-"Let's do something wild, then. We have to welcome this kid to the adult's life."

-"Technically, he became an adult at 18, so..."

-"Oh, you exactly know what I meant!"

I smirked.

-"God, yes, I do. And, knowing you, I'm quite sure that we wouldn't get back home early tonight."

A devious grin lit up his face.

-"You have no idea how right you are, mate."