Gary

Monday, 8:30, first day of the rest of your life. Job interview 3B.

Gary Bellamy had never needed to go past the number three when it came to getting a new job, although it did take the magic of alphanumerics to keep it that way.

The first bit of weirdness Gary Bellamy encountered was the two men who pushed their way into the elevator he’d entered to take him up to the Palantine & Co. offices on the fourteenth floor of the Giesbrecht Building. Right after he’d stepped into the elevator, the two older men, a tall balding white guy with a goatee wearing glasses and a shorter heavier Asian, maybe Chinese or Vietnamese wearing what could only be described as business casual made their way in through the closing doors. They both looked like they were in their forties, the Chinese with gray in his mop of hair and the paunchy white guy with the grey in the goatee. They were talking rapidly to each other, without even looking at each other. The other two in the elevator, a young woman and an older executive in a pin-striped suit shifted to the other side of the car. It sounded like they were continuing a conversation, or at least some kind of bizarre list of seemingly barely unconnected items.

“Bin Laden,” the Chinese guy one said.

“The Lusitania,” the other replied.

“Foxes.”

“Mrs. Marple.”

“Cliffs of Dover.”

“Cliff Richard.

“Pork!”

The white guy let out a breath. The other two passengers shifted a bit. Whatever was going on, it seemed they’d had to put up with it before and desperately wanted it to en..

The woman got off on the seventh floor. On the thirteenth floor, the two men bumped into him as they all exited.

“Sorry,” Gary offered.

“All’s forgiven,” the white guy replied. The Asian slipped around, and was in front of them before Gary had a chance to orient himself, glancing around, then spotting the door to Palantine and Co. By the time he reached the frosted glass double doors, the Asian was pulling one open, smirking at his co-worker, Gary assumed.

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“Next time,” Mr. Goatee offered.

“It’s always next time Frank,” the Chinese guy stated with a smile. “You should stop making bets. She's going to find out someday.”

Then, the Asian noticed Gary stepping up. The man could be his future co-worker too, so Gary offered a smile. No sense in putting people off from the get go.

“Have an appointment?” the man asked.

Gary glanced at him, then the man he’d called Frank. Nodded.

“This is Palantine and Co., right,” Gary asked.

“That’s what the sign on the door says,” Frank said, eyeing him from speculatively. “You’re meeting Flores, right?”

“In twenty minutes,” he agreed.

Frank smiled.

“Good luck, man,” he said, extended a hand for Gary to shake. Gary took it. The man’s grip was a little soft, a little weak. “The interview is easier than it looks. Just don’t let them see the fear in your eyes.”

The man chortled, then nodded at his co-worker.

“That’s Benny Wong,” he said. “I’m Frank Chisholm. Welcome to the mission.”

Gary heard Benny sigh, glanced over at him.

The mission?

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Benny offered as he started to open the frosted glass door. “For the rest of us, it’s just a job. You’ll do fine.”

Gary followed Frank into the reception area with Benny following suit. That was the second bit of weirdness. They were acting casual, familiar, like he already worked here. He guessed that was a good sign. The last couple places had seemed like a waste of time, really.

“What’s your name?” Frank asked.

“Gary,” Gary replied. “Gary Bellamy.”

He could swear the man looked surprised for a moment, before covering it with a smirk.

“Good to meet you,” the man said, then pointed at the reception desk. “Just come over here and speak to Angela. She’ll get you all set up for your interview. Oh, you might want to straighten your tie and brush that cat hair off your left shoulder.”

Shit. he winced and dutifully brushed the orange and white hairs that always seemed to find their way to where they weren't wanted. Cats! How long had that patch been sitting on his jacket shoulder? No wonder he was on interview 3B.

He followed Frank to the reception desk. the first thing Gary noticed was the big portrait on the wall. At first guess, he would have said it was of John Hamm, but since the caption on the frame was Ephram Palantine, CEO, he guessed it wasn't. As they got closer his attention was caught more by the the curvily attractive woman in her mid-thirties with wavy read hair hanging down past her shoulders behind the counter. She’d been concentrating on her computer screen, but looked up and smiled when Frank knocked on high counter. Her face was full of freckles. Pretty, though. She definitely made them work.

Frank then leaned against the reception desk.

“Old man be in today?” he was asking her.

Angela glanced over to him, shook her head.

“Sent a message saying he’d be gone for the week,” she offered eyes half rolled. “Apparently a new client has him all tied up.”