The Willingness to Burn (2 page)

She looked up to the right and paused for a moment. A smile converged on her face as she stood up and moved over a stool and Jace shot her a puzzled look.

“What? You can’t meet me halfway?” she asked with a smile.

“Sure, but be gentle; it’s my first time.”

Jace slid his drink down and pushed Evan’s untouched drink in front of her.

“First time?”

Jace smirked. “Here, you have to help me with this,” Jace said, motioning to the drink. “I’m Jace.”

“Stephanie.”

“Nice to meet you, Stephanie.”

“It’s so nice to meet the guy who just had a relationship with me without even knowing my name.”

“To be fair, I said only nice things. And in the divorce, you can keep the house, but I want the dog.”

“My dog!”

“He was
my
dog. You didn’t even want him.”

“Yeah, but he’s so
cute
.”

“I know, that’s why I picked him out. Besides, your place is too small for him.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you get a Rottweiler.”

“Now we know.”

Jace smiled, and she returned it with one of her own. He leaned in as though he was going to tell her a secret, noting that, she leaned in as well.

“See Steph, I knew you were eavesdropping.”

“I couldn’t help myself.” She blushed and shook her head. “So you think you’re right about me?”

“I don’t know … Are you like all the other girls?”

“No, I’m special.”

“Oh, really?” She nodded, making Jace smile once again. “Tell me more.”

Chapter 2

The next morning, Jace awoke moments before his alarm clock. He shut off the clock the very second the nine turned to a zero and it began to beep. He took a deep breath and reached across the bed for his phone. He slid the bar and unlocked a new message from Stephanie. The text read, “Sweet dreams!” with an accompanying selfie of her topless covering her nipples with her arm. Jace grinned then hopped out of bed.

After showering, he laid out a light-gray suit with baby-blue pinstripes, a white shirt, and a baby-blue, patterned tie. He gave himself a spray of light cologne and then continued to get dressed. After a short subway ride, he was in the city. The tall buildings blocked out the sun’s bright glare, and on bright mornings like this, that was an amenity that could only be offered by the economic growth of the city. He walked among the inhabitants.

What a great place to be,
he thought to himself. A place where stockbrokers, construction workers, and homeless people all walked the same streets. All saw the same things. That was what really created the energy of the city. That constant hum that never left, no matter what time it was. That’s why New York is the city that never sleeps. He looked down at his watch.; the hand was four places from the Rolex symbol that decorated the summit of the timepiece.

He had twenty minutes. More than enough time to make it to the office, and go over his pitch one more time. In fact, Jace had such a great start to his morning, and was so confident in his pitch, that he was certain he could even gamble a minute or two on a quick cup of coffee. After all, that could only help with his presentation; he would be more alert and more enthusiastic.

Jace rounded the corner to his favorite Dunkin Donuts and walked briskly. As he came down the street, he took note of an exceptionally good-looking blonde girl. She was dressed in a business attire complete with sunglasses. She was carrying a tray of iced coffees.
Iced coffee would be good for this morning,
Jace thought to himself. The two continued to walk toward one another when a homeless man came out from an alley.

“Excuse me, Miss!” the homeless man yelled in what was a very aggressive attempt at panhandling. The girl was startled and leaped forward breaking into a light run. But her heels had something else to say about it; she caught the sidewalk the wrong way and tripped. Her glasses raised slightly on her head as the tray of ice coffees flew from her grasp. The whole event appeared to happen in slow motion as Jace powerwalked toward their trajectory. He watched the caps pop off and the black liquid roll in the cups as she leaped. Then the dark liquid came flying out of the container completely with the force of a terrified girl running from an unknown terror. The coffee sat in the air for a moment, frozen, right before crashing into Jace’s pristine light gray and blue pinstriped jacket, his baby-blue tie, and of course his perfectly-white shirt.

Jace took a deep breath, shocked by the onslaught of icy cold liquid and then took another. Perhaps
drinking
coffee wasn’t the only way to get it’s alerting effects. He froze. Jace glanced down and dropped his briefcase. Not today. Of all days
,
not today.
He tried to brush the liquid off of himself, but it was to no avail.

“Oh my god,” he said to himself, looking down. His eyes blinked slowly in utter disbelief.

The girl looked up at him. “Oh my god!” she said, her mouthing curling up a bit. She quickly pulled her hand to her face.

“I’m so sorry.” She began to giggle.

“You’re sorry?”

“I’m
so
sorry,” she said, laughing.

“Are you sure you’re sorry, because your laughing would suggest otherwise.” Jace threw his hands down and black liquid speckled the gray sidewalk.

“No, I am.” She laughed. “It’s just so ironic.”

His eyes glaring daggers at her, Jace fought to keep calm.

“I … I fail to see anything but tragedy here.”

“I’m sorry, I will totally pay for it.”

Jace looked down at his outfit ; he let out an aggressive sigh then grunted loudly, his hands balling up into fists.

“Tell me the ironic part, because I really need it right now.”

She looked around. She seemed as though she was looking for someone just in case he became violent. Jace noted this and softened his grip and posture.

“I noticed you as I was walking, and I thought, ‘Wow that guy looks really good. He’s really well put together.’ Then I started thinking about what you might do, and what your day would be like, and then that guy jumped out and really scared me. I am seriously so sorry.”

“I don’t see how that’s ironic.”

“It’s ironic because I was noticing how well put together you are, and now you’re covered in coffee.” She started to laugh. “Again, I am so sorry.”

“Oh my god!” Jace screamed then began to walk past her.

“Hey, I said I’d pay for it!”

Jace turned around to face her and enunciated every word to express severity, as he said, “If you only
fucking
knew
how important today was for me!”

She finally stopped laughing. “Hey, I’m really sorry, seriously.”

Jace threw his hands down in disgust and sighed to himself. That sigh was different—it was one of acceptance.

“You know, any other day, I’d be okay with it.” Jace paused and frowned, clenching his teeth. “I gotta go.”

Jace started powerwalking away from her.

“Hey, wait!”

“Can’t, I got ten minutes to find another shirt!”

“Take my card,” the girl called out.

Jace didn’t respond. His powerwalking turned into a light jog as he came upon his building. He made a B-line for the elevator and took it straight to his floor.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” Dexter asked as Jace closed the door and leaned back against it as though it would protect him.

“Not now. Do you have another shirt and tie?”

“Nah, sorry, man.”

“I thought you always keep a spare?” Jace pleaded.

“I’m wearing it, man.”

“
Fuck
. Can I borrow yours?”

“Get the fuck outta here. You’re not the only one whose got meetings today.”

“Fuck!” Jace searched around his desk. Maybe there was something there he could use.
But what? Nothing will help this. Coffee on white? Nothing short of gasoline and a match will take care of this. Fuck!

Jace peeked his head out of the office. Then he turned back to Dexter, clutching the door again. “Do me a favor, see if you can find anyone with a spare shirt and tie.”

“All right, man, I’ll try,” Dexter said reluctantly and stood up shaking his head. “What size are you?”

“I don’t give a
fuck
,” Jace said with a strong tone.

“All right, all right, Take it easy.”

Dexter stepped out of the two-man office that they shared. Junior Account men in their firm shared offices until they were full-fledged. And that day was Jace’s opportunity to become full-fledged. To have his own office. And company bonuses.

Jace stayed in the office, hiding. From who?
Everyone
. He sat behind his desk and stared down, hoping, praying.

Mark, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair opened the door. Mark was in his mid-thirties but could have passed for much older. His tailored, navy-blue suit looked flawless, a vast contrast to Jace’s. He looked down at Jace.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“I know.”

“You know? You know the clients are fucking here too?”

“I’ll just …”

“You’ll just stay here. I’ll find someone else.”

“
No
. Wait.”

“Look at yourself,” Mark said slowly. “We are asking these people to give us millions of dollars. “

“I know.”

“And when you’re doing that, you want to give it to a professional. A guy you can trust. Not a guy who looks like he needs a fucking bib! You’re off.”

“Mark, I can still do this.”

“No fucking way. Where’s Dexter?”

Jace stood up from behind his desk. “Mark, I can do this.”

Mark looked at Jace. He looked him over once more and sighed. “You really think so?”

“I know it.”

“You better,” Mark paused.“ Because, Jace … You lose this account, and you lose your job.”

“What?”

“Look, we lose an account because they don’t like us, that’s one thing, we lose it because
you
look unprofessional and still go in, heads are gonna roll, my man.”

“C’mon, man.”

“Don’t ‘c’mon man’ me. You know how this works. This is an industry based on performance. No one gives a shit about your excuse.” Mark grabbed the door handle then stopped before walking out. “Look, you want to stay on this. You are gambling. You want to sit back and wait for the next one, that’s fine. It’s understandable. You leaving me with an unprepared point man on account of some shit going down, I can forgive.” Mark took a step forward leaving the door open and pointed at Jace. “You fucking me on this client because you insist on going in looking like an asshole and you are done.”

Jace paused.

“Now’s not the time for this. You got five minutes. Either prep Dexter and send him in and then wait for the next one, or risk it all on whatever is behind door number two.” Mark looked at Jace and shook his head then stepped out and closed the door.

Jace sat down on his desk. “Fuck!” He wrestled together his paperwork, his notes, and his pitch points. The door opened and Dexter came back in.

“Any luck?”

“Nah, man, I’m sorry.”

“Fuck.” Jace took a deep breath and gritted his teeth.

“Hey man, anything else I can do?”

Jace looked up at Dexter. He stood up from the desk and started for the door.

“Yeah, pray.”

Jace stood in the conference room.
God, I hope they have a sense of humor,
he thought to himself. He readied his Power Point presentation and took a deep breath. Jace looked at his watch. Hopefully he could sell the Rolex if it all went tits up. The second hand ticked loudly and the door swung open. First in was Mark. When Jace saw him, he turned around, like a kid who had peed his pants in school and didn’t want the other kids to know. He was finishing a joke and the other four people laughed.

“So this must be the genius that Mark was telling us about,” the voice of an older man said. Jace turned around.

“Why I certainly hope so,” Jace said with a smile on his face and his heart pounding in his throat. He could feel his cheeks flush with blood. The room was all of a sudden very warm. His eyes fell upon Mark, three men dressed to the nines in custom suits, and a woman wearing an gray skirt suit, a white blouse and sunglasses on her head. Jace’s eyes locked on her and he froze.

“Wow. That’s a great shade of coffee,” she said.

“Yeah,” Jace stammered, his smile returning to his face. “I apologize for my appearance. I was involved in an accident on my way in the office today.”

“Oh, you should be more careful,” the woman said.

Jace’s eyes stayed fixed as his head moved slowly to face the blonde.

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Jace took a deep breath to regain his composure. “But gentlemen, and lady, what I lack in unstained clothing, I more than make up for in money management skills. So, please, have a seat, have some coffee.—don’t worry, none for me, I’ve had enough—and I’ll show you how Shooter & McManus can provide you with not only financial security but also growth through these uncertain times.”

After a spirited and comprehensive presentation, Jace took out the paperwork. That was where it counted, what it all came down to. It was all about the rollover forms. A signature on the dotted line would transfer the money from their retirement account to Shooter & McManus. But a blank dotted line would transfer Jace from a comfortable Hoboken apartment to the poor house.

“Now, Brent, if you’ll just okay right there, we can get started on building your future.”

Jace placed a strong-looking stainless steel ballpoint pen down next to the signature line on the paperwork. Brent looked down at the papers then back up at Jace. Jace smiled and the two men continued to stare at one another. Not a word was spoken. Not a gesture made. Mark held his breath. Seconds ticked and fell off Jace’s watch—moments of silence, moments of remarkable friction.

Brent smirked. He turned and looked at his other two partners.

“We are going to step out for a minute,” Brent finally said.

“Oh?” Jace asked, perplexed.

“Yeah Jace, I missed breakfast, so were gonna go grab an egg sandwich and talk this over. We’ll be back in about a half hour.”

“Brent, we can …” Jace began.

“Brent, why don’t we take you guys out to breakfast? Maybe grab an Irish coffee or two,” Mark interrupted.