2 - The Tiniest King
The man’s name was Clay Brand, a clean cut, working stiff. An accountant at Sterling Accounts. Boring as plain white toast as far as I could tell..Nora said she would leave me a key to her and Clay’s apartment under the mat. So I could check out the place when she went to work. She worked late as a waitress in a club called, the Menagerie.
I was going to check out Sterling Accounts before it got too late.
As I walked up town, I could feel the change in air pressure that heralded the coming rains. It wasn’t that cold yet but I usually run cold anyway so I nestled further into my thick brown trench coat. It had been a gift from my dad, he gave it to me when he finally acknowledged that I was serious about the whole P.I thing. It was him finally letting go of the notion of the woman he wanted me to be. He always wanted to control everything that gesture was him given up a bit of control. But I don’t accepted my choice of profession.
“You should atleasts look the part” Was all the acceptance he could muster. A small victory and one of the few happy memories I have of the man. He is proud and arrogant, A real piece of work, like me. we don’t talk much still but dammit if it isn’t a really nice coat.
I had stopped for a bite to eat on the way so it was later than I had hoped when I finally arrived at the office building where Sterling Accounts was located. But I still had at least an hour or two to scope out the place. The first people were already leaving for home, spilling out of the building in front of me. Sterling Accounts was on the third floor, a restricted floor.
I scarfed down the rest of the pretzel I bought with part of my upfront retainer. As I wiped off my sticky fingers in my coat I walked into the foyer of the building and straight into the ladies room. I took of my coat and stuffed it in my messenger bag I carried over my shoulder. I took out a generic grey cap and clipboard that I carried for situations just like this. I put my unwieldy curly shoulder length brown hair into a tight ponytail and pulled it through as I put on the cap. I was wearing my “profesional” nice IE expensive black jeans and a little too nice dress shirt. I opened a few buttons on the shirt to show the white tank-top underneath. I looked myself over in the mirror. Yeah that will work, you can do this. Alright Becca you’re up, I walked out and straight towards the bank of elevators just past the security desk.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going? You can’t use those!” came the yell from the desk. The man behind the desk was about my age. He lorded over the lobby he had his eyes possessively on his little kingdom. He was a rent-a-cop but not one of those donut munching mall cop. His brown beard well trimmed and well kept. Clearly meant to make him macho along with buzzcut. His uniform clinged to his muscled physique in a quite flattering way actually. He worked out and clearly took his job very seriously. He didn’t look like a vet or someone with formal training. More like someone who like the idea not the effort.
Someone had giving him a plastic badge and small modicum of power and he had promptly proceeded to get drunk on it. This was his building. I thoroughly dislike people like that.
I let out an exasperated sigh, really playing up my annoyance and spun around to face the jerk. “Relax buddy I’m just the delivery girl” I said as I approached the desk.
“deliveries and couriers are in the back, you’re not allowed in the lobby. This is classy place, and well you” Watch it buddy “you young lady you clash with the decor” I’m your age and damn right I clash with corporate class.
“Just doing my job here could you just let me up? I have a delivery for Sterling Accounts.”
I interrupted him before he could say anything else. He wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to assert his power on some silly delivery girl, but I couldn’t just leave I needed access to the upper floor. His silly plastic lanyards gave him complete control over me. I hate feeling powerless. I had the power here he just didn’t know it.
I gave him a wicked smile and I raised my voice slightly.
“If you help, I’ll be out of here in a blink I won’t have time to sully this classy atmosphere.
Or we could make it a whole thing” I gestured around his precious lobby. And gave the lone cleaner a wave.
His face soured. “Please I, we, don’t do deliveries to this place. I have no way of getting in without your help and I can’t go back to me boss unsuccessful, again. I am completely in your hands.” Give them control, make them think it is their idea.
“Where was it you were going again”. Got’ya.
“Sterling Accounts, third floor” I looked at my empty clipboard. “A Clay Brand, his fiancé is the sender”
He harumphed at that. Not a romantic I guess. “He needs to sign for it”
He buckled. He gave up an infinitesimal piece of his diminutive power.
“fine” he said “But you owe me. Sign in here and I’ll make you a guest pass. This once”
Thank you my liage how generous of you. “of course anything. And thanks, I’m Becca by the way.”
I signed with two obnoxiously curly big C’s.
“Great” he said tiredly. “now buzz off and be quick about it I want you out of here as soon as possible” he handed me the keys the office kingdom. A square plastic lanyard.
“Scouts Honor” I said as I took the access card.
as the elevator doors dinged open I looked back at desk and gave him a small salute.
What a small sad man. A tiny king stuck in his little kingdom of revolving doors and potted plants.
