Never mind. I could do it. The week had been very productive and that was the main thing. The numerous skill upgrades and dozens of completed tasks had garnered me over 6,000 XP, filling my progress bar to over the halfway mark. I had just over 5,000 XP left to make social status level 15. That was another week of intensive leveling.
“Phil, I’ve bought the glue, what do you want me to do now?” Alik asked, distracting me from my thoughts.
“Let’s sit and have some tea. There’re some cookies over there. Vicky sent them.”
As he began to scurry about in our impromptu kitchenette in the corner, I practiced searching for vacancies, with Kesha as a guinea pig. The program had come up with several search results, offering the vacancy of a commercial director in quite a few different places. He was indeed a good no-nonsense salesman, even though his Vending skill wasn’t particularly high.
I went on practicing, this time using myself as a test subject.
A search for any available vacancies for Phil Panfilov came up with a plethora of markers on the map. A sales consultant in a household appliance store, a copywriter in an advertising agency, a sales rep in a number of small and medium-sized businesses...
And what was that now? One of the markers pointed at the Chekhov Business Center!
I zoomed in, focusing on it. A prompt floated into view: Window and Door Emporium.
I wonder what that would pay? I set a search filter at 50,000 rubles[16] and the marker disappeared. How about 40,000[17]? No way. I changed it to 30,000[18] and the marker reappeared.
Aha. It meant that the official wage was under 30,000 plus most likely a commission from every sale.
Okay. I decided to carry the experiment through to its logical conclusion.
“Alik, mind being the boss here for a minute? I need to pop out to meet some of our neighbors.”
The ex-street thug didn’t even hear me as he wolfed down the cookies and sipped his tea, completely absorbed in some YouTube video.
Never mind. Let the man get some downtime. In a few more hours, he’d have more work than he could handle. The moment our leaflets were ready, our first promotional campaign would commence. It was a joke, really: we couldn’t even afford placing a classified ad in newspapers.
I walked down the corridor until I came to the door I’d been looking for. The shop sign on it announced:
Window and Door Emporium
I knocked and entered.
Muted voices seemed to come from somewhere. I crossed the empty room and discovered another cubicle hidden behind a vinyl partition. An imposing-looking man was sprawled languidly at his desk, sporting a five o’clock shadow and an unmistakably Armenian aquiline nose. In his leather jacket, he was overdressed for today’s weather.
Vazgen Karapetyan
Age: 27
A girl about twenty-five years old stood in front of him, her summer dress doing nothing to conceal her shapely legs. Her long fiery-red hair hung to the middle of her back.
Well, if it wasn’t Lola[19]!
“You know very well, Veronica,” the man said with just a hint of an Armenian accent, “there’s no money coming in. I’m afraid I can’t help you, da?[20]”
“What do you mean, there's no money? What do you want to say? How many times did you invite me to a restaurant? You've got money for that, don’t you?” the girl’s voice, indignant at first, faded away so that she ended her diatribe in a whisper.
“But that’s my brother’s restaurant, da? Do you think Kikos would have charged me?”
“Get away with you! You and your Da!”
She swung round to leave. I coughed, attracting their attention.
The girl nearly jumped. “Jesus Christ! Who the hell are you?”
“Sorry, I’m here about the job. I’m a sales rep.”
The girl rolled her eyes and concluded quite unexpectedly, “You see? It’s not over yet! So much for your Da!”
She left, leaving us with our respective jaws dropped. On her way out she collided with the partition, hurting her shoulder, cussed like a trooper and slammed the door behind her.
“How can I help you?” Vazgen finally asked.
“My name’s Phil. Do you need a sales rep?”
He gave me an appraising look, tut-tutted, then cracked his neck like a boxer and pointed contemptuously to a chair. “Sit down, da?”
I couldn’t tell whether he was agreeing or whether it was just a parasitic utterance. Although apparently younger than me, he seemed too arrogant for his age. Then again, who was I? Just a job seeker or maybe a future employee. I definitely didn’t deserve the same treatment as a potential client.
I took a seat and waited. I wasn’t in a hurry to speak.
“Briefly, I don’t need a sales rep, da? But if I ever need one,” he stopped picking his teeth, “if — and I say if! — I need one, then the pay will be twenty grand. Under the table, of course. Plus five percent of whatever you sell. How did you find out about us?”
“I didn’t. I just followed my nose,” I said. My future clients might have to answer the same question quite often. But would their future employers be satisfied with such a response? “So do you really need a rep or not?”
“I don’t know yet. Depends on how you get on,” he explained to me as if talking to an imbecile. “In short, I can give you a trial period.”
“And if a job applicant turns out well, what conditions can you offer?”
He gave it some thought. “Thirty grand a month, da? And I might raise your cut to six percent. Do you know anything about PVC windows?”
“It’s not me that’s applying.”
He jumped to his feet and towered over me, about to erupt into a rage. “You scumbag! Did Naeel[21] send you? He told you to spy on me, didn’t he?” he rattled off without giving me time to get a word in edgeways. His face was now so close I could smell fresh onions on his breath. “Tell that son of a lame donkey and a fat-assed viper that I can manage on my own just fine, thank you very much! I’m not selling the Emporium to him!”
Apart from the fact that my known bestiary had just received two new mobs, I’d also earned myself a new sworn enemy. My Reputation with him had plummeted all the way down to Animosity. Still, I hoped that once he knew the truth, he might change his tune, restoring the status quo. The last thing I needed at the moment was a hostile neighbor right on my doorstep, not to even mention the loss of XP points.
“Vazgen, you got it all wrong!” I said, leaning back in my chair and raising my hands in front of me in a reconciliatory gesture. “I’m your new neighbor here in the business center. We only opened today.”
“I didn’t tell you my name! I’d bet anything...”
“I heard your name from that red-haired girl who’s just left. Come with me, I’ll show you our office if you don’t believe me. We’re here on the same floor.”
Vazgen raised his head suspiciously.
“Basically, we have an employment agency,” I said. “I just popped by to find out if you had any vacancies for our clients.”
“I have no vacancies!” he chopped the air with his hand. “Now piss off!”
Much to my disappointment, my Reputation with him remained in the red. “I wouldn’t adopt that tone with strangers if I were you,” I said, seething.
He pointed a dismissive hand at the door. “Get lost. I’ve heard you out.”
“Okay. And who’s Naeel?”
“F*** off!” he thundered.
I decided not to provoke him any further. As I left, I heard his threatening voice, “You’d better watch out! I’m gonna check out who you are!”
Good. Let’s consider my little experiment a success, even though it had left an unpleasant taste in my mouth.
As I walked past the door leading to the stairs, I saw the red-haired girl again. The center manager Gorelik was standing next to her wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief as he berated her.
“Good afternoon, Sir,” I said to draw his attention aw
ay from her as I peered at her profile, studying it.
I seemed to like her for some reason. She appeared quite candid.
Veronica Pavlova
Age: 25
Current status: entrepreneur
Social status level: 7
Class Communicator. Level: 5
Unmarried
Reputation: Indifference 0/30
Interest: 2%
Fear: 68%
Mood: 12%
“Well, hi there, Phil!” he replied, agitated. “Take a look here! This is what a persistent non-payer looks like! You can’t imagine how many chances and discounts I’ve given her, for all the good it did me! She’s already three months in rears!” he very nearly spat in disgust but stopped himself at the last moment.
“I’m not in rears! There’s no such word!” the girl flapped. “I was just late, that’s all!”
“Oh, so you’re a smartass now?” the manager retorted. “I’ve heard enough of your nonsense! No more excuses for you, Veronica! It’s not my fault that your father’s handicapped, is it? Don’t even ask! I’m gonna seal your office!”
From what I could see, Veronica had no intention of asking him about anything. At the mention of her father, her lips began to quiver. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Mr. Gorelik, may I have a word with you?” I said.
“What now?” he barked, still consumed by his role as a vicious building manager. Then he paused and cleared his throat in embarrassment.
“Could you give Veronica until the end of the week? On my personal responsibility. If she doesn’t cough up, you can cancel my first free months.”
“What’s that? What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, puzzled. “Why are you doing this?”
“I have my reasons. Agreed?”
“Very well, then. But it’s your responsibility!”
“Deal.”
“Veronica, you have till the end of the week!” he shook a menacing finger at her. Then he left, all the while arguing to someone invisible to us both.
I watched him disappear round the corner, then turned to the girl. “I’m very sorry I scared you at Vazgen’s. I didn’t mean it, I swear!”
“Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t swear!” she lost her patience, amazed at my cluelessness. “Especially about something so petty.”
“Very well. In that case, I’m just sorry.”
“Never mind.”
“Would you like a tea? With cookies?”
“Tea, why not? But I don’t eat cookies. I have to watch my weight,” she gushed. “Oh! I don’t know who you are and what you want from me but let me tell you straight off that I’m not gonna date you! No dinners, no movies or whatever else you want to invite me to.”
“I wasn’t going to. I have a girlfriend already. Let’s go, then.”
Alik was sitting at my desk. On seeing me, he hurried to vacate my place, then froze like a pillar of salt in the middle of the room at the sight of the beautiful girl.
“Alik, I’d like you to meet Veronica who’s on the same floor as us,” I said as I poured out the tea. “Veronica, this is Alik, my partner.”
“Nice to meet you, Alik,” the girl said.
“You too... I’m fine, thanks,” he floundered, completely dumbstruck at the sight of such ethereal beauty. “I’m Alik... er, Romuald. Romuald Zhukov. We have a company here...”
“Nice to meet you, Romuald,” she repeated, suppressing a giggle.
He remained stock still the whole time I was talking to her, staring at the fiery-haired, green-eyed girl. As I’d found out, she lived with her father who’d suffered a stroke about half a year ago. His left side was completely paralyzed, so now he required a round-the-clock nurse, medications, occupational therapy and a special diet, all of which came to a considerable bill. No wonder Veronica was three months late with her office rent.
“You sure you need an office at all?” I asked. “You have an event agency. Surely you don’t give parties in your office?”
“I have to have one. Clients need to see that I’m not just some fly-by-night. No office, no advance payments. Also, if I don’t have it, I might have to meet potential clients in cafes which is an extra expense. So yes, I do need an office,” she said resolutely. “It’s just that we’re out of season now. All my clients are on vacation. No one gets married or throws office parties.”
“Tell me more about it,” I said. “What you do, what kinds of services you offer, how many entertainers and animators you have, what your strong points are and what conditions you-”
“Our agency does all sorts of parties and events. It’s called Emerald City.”
Still not understanding why I might need to know, she went on to tell me about her job in every detail, becoming more and more passionate as she spoke. Alik hung on her every word, open-mouthed. He’d had no idea someone might want to hire special people just to hold a wedding.
I was listening to her too, all the while searching through my interface. Even though I’d entered the most stringent search parameters, I’d immediately found two offers which met all the relevant requirements. I decided to try both.
With my laptop on my knees, I Googled the first company. Great. They had a site and all the contacts. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. Veronica tactfully stopped talking. I gestured to her that it would only be a moment.
“MID Consulting, how can I help you?” a female voice chirped in the receiver.
“Hi. This is Phil Panfilov. I’m calling you about the event you’re organizing,” I said, hazarding a guess, because I only had my program’s data to go by, according to which they were in need of Veronica’s services.
“Could you please wait a moment? Aha... I see. Is this about Mr. Romanov’s birthday party?”
I clicked on the About Us button on their company site. There he was! Alexander Romanov, their CEO.
“Exactly,” I said. “Who could I speak to about the event?”
“You know, Olga isn’t here at present and she’s the one responsible for it. She’ll be back in about an hour. I could give you her cell number or you could come to us if you wish. Do you know where we are?”
“Yes, if you could give me the number and the address, please, I’ll jot it down... Thanks!”
“You’re always very welcome! Have a nice day!”
I hung up and looked at the guys. Their faces seemed to ask, “What the hell was that?”
“Now, Veronica,” I said. “There’s this company who’s got a CEO’s birthday party coming up. Here’s the number of Olga, the girl who’s organizing it. And here’s their address. Call her now.”
“What do you mean, now?”
“You heard it. Here’s the telephone. Call them now before it goes to another agency.”
I had a funny feeling that this Olga just might be at some other meeting discussing the event with someone else. So we shouldn’t waste time.
“Are you serious?”
“Listen, lady, you should really do what my boss says,” Alik blurted out, finally relieved of his Numbness and Tongue-Tie debuff. “He’s pretty savvy!”
“Oh well. If he’s ‘savvy’, why not?” Veronica dialed the number, stood up and faced the wall, blanking herself off.
Apparently, someone had answered the call as the girl immersed in conversation. Her hair blazed in the sunlight, changing hue from ripe orange to crimson sunset.
“Yes, absolutely,” she finally said. “I’ll be there. I’m coming now,” she put the phone down, turned to us and let out a squeal of excitement. “Phil, you’re awesome! This is a huge order! A hundred percent advance! I’m gonna go and discuss all the details now!”
Your Reputation with Veronica Pavlova has improved!
Current Reputation: Amicality 5/60
Unable to contain her emotions, she threw herself at me. Barely holding onto my laptop, I very nearly fell off my chair with her on top.
Someone entere
d the office but I could only see the person’s feet, the rest was concealed by her cascading hair as she gave me a peck on the cheek.
“Veronica?” I heard Vazgen’s voice. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said assertively, letting go of me. “That’s it, I gotta run. Thanks again, Phil! You’re the best!” she left with another foxy glance in my direction.
My Reputation with this hot-blooded Southern male had plummeted to new lows, hitting Hatred. The gnashing of his teeth echoed off the walls of our small office.
“Listen, you! That’s my girl, da? You understand? The next time I see you next to her, I’ll kill you!”
Alik tensed up and came on to Vazgen like a young steer. “Whoa, easy, bro! Who do you think you are?”
The Armenian wouldn’t even look at him, ignoring the scowling Alik as if he was just a piece of furniture.
“Alik,” I said. “This is another one of our neighbors. PVC doors and windows.”
Vazgen must have realized that the odds were stacked against him. “Well, I warned you, da?” he spat on the floor and stormed out.
“Oh, so you’re a warner, are you? Quit your bullshit and piss off!” Alik blew up, his street thug’s spirit more than happy to use any chance for a confrontation.
I was pretty sure the reason Vazgen had popped in was to check if I was indeed his neighbor or a snoop sent to spy on him by the mysterious Naeel.
Nonchalantly I picked up my mug from the table and sipped my tea which had already gone cold.
Closer to the evening as I was getting ready for another training session, Kesha and Veronica appeared simultaneously on the doorstep. Veronica was beaming. Kesha had brought my leaflets already printed, neatly stacked up and tied with pieces of string.
Veronica proudly waved an envelope in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. “I got it! I’ve signed it! Let’s celebrate!”
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