The entire office knew J.C. would get it. Lucky dog, Angel thought. Fifteen days in Greece, now that’s one trip I would love to have!”
The building that G&S was located not only housed Gibson & Stein but other firms, as well. The main entrance of the brown brick building gave access to four elevators which were constantly crowded. Too many people in an elevator with so many emotions circulating made Angel feel uncomfortable and trapped. For the past three months, she had been entering through the rear of the building and taking the service elevators to her office. The only people riding those elevators were typically the building maintenance workers. Before Angel entered the building, she noticed a black Bentley parked across the street. It was the same one she had seen parked there for the past few months. She remembered the vehicle because the license plate read “BENT_LY.” How original, she mused.
The passing garbage truck blocked Angel’s view of the passengers inside the Bentley. Sometimes she could get a glimpse of a dark-haired woman with sunglasses sitting inside sipping coffee as if she was waiting for someone. Other times the car was empty. Today she could have sworn she saw two people sitting inside; however, after the garbage truck passed, she never glanced back, nor did she care to. The sanitation truck left a lingering smell of old food mixed with the stench of spoiled milk and feces. Angel almost gagged. Yes! New York City is a dump, but it’s my dumpster, she thought smiling.
Juan Carlos Pintas (J.C.), Angel’s best friend, co-worker, and mentor was a handsome, forty-nine-year-old, married Cuban man with identical twin girls who were enrolled in their third year of college. He stood 6’1”, slim build and well-kept haircut. His suits were always stylish and dapper. His wardrobe was so extensive he probably didn’t have to wear the same suit twice. He always smelled of expensive cologne, the kind you will never find at your local department store.
As soon as Angel walked off the elevator, J.C. hugged her tightly.
“How did you know it would be me getting off the elevator, it could have been a maintenance man?” she stated feeling off guard.
“The maintenance man isn’t coming up here unless he’s following you around.”
J.C. chuckled and pulled out his mobile phone. “I got your text message. Wow, I’m so happy for Jesse. A full ride to Louisiana State? That is great news. I always felt he should pursue football. The boy has talent,” said J.C.
“Well, it shocked the heck out of me. He turned down Harvard and Yale for this. I’m praying he made the right decision,” replied Angel.
“Of course, he did! The boy has to follow his passion. At his age, all we can do as parents is sit back and support their decisions.” Angel nodded her head in agreement. Under the fluorescent lights, she could see J.C.’s brown eyes staring at her shoulder bag for a brief moment. He smiled brightly at her and grabbed her belongings before walking toward the glass door of their office.
Gibson & Stein occupied the top three floors of the building, floors eighteen-twenty. The eighteenth floor was the main entrance of G&S. That was where the receptionist and conference rooms were located. People not employed at G&S did not have access to the nineteenth and twentieth floors. Those were restricted from the general public and could only be accessed through key cards. Clients with an appointment would report to the receptionist who would then contact the advisor. The advisor would then personally escort the client to their office. There were very strict rules at G&S. Visitors were never allowed passage within the facility without an escort. The nineteenth floor contained the offices of the financial advisors. The larger offices, like J.C. and Angel’s, were adjacent to each other with a secretary that sat in the middle of the floor. Advisors that had huge accounts were often given a secretary; those without secretaries had to manage their own schedules. The twentieth floor held Human Resources, Administration, and Mr. Lee’s huge office. Mr. Lee was the Chief Executive Officer in charge of the New York City branch of Gibson & Stein. He was an extremely busy man and was usually seen only during employee meetings, like today.
G&S was a very fashionable firm. It was beautifully furnished, featuring Italian leather chairs, desks made of pure mahogany, and bright sand-colored rugs that were vacuumed daily. There were black and white pictures hanging on the walls of all the different locations of G&S around the world. Angel’s favorite was the photo of the G&S location in Madrid which reminded her of great memories during her time there.
Angel and J.C. stopped to greet their secretary, Cynthia. Cynthia was new to G&S. She had started working for the company ten months earlier and came highly recommended by a small advising firm in downtown Brooklyn that went under. She was a young woman with wide brown eyes, a slim figure, and long black hair that she generally wore in a low bun. Her make-up was applied tastefully and was appropriate for the office. They enjoyed having Cynthia around. She was great at managing their schedules―not like their last secretary who screwed everything up and sent J.C. to Angel’s appointments and vise versa. Cynthia was detailed-oriented and very structured. When Angel forgot an important client’s birthday, Cynthia took care of sending the gift on her behalf. The best part about her was that every morning she had two large cups of coffee waiting for J.C. and Angel. She knew how much J.C. hated the taste of the office-brewed coffee, so she took it upon herself to pick up coffee on her way to work. They felt spoiled, but they genuinely appreciated Cynthia’s good-hearted nature and the fact that she was very proficient at her job.
“Good morning, Cynthia,” Angel and J.C. said in unison, smiling brightly. Angel turned to J.C and chuckled, “Not only are you stalking me, but now you’re copying me?”
J.C. laughed and glanced at Cynthia who was smiling cheerfully at both of her bosses. She rose from her desk and handed them their coffee. She then proceeded to give them messages and reminded them about the yearly staff meeting that was taking place in the next hour.
“Also, Mr. Pintas, please do not forget your lunch date with Ex-Mrs. Littman, not New-Mrs. Littman,” Cynthia stated.
Angel and J.C. both sipped their coffee and reviewed their messages intently.
Angel’s office was a nice, cozy, oversized space filled with pictures of her children, awards for her achievements, and a hand-crafted red and cream Persian rug that was gifted to her by an extremely wealthy client. Her mahogany desk was filled with a growing mound of paperwork that required her personal attention. She had a laptop, a phone, and a few typical office supplies. J.C. moved himself around to Angel’s desk. He placed her shoulder bag on top of her files and made himself comfortable in her leather chair.
Perplexed, Angel questioned, “You know that’s where I sit, right?”
“Yep, but I like this chair better for some reason. It’s so soft, doesn’t squeak or hurt my back. The client chair sucks,” stated J.C., pointing to the two smaller leather chairs on the opposite side of the desk. The chairs for her guests were easy on the eyes but not on the back. Sitting on them for too long would stiffen a person’s bottom and back. Many of her guests preferred to sit on the couch.
“We can also sit on the couch if you like,” she stated, directing his attention to the brown leather three-seater couch against the window.
“That’s pretty comfortable too. I’ve had many late-night naps on that couch, and it hasn’t hurt my back yet.”
“Naww, I’m fine here,” replied J.C., crossing his legs and exposing his colorful Italian socks and brown leather shoes.
Angel took the smaller seat across from him and exhaled.
“So what’s up?” She asked sensing something wasn’t right.
“Well, I have great news, some disturbing news, and some, damn that’s messed up news. Which do you want to hear first?”
“Okay, give me the damn that’s messed up news first,” she answered.
“Really, that threw me for a loop. I didn’t expect you would choose that option,” replied J.C.
Angel stared at J.C. in anticipation.
“Well, if you didn’t want to tell me
the sour news first, then why was it an option?” she questioned.
He tried to maintain his smile, and Angel felt something was not right with her friend. She tilted her head slightly to the right to get a better reading from his eyes. Angel’s smile disappeared.
“J.C., what’s wrong?”
J.C. gave a stunned expression, but he knew better than to try to trick Angel. The girl was a good judge of character, he always reminded himself. Damn spiritual reader, he thought.
“J.C.,”…she coaxed quietly.
He could tell she was growing anxious.
“Alright. Theo Rosen took the Littman account from right under my nose.”
Angel gasped and quickly placed her hand over her mouth. Mr. Littman was one of J.C.’s wealthiest clients. He had been handling his finances for several years. Their relationship was not just business; it was an esteemed and personal trust built over several years. Mr. Littman remained wealthy due to J.C.’s expertise in financial counseling; and in return, Mr. Littman introduced him to his other wealthy friends who inevitably hired him to handle their portfolios. It didn’t seem right for Mr. Littman to switch over with a snap of a finger.
J.C. continued his story. “Yeah I found out over the weekend that Theo has been poaching away for some time. Mr. Littman’s new twenty-something-year-old wife has apparently been taking advice from him. The new wife and Theo attended the same university together. She told Mr. Littman, “Theo knows his stuff,” ignoring the fact that I’ve been his advisor for years and she’s only been married to him for a year.”
J.C. sounded disgruntled by the situation. Angel placed her hands on the table and reached out for J.C. They held hands as she looked directly into his light brown eyes. It was her way of comforting her friend before she broke the silence.
“Damn! That is messed up!” Angel stated.
J.C. tried to smile, letting go of her hands and rubbing his chin. “Yeah, so with that news I put in my two weeks’ resignation this morning.”
Angel gasped again.
“Juan Carlo, What is wrong with you?” She stated incredulously in a Spanish accent that seemed to come and go when she felt uneasy. “Is this the disturbing news? Are you seriously going to let that little worm Theo break you? You lost a major account, so what! you have many others.” She was growing angry. “I’m sure Mr. Littman will come crawling back. I can’t believe that the old bastard even let his new wife go with another advisor. The wife could have just stayed with Theo under her own account, why the entire transfer?”
J.C. sipped his coffee and responded, “His new wife doesn’t have her own money. She’s a twenty-six-year-old, senseless, young woman using Littman’s money to become an actress or…” J.C.’s voice trailed off with an expressive shrug of his shoulders. He refrained from insulting his clients, even though they were being disloyal to him. “You know what I mean. Littman is in his late sixties. Do you think he cares if he loses a few million?”
“But J.C., you helped that old man grow his millions into billions. You also attended each Bar Mitzvah for his four ungrateful sons and vacationed on his yacht with your wife,” Angel said annoyed. “Doesn’t the relationship between you two matter?”
“I guess not, Angel,” J.C. replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, Littman’s ex-wife contacted me. She wants to meet for lunch to discuss opening up a personal account with Gibson & Stein to invest the monies she’s receiving from her alimony. She has a very large amount of money, Angel; so I want you to handle her account. I won’t be working in this shit hole anymore,” J.C. replied jokingly while flinging Angel’s important documents up in the air.
Angel did not laugh or smile. She remained serious and began picking up her documents from the floor. J.C. watched Angel uneasily, picking up his mess, placing the papers back on her desk, and sitting back down to stare at him.
“Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have been so dramatic.”
“I guess this must be your good news. You’re quitting,” she said sarcastically.
“Hey, lighten up. I’ll be okay. Mildred and I talked about cashing in our investments, traveling, and enjoying our time. Theo didn’t break me. He helped me make a decision I’ve been pondering for months. The idea of an early retirement was always something I worked and invested for. Theo only made it happen that much sooner. I’m over fighting for my accounts and clients.”
Angel remained silent. Theodore Rosin was officially on her shit list, that little snake.
“Besides, I know today at our annual meeting I may win the trip, so Mildred and I want to donate the trip to you and the kids. You guys go to Greece, on us, and enjoy.”
Angel looked at her best friend seriously. “I don’t want your trip. I want you to stay on board.”
This time, J.C. reached for his friend’s hands and held them tight. “Angel, I have other accounts. Littman was one big fish out of many. I want to transfer my other clients to you. They are loyal; since my clients trust me and I trust you, I know they will be in great hands. That is my good news,” J.C. replied proudly as if accomplishing a goal.
Angel stared on in silence.
He continued, “You cannot, under any circumstance, let Theo grab your accounts. The little rat is greedy, and he is up to something.”
“J.C., I can’t handle more accounts,” she explained worriedly.
He smiled, “Yes, you can! Any help you need, you can call me. But trust me, it isn’t difficult. Now enough of this bad news, come have lunch with Ex-Mrs. Littman and I. I’ll introduce you two. We can stick her with the bill to a scrumptious and expensive meal at the Four Seasons. They have great steak!”
Angel folded her arms in annoyance. She didn’t want to hear any more of J.C.’s irrational plans. Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” Angel commanded.
Cynthia opened the door and peeked in, smiling. It was amusing to her to see J.C. sitting in Angel’s chair and Angel seeming like the client or a student being scolded by the principal. “I knew you two would lose track of time. Your meeting is starting in three minutes. You two need to hustle.”
Angel and J.C. both looked at their watches―it was minutes to 9:00 am. “I can’t believe we couldn’t last an hour without you,” said J.C.
“It’s a good thing I’m still keeping track of time,” replied Cynthia.
J.C. looped his arm in a gentlemanly manner so Angel could slide her arm through his. The two of them walked quietly to their meeting. Angel nibbled at her bottom lip still pondering J.C.’s news. Why was it that every time things seemed to be running on track, some monkey throws a wrench into the situation? she thought.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to our annual Gibson & Stein meeting,” said Mr. Lee, the Chief Executive Officer of the company. The conference room was large and accommodated thirty people comfortably. The financial advising department was a staff of twenty-five. All of the chairs were leather swivel and the oval-shaped table was made of smooth oak. There were plenty of windows surrounding the office, which made it easy to stare out and daydream. The automatic shades were kept midway to allow sunlight to warmly fill the room but not enough to blind the audience staring at the large screens that decorated the walls. Angel didn’t mind the meetings, she learned a lot of interesting things, but most importantly, they fed you. It was never the usual continental breakfast. It was a full-blown buffet with fluffy pancakes, fancy eggs, a variety of fresh fruit, a Greek yogurt stand, and freshly-brewed coffee.
Angel stared at the pancakes and smiled. “All she wanted this morning were pancakes,” she said to no one in particular.
J.C. moved beside her to grab a yogurt.
“All who wanted was pancakes?”
“Maggie, she came into my room this morning begging for pancakes. She thought it was Saturday. And here, we have nothing but pancakes,” stated Angel softly at the coincidence.
“You should have brought her to the meeting,” J.C. said jokingly. Angel smiled at the comment.
“As lovely as she is, she could never sit still for too long. Her boredom would tear this place up.” Angel grabbed a glass plate and served herself some seasonal fruit and scrambled eggs. She soon heard Mr. Lee doing a mic check as the voices in the room began to simmer down.
“If everyone can please take their seats, we have plenty to cover this morning,” said Mr. Lee to the staff gathered in the conference room. Everyone began to grab their breakfast and hurry to their chairs. Angel and J.C. sat next to each other. Mr. Lee cleared his throat and proceeded with the agenda.
“Today we will discuss the strengths and weaknesses of this company, the direction we are going in, and the winner of this year’s competition.” Angel glanced at J.C. who was writing a few notes on his stationary. She then glanced over at Theodore Rosin who was sitting across from her drinking a fresh cup of coffee.
Theodore was your typical young professional. He had dark hair, a beard, and a Tom Cruise haircut. He had beady little eyes and squinted constantly because he refused to wear his glasses. He wasn’t extremely handsome, but he wasn’t the worst. He was the type of guy you would see at a bar and think, He’s alright looking: and the more you keep drinking, the hotter he appeared. He was twenty-five but very immature and at times, really annoying. Angel avoided conversations with him. He was always too inquisitive about a client; now she knew why.
Theo felt Angel staring at him. He glanced in her direction, winked, and returned his attention to Mr. Lee. Mr. Lee spoke about the new G&S branch that was opening in Dubai. He encouraged top employees to apply for the position and discussed the incentives that came along with the transfer.
Trapped Inside Humanity Page 3