Through the Heavy Belgian Clouds

By Mauricio F. Ochoa

A young gas station attendant, Joshua Sinclair, is spontaneously offered a job by the aging real estate tycoon, Winston Steele, during a chance encounter. The cautious, shy Joshua accepts to work for the charasmatic Steele, initially believing he had hit the jackpot. When Joshua flies away to meet Mr. Steele on a business trip in Asia and is soon promoted as the tycoon's chief advisor, things defintiely begin to look up for the young man. But when the trip to Asia turns into a lengthy business trek across the world, Joshua succumbs to feelings of loneliness and self-doubt. His budding romance with Steele's secretary, Kate, gives the college drop-out renewed hope as he proceeds with his bizarre, new life. When things eventually take an ominous turn for Joshua, with him getting entangled in a power struggle between Steele and his business colleagues, he is confronted with some important decisons to make.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 22, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450240826

Mauricio F. Ochoa

Mauricio F. Ochoa currently works as a high school teacher in Chicago and lives there with his wife and daughter. He received a B.A. in Philosophy from the University of Michigan and an M.A. in Education from Loyola University of Chicago. He is also the author of Through The Heavy Belgian Clouds.

Book preview

Through

The Heavy

Belgian

Clouds

MAURICIO F. OCHOA

iUniverse, Inc.

New York Bloomington

Through The Heavy Belgian Clouds

Copyright © 2010 by MAURICIO F. OCHOA

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4502-4081-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-4082-6 (ebook)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 08/23/2010

To my wife, Maria, and daughter, Emma Salome

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter One

Joshua Sinclair was getting ready to close up the gas station at around nine in the evening. It was November in Chicago and the winds from the north were cold and coming in heavy. The winds were so cold it seeped deep into the bone. Joshua agonized over putting everything inside the station because he only had a light jacket on. How was I supposed to know it was going to get this cold? he thought. Earlier in the day, the temperature was relatively warm but a cold front had suddenly come sweeping through at that very moment. Joshua was stuck in the cold now but he braved through it as he locked up the bathroom door at the rear of the station and wheeled in the leftover gallons of windshield washer fluid. The young man always began the process of closing up the station an hour ahead of time because there was so much to do with all the paperwork and physical labor involved. I’m quitting this job in a year, he thought as he finally came back inside, frustrated with the tiresome routine.

The gas station usually died down by nine o’clock and this particular night was no exception. The station was empty, leaving Joshua free to do his work in peace. As he was restocking the cooler, a car could be heard pulling up to the station. Joshua finished putting the remaining beverages into the cooler and then looked outside. What he saw baffled him. He walked closer to the window to get a better view. The car was an ultra-long Maybach with tinted windows. Joshua never saw a car like that before and, considering the neighborhood was a little on the rough side, he was all the more surprised to see such a vehicle there.

A silver haired man wearing sun glasses soon emerged from the car. He was elaborately attired in black coat and trousers, a bright red scarf adorning his outfit. The man looked familiar to Joshua. He thought the man could have been a Hollywood star or mogul. Who could he be? he wondered. As he continued pondering this, the stranger entered the gas station and walked toward the booth. He was of chunky build and medium height, around 5’9’’, looking to be in his sixties. His large head and iron-block forehead gave him a bull-like appearance. His nose was rather flat with a large, unsightly mole over the left side of it. The man appeared crude and street-tough, but upon further inspection, Joshua noticed a more graceful quality about him with the way he gently tucked his scarf back inside his coat and walked with tempered precision. There was an air of power about him.

I’ll have a pack of Marlboro reds, soft pack please, the man requested in a very deep, urbane voice.

Sure, Joshua replied, retrieving the cigarettes from a compartment above. That’ll be five-fifty.

The man then gave Joshua a ten dollar bill and began looking at the young man’s shirt. I know who that is, he said, pointing at the visage of a man on Joshua’s shirt. That’s . . . um, um . . . Jack Louis Sartre, right?

You mean Jean Paul Sartre, Joshua said.

Yes! the man affirmed with a broad smile, revealing yellowish teeth.

Well, it’s not Sartre, but he is a fellow countryman.

Oh, the man uttered, somewhat disappointed at getting it wrong.

This is Rene Descartes, the French philosopher from the Seventeenth century.

Yes, Descartes, said the man with renewed interest. He began to touch his sunglasses as though ready to take them off, but then pointed his finger back at Joshua’s shirt. Yes, I know who Descartes is! He is the man who said ‘I think, therefore . . . um . . . um.’

Therefore I am, Joshua completed.

Yes! I think, therefore I am! Yes! Fantastic! Thanks so much for illuminating my mind on that.

It’s my pleasure, the young man replied. He slowly gave the mysterious customer his cigarettes and change, looking at him and still pondering who he could be.

The silver-haired man was not done: So, what does that mean, ‘I think, therefore, I am’?

Well, I’ve never really read that much of Descartes, Joshua answered humbly, very much intrigued by the question. But I think the importance of the phrase has to do with the assertion of the individual, or individual consciousness, in the whole scheme of life. Until then, philosophy was focused on God, the universe, society, and metaphysics to explain the actions of people, how they behave, how they think, and the like. Well, Descartes, with that phrase, ‘I think, therefore I am’, refocused the attention of philosophy back on the individual and individual consciousness. It’s the belief that we can only guarantee the existence of the individual, not so much of God or other larger forces that were at that time commonly attributed with everything the individual did. Well, Descartes comes along and pretty much says, ‘There’s no God, no heaven, no larger order of things, just the individual’.

That is absolutely fascinating! the mysterious customer declared, apparently impressed with this semi-thorough summary of Rene Descartes’ famous phrase. He then began peppering Joshua with additional questions about Descartes and philosophy, to which the young man was only too happy to answer. After all, when does a customer at this run-down gas station ever ask such questions? The two went on to talk about this for quite some time with Joshua forgetting entirely about his job. Closing time was fast approaching but the conversation showed no signs of ending. There was a strange feeling in the air, as if both of them had crossed paths before. They quickly established a friendly rapport and there was a sense this was no ordinary chance encounter. Fifteen minutes into the conversation, Joshua decided to shift gears a bit.

You look like someone famous, Joshua hesitantly told the silver-haired customer. Am I not correct?

Well, in some corners, I am famous I guess, the man answered.

Yeah, I have seen you on T.V., Joshua confirmed, wagging his finger in the air.

You might have, the man said, now turning and gazing at his car outside. Joshua could smell a little alcohol from his breath. He also noticed for the first time the man’s muscular neck, which further reinforced his bovine appearance. Small red blotches covered his chubby hands. A large gold insignia ring with the initials ‘MSU’ was on his left pinky finger.

Are you an actor? Joshua asked.

Do not insult me! the man scolded him. No, thank God, I’m not some stupid, vain actor.

Are you a movie director?

No.

Hmm . . .

I’m a clueless business man who somehow made a name for himself, the man remarked, a little annoyed. Does that help?

No it doesn’t. I quit, Joshua finally conceded. I can’t come up with a name, but I’m sure I’ve seen you on T.V.

Well, my name is Winston Steele, the man declared, standing up straight. You have probably seen me on CNBC, CSPAN, or some other obscure cable network that begins with a ‘C’ and covers the news.

I don’t know if I have, but I have seen you before, Joshua remarked, probably the newspapers or something.

So, may I ask, are you some philosophy grad student working in this crap-hole to pay your way through school? Winston Steele inquired imperiously, turning the tables on Joshua.

No, the young man replied meekly, I dropped out of school a couple years ago.

Dropped out of school? the man asked with a sense of outrage. What’s an intelligent young man like you wasting away his talents in a place like this?

I don’t know.

You don’t belong here!

Okay, Joshua answered quietly, a bit stunned by such a bold pronouncement. He did not know what to make of the situation, since the man seemed a bit drunk. At the same time, he was drawn to his magnetic presence.

Let me tell you that this is our only crack at life and to waste it is criminal, Winston Steele continued. I can already tell, having just met you, that you are gifted and your services are needed elsewhere! I am certain of that!

You are not the first person who’s told me this, Joshua confirmed.

What is your name?

Joshua.

Well Joshua, do you want an opportunity to improve your miserable lot in life? Winston Steele asked the young man as he finally took off his sunglasses, revealing penetrating ice-blue eyes seemingly carved out from some Arctic glacier. The old man’s hard look startled Joshua as he fell back a couple steps from the protective glass separating them.

What do you mean? Joshua asked.

Well, do you want to remain working in this hell hole?

Are you offering me a job?

First of all, answer my initial question! Winston Steele barked.

Um, no I don’t want to remain working here, I guess. I would like . . .

Good! the man declared, abruptly cutting off the young man. We have established that you don’t want to remain working here. Now, would you like to work for me?

As what? Joshua inquired, much confused.

Don’t worry about that, Winston Steele retorted. Just answer the question. Would you like to work for me?

But I need to know what I’ll be doing, Joshua said uncompromisingly. Am I going to be shining shoes, lifting boxes?

Let me just say, the old man said, leaning closer to the glass barrier and looking squarely at the young man before him, that the job I am offering you at the moment is infinitely better than the one you have now.

But I just met you, Joshua nervously asserted. How can I accept a job from someone I don’t really know? I mean, thanks a lot for offering this job, but I just don’t know if I can accept under these circumstances. I need more information from you.

Very well, said Winston Steele, taking a step back from the protective glass. You have a point, I suppose. Let me just conclude that I need someone with your intellectual abilities at my company. If you are interested in this job, I can give you my secretary’s number right now and you can call tomorrow morning for further details. So, do you want the number?

Yes, I’ll take it down.

Good, its 312-969-1027, extension four, the old man said, putting his sunglasses back on. The girl’s name is Kate. She will tell you everything you need to know.

Great, the young man uttered in a faint voice. I’ll call.

I hope you do, Winston Steele asserted as he was walking out the door. It would be a shame for you to continue wasting your talents in such a way. Joshua watched in disbelief as the mysterious man returned to his luxurious Maybach, the car speeding away shortly thereafter. Proceeding to close the gas station, the young man was left wondering about what just took place.

Chapter Two

When Joshua returned to his apartment later that night, he thought about his strange encounter with Winston Steele. He could not comprehend why such a man would give him the time of day. He obviously was successful and wealthy, so what was he doing offering a job to a gas station attendant? It just did not seem to make much sense. Mr. Steele mentioned the young man’s intellectual abilities, but a scholarly genius was certainly not how Joshua would depict himself. He did enjoy reading works of literature, history, and philosophy, but that did not constitute intellectual giftedness in his eyes. Any bloke can read books and pass himself off as an intellectual, he once told a friend.

Joshua Sinclair was twenty-six years old but had accomplished very little in his relatively short life. He dropped out of college after only two years because it no longer interested him. He had been bouncing around in a world of dead-end jobs, shabby apartments, and shaky relationships with no signs of stability in sight. He did enjoy his freedom to a point, but a life without serious commitments and responsibilities was beginning to take its toll on him. His family, disappointed with Joshua’s lack of ambition, no longer was treating him with much affection and love. His long-time friends were also beginning to turn their backs on him, now considering such a slacker unworthy of their company. Dude, you’re going to soon hit thirty and what will you have to show for it? one of them pointed out. Joshua was also getting tired of the meager wages he was earning, which was hardly enough to pay for the rent, utilities, and food. Such a carefree life was fine when he was younger, but it had now become unbearable.

Joshua, however, refused to make any drastic changes. He remained at the gas station because he had nowhere else to turn. He had long become accustomed to avoiding decisions that would seriously impact his life. He was scared of conflicts and challenges, so much so that he was held back from doing a lot of the things he wanted to do with his life. Yet, there was enough pride in the young man to incur some sense of shame at his current plight. The consequences of leading such a bleak life were finally pushing him into very unfamiliar territory- mental turmoil. If there ever was a time for Joshua to make a desperate move, this was it! He reached for the piece of paper containing Winston Steele’s number deep inside his jacket pocket and put it on the kitchen counter. He looked at it long and hard, growing more convinced of the need to call that number the following morning. For the first time that whole day, a smile appeared on his weary face. I’m going to do it, he thought. I’m going to make the call.

When Joshua woke up the following morning, he immediately went to the kitchen to see if Winston Steele’s number was still there. When the young man saw the number there, he was relieved. It was not a dream after all, he told himself. He wanted to ask one of his friends or family members about the bizarre job offer he had just received the night before. The longer he thought about it, however, the less inclined he was of informing anyone about the situation. Joshua made coffee, poured himself a cup, and drank some of it, thinking deeply about his predicament. Who was this man, Winston Steele? What was the job he was so zealously offering? Would he have to move to another part of the country or world if he accepted the job? Could he get out of his apartment lease immediately if he had to move? These were just some of the nagging questions that were bombarding Joshua’s mind and he began getting nervous about the whole ordeal. Doubts crept up as he contemplated the situation further, and he even considered not making the call. What if the guy was only pulling my leg to have some laughs with his chauffeur? he wondered. What if I was the brunt of some cruel joke?

Joshua would nonetheless cast aside these doubts within a short time, figuring he had absolutely nothing to lose. He eventually picked up the phone and dialed the number of Winston Steele’s secretary. His heart began racing once he heard the ringing on the other end. The phone rang for a while before a friendly, soft voice could be heard on the other line. This must be Kate, Joshua thought.

Hello, this is Winston Steele’s office, she said in greeting.

Yes, um, this is Joshua Sinclair. I am calling about a job offer I received from Winston Steele recently.

Oh yes, the young woman affirmed. Mr. Steele told me about you early this morning. He had very good things to say about you!

That’s really great, Joshua responded, somewhat thrown off by the secretary’s very candid, friendly tone.

Wow, he just said so many wonderful things about you, the secretary continued. Rarely does Mr. Steele think highly of anybody. He told me to take extra care of you if you called, and you have!

Wow, I don’t know what to say, Joshua said, laughing a bit. We just met very briefly last night. I don’t know what to make of all this.

Well, Mr. Steele said he could immediately sense great qualities in you, and let me tell you he is an excellent judge of character! the girl said.

Are you Kate by the way? Joshua finally asked.

Yes I am.

Um, Mr. Steele mentioned you last night, Joshua said. I’m glad I got a hold of you right away.

Well, I’m glad you called and I’m sure Mr. Steele will be very pleased that you have called. So, have you accepted that little job offer of his?

Um, yes, Joshua replied nervously. Actually, before I accept the job offer, I would like to ask a few questions.

Fire away, Kate boldly encouraged in a charmingly rural voice.

What exactly is the job that Mr. Steele is offering me?

Yes, Mr. Steele wanted me to tell you that there is no precise description of the job as of yet, Kate informed the cautious Joshua. He is still in the process of thinking what your role with the company will be.

Then, there is no job yet.

That’s correct, the secretary affirmed.

How can there be a job offer if there is no job? the puzzled Joshua asked.

No, no, you got me wrong! Kate assured. I apologize if I misled you. No, there most certainly is a job lined up for you with the company, but Mr. Steele is still working out the details about what your exact duties will be. He has told me that there’s a job for you and the pay structure is all good to go, and that all he’ll need from you is your acceptance in the form of a signature which will require you to come over here to our downtown offices.

I don’t know, Joshua remarked, still confused about what was occurring. I feel hesitant about signing away on something I’m not so sure about. I mean, this has been all so quick. I need time to think this thing through and to analyze everything before I make a decision. I hope you understand.

Well, how about this, Kate pressed in a reassuring voice. Why don’t you come over here anyway to explore the situation further? We can arrange for somebody to give you a tour of the building. There’s no need for you to make a decision today, but it might be wise for you to come over here and see how things are for yourself. Who knows, maybe Mr. Steele will change his mind about the job offer if you procrastinate even a little. I have a feeling this is a very good job he’s offering you and it would be silly to not take advantage of such a wonderful opportunity.

All right, I’ll go over there today, Joshua finally conceded.

Great! I’ll make all the necessary arrangements for your visit. What time would you like to swing by?

I guess I can go over there sometime this morning.

That would be fine, Kate said.

Probably eleven o’clock, Joshua specified.

That’s perfect!

Kate then went on to provide the address of the building serving as headquarters for Winston Steele’s company. With address and directions in hand, Joshua now had everything he needed to make the trip downtown. He was still skeptical about the situation and continued wondering what was in store for him. But he was more curious than ever about the supposed job offer from Winston Steele and was itching to head over there. Joshua quickly finished his breakfast and ran to the shower.

Joshua arrived downtown after a forty minute train ride. Upon exiting the subway station and stepping outside, he immediately had to brace against some very rough winds swirling amid the adjacent skyscrapers. To shield himself, Joshua shrugged up his shoulders and looked down. This did help matters somewhat, but not enough for him to walk at a leisurely pace as he desperately wanted to get out of the cold. Joshua walked briskly to the building serving as Winston Steele’s headquarters, which was only a couple of blocks from the subway station. He made it to the building within a couple minutes and, glad to be finally out of the cold, rushed through the lobby doors.

He wiped his eyes immediately upon entering the building as they had grown moist from the fierce winds. After wiping his eyes, Joshua looked around and was dazzled by the luxurious appointments of the lobby. There was beige marble everywhere. All the seats and sofas were of the highest quality leather and there were elegant crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Wow! Joshua uttered to himself, wondering for an instant what he was doing in such a fancy place. Impressed with the beautiful interior decor of the lobby, the young man walked slowly up to the concierge stationed at the rear. The concierge, sitting in a high chair, peered down at Joshua and smugly asked him if he needed any help.

Yes, the young man hesitantly replied. I would like to know on what floor is Winston Steele’s office?

Winston Steele? the effeminate, pencil-thin concierge asked, now inspecting Joshua from head to toe as if in disbelief such a commoner would merit an iota of Winston Steele’s attention.

Yes, Winston Steele, Joshua affirmed.

Well, there are many offices, the concierge commented haughtily. There are the offices of finance on the 32nd floor, the offices of real estate on the 34th, 35th, and 36th floors, the tax offices on the 38th, etcetera, etcetera. Do you know which office you are going to?

No, not really, Joshua replied, half laughing. I was just told to go to his main office. That’s all I was told.

Main office? Hmm, the concierge muttered, as he paused to reflect before picking up the phone and making a call. Yes, hello dear, he spoke to someone on the phone. I have this young fellow here who says he was told to go to the main office. His name is . . .

Joshua Sinclair, our friend quietly informed the concierge.

. . . Joshua Sinclair! His name is Joshua Sinclair. Does that ring a bell? . . . Oh, really . . . Okay, I will send him up. Thank you, my dear. The concierge then hung up the phone and looked at Joshua a little more respectfully, though there was a remnant of scorn in his eyes. All right, Mr. Sinclair, the office you are headed to is on the 60th floor. When you get up there, turn to your right and walk all the way down to the end of the hall. Don’t lose yourself up there.

Thank you, Joshua told the concierge before moving off to the elevators further to the rear of the lobby. A guard was standing in the area, casually glancing at Joshua as he entered and pressed the elevator button. One of six doors suddenly opened and the young man slowly entered the elevator. Once inside, Joshua marveled at the elegance of the elevator’s interior space, adorned with green marble, shiny metallic buttons, and rich lighting. So impressed Joshua was of the elevator, he forgot to press the button to move up. He finally did so and nervously anticipated reaching the 60th floor, which did not take long with the elevator’s impressive speed.

When the door opened, Joshua momentarily forgot the concierge’s directions to the office. He got out and began turning left when he eventually remembered what the concierge told him and turned the other way. The hallway was long, dark, and, much to Joshua’s surprise, very unremarkable. In fact, it was stripped entirely bare and there was not even carpeting on the floor, just gray concrete. Our friend walked all the way to the end of the stark hall where there was a simple wooden door with nothing more than a minuscule, brass ‘656’ tacked on it. Joshua paused and wondered if he was at the right place. Could this be the main office of Winston Steele? he speculated. He went ahead, however, and knocked on the door.

Come on in! he heard somebody yell from inside which prompted him to open the door. Joshua walked in and was startled by the very meager furnishings of the office. It was rather small with only two modest sized windows overlooking the Chicago skyline. There was a sofa off to the right of the entrance and a couple Japanese nature paintings on the white-colored walls. However, behind a simple desk at the rear of the room sat a tall and slender woman. She was stunningly beautiful with long, sandy-blonde hair neatly tied in a pony-tail. Her bold and blue eyes immediately enchanted the unsuspecting Joshua. There were some freckles on her perfectly smooth face. The attractive features of her face- the straight nose, lush lips, and angular cheeks- could have graced the cover of a glamour magazine. She was wearing a beige turtle-neck sweater, black skirt, and black leather boots, very much bearing the image of cosmopolitan chic-ness.

In sharp contrast to her, Joshua was short, thin, with a receding hairline and drooping shoulders. He wore large black-framed glasses with thick lenses magnifying his brooding, squid-like eyes. His prominent, bushy eyebrows further accentuated the area around his eyes. His small ears and narrow, rodent-like mouth did nothing to draw attention away from his large, bespectacled eyes. The young man was certainly not the picture of physical beauty and this perplexed the gorgeous woman sitting behind the desk. There was also a clumsiness and tepid-ness about Joshua that she immediately noticed. She surmised he suffered from a lack of confidence.

Are you Joshua Sinclair? she asked.

Yes I am, replied the visitor who remained standing by the entrance, in apparent awe of the secretary’s beauty. You’re Kate, right?

Yes I am! she answered. It’s nice to meet you.

Kate continued to inspect Joshua from her desk as if wondering whether this was the same person her boss, Winston Steele, had raved about and wanted to hire. She sat there chewing gum and twisting her hair while visually examining the humble visitor. Joshua continued standing at the entrance of the office looking very uncomfortable. It finally occurred to the young secretary that she was being rude to Joshua, so she abruptly went about making the poor chap feel more welcome.

Well, Mr. Sinclair, please have a seat there on the sofa there, Kate politely instructed our friend at last. I am going to let Ms. Bellamy know you are here. She will take you around the building and answer any questions you may have.

With that, Kate entered one of the backrooms of the small office, closing the door behind her. Joshua waited for what seemed like an eternity. The phone on her desk rang several times while she was gone, leading Joshua to contemplate the situation further. The very modest trappings of the office convinced him that he was in an ancillary, low-priority wing of the building. How can this be Winston Steele’s main office? he thought, looking around the small room skeptically. Nobody’s here, the phones are ringing, that desk is so small. This can’t be his office! Joshua was beginning to feel restless when Kate finally appeared in the room with a portly woman in a loose-fitting, orange dress.

Sorry for making you wait, Mr. Sinclair, Kate announced upon entering the office from the backroom. This is Ms. Lillian Bellamy, the person who will be taking care of you today.

Hello, Mr. Sinclair! Ms. Bellamy warmly greeted our friend as she walked toward him to shake his hand. Joshua was pleased the wait was over. Mr. Steele told me a lot about you. Why don’t you follow me and I’ll take you around the building and introduce you to the company.

That would be great, Joshua replied, as they both waved good-bye to the beautiful Kate and exited the office. Ms. Bellamy went on to give a short tour of the building and its relevant offices and wings. The gregarious, red-headed woman informed Joshua that thirty of the building’s floors comprised the company’s headquarters, which had direct links to various other branches worldwide. The company has offices in London, Paris, Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Johannesburg, South Africa, Dubai, and several other cities, Ms. Bellamy declared proudly.

Joshua would learn that the name of Winston Steele’s company was Northland Properties Incorporated, which specialized in real estate development. However, Northland is not confined strictly to real estate, Ms. Bellamy added, as it’s tied in with other commercial niches such as marketing, coffee trading, and shipping among others. This is a really big business outfit. The company’s offices around the building were nothing special, nowhere near as fancy as the lobby, but Joshua was impressed nonetheless by the sheer scope and size of the headquarters. It’s going to take me a very long time to learn my way around this place, the young man told his guide.

After a half an hour touring through the building, Ms. Bellamy took Joshua to her office on the 52nd floor. Like most of the other offices, it was rather small and austere. A decent-sized window was at the rear of the room, providing a generous source of light. A desk with a computer and printer was positioned at the corner. Ms. Bellamy asked Joshua to sit in a chair in front of the desk facing her. Once seated, the kindly woman looked up some information on the computer and glossed over a few papers on her desk. Joshua noticed her paying special attention to a couple of signature forms.

All right, Mr. Sinclair, Ms. Bellamy began, I would like to officially address this job offer that Mr. Steele has specifically for you.

Okay, Joshua muttered through a couple nervous coughs.

As it states here on this form, Mr. Steele would like to hire you as a consultant for the company. He just told us about an hour ago about his decision to hire you as a consultant. Your annual base salary, which will be legally registered today if you sign, will be set at a hundred twenty-five thousand dollars.

Consultant? the amazed Joshua asked in disbelief. "Did you say a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars a year? I must tell you, quite honestly, that I am not qualified for such a job. I know nothing of real estate,