Don Bruns: Stuff to spy for

“You talked about a fleet of trucks, James.”

He threw up his hands. “Okay, amigo. But don’t discount it.”

“James, I don’t have the sale yet. Synco Systems is interested. That’s all there is at this moment.”

“Are they shopping it around?”

There was the rub. If they were just getting quotes, I’d actually have to sell. I’d have to go through the script book and make an argument for my company. That’s when my job became tedious.

I had forgotten to ask her. I was so surprised that Sarah was my contact, I’d forgotten to ask. It’s supposed to be a standard question when we visit a business. “Are you shopping for a system anywhere else? Can I ask where? Oh, XYZ? That’s a fine company. Can I show you why our system makes more sense? You see, we offer terms, and we can install in one week and-and-” and on and on. It’s all in the sales manual that I’ve only skimmed once in a while. It’s really quite lame.

“I’m thinkin’, pardner, you meeting up with Sarah. What are the chances? It’s got to be more than just coincidence. Maybe it’s the Lord’s will.”

“I don’t think he had anything to do with it.” James had taken to throwing the phrase around ever since we worked the reverend Preston Cashdollar’s revival tent meeting several months ago. James wasn’t a religious guy, so it had sarcastic overtones.

“Seriously, Skip. Maybe this was meant to be.”

I’d been thinking the same thing. Something really good comes into your life, like me seeing Sarah again, and it’s followed by something else that’s really good, like maybe selling a $75,000 security system. And on top of that, they say good things come in threes. I was anxious to see what the next thing would be. I found out, and it looked great. But, as I mentioned before, it backfired. It actually got me killed.

I didn’t tell James about dinner. I actually lied to him and told him I had to meet with Michael and go over figures to quote the job for Synco Systems. And I didn’t tell Em about dinner. I lied to her as well. It didn’t feel right, even though I was sure nothing was going to happen between Sarah and me, but I lied nevertheless.

And I lied to Sarah. When she asked me if I was seeing anyone, when she asked me if I’d ever been serious with anyone, and when she asked me if I’d ever considered being a father. I answered no to every question. I can’t explain why I denied the truth. But I did. I lied to her, and those innocent white lies came back to haunt me in a way I never would have dreamed of.

It was at this time, when she asked me those questions, I realized she was either very interested in my life, or she was leading up to a story about her own life. You know how it is when you want to introduce a topic about yourself, so you start asking the other person if they’ve ever thought about or considered something, then you turn it around and talk about yourself? Well, it turned out, she needed to spill the story of her life. Just as well. My life sucks. Always has, probably always will.

“I’m very serious about someone, Skip.”

We were sitting on the patio of Barton G’s restaurant, having the Garden Sea Bass with pickled ginger and a variety of vegetables, including the flash-fried asparagus. It was more than I could afford but what the hell. With a little luck, I was going to pocket eleven thousand dollars in a very short period of time, and eventually I could afford this fancy place. For a brief time.

“It didn’t start off that way.”

I nodded. This was my second glass of wine, and I was feeling a little tipsy already. I could drink six beers without much effect, but I was trying to impress Sarah, and wine seemed more sophisticated. The problem was a couple glasses of wine could knock me out.

“We met through a…” she hesitated, “a dating service.” She folded her hands in front of her. Her golden hair hung in ringlets around her face, and I briefly glanced down at her low-cut blouse.

“A lot of people use dating services. This was an Internet dating service?” She needed a service? Every guy in the world would fall down and worship this girl.

She hesitated, searching my face with her big blue eyes. “It wasn’t quite like that.”

“What was it like?” I held a finger up and motioned to our waiter. “Do you have Blue Moon beer?” He rolled his eyes, then glanced at Sarah’s cleavage. Well, it was there for the viewing.

“I suppose the gentleman wants an orange slice?”

“No, thank you.” I shook my head. You always put an orange slice on a Blue Moon, and I really liked having an orange slice, but I didn’t like this guy’s attitude. I showed him.

Sarah pushed her vegetables around the plate with her fork, never looking at me. “I’m telling you this, Skip, because you may do work for our company.”

I couldn’t figure out why her love life would affect my business.

“This guy was-is-married.”

“You knew?” I was hoping her answer was no.

“It didn’t matter.”

“What didn’t matter?”

“Whether he was married.”

“Sarah, you’re losing me.”

She hesitated, picking up a spear of the crispy asparagus, biting off the head. There was something very sensual about the act. Sensual, and scary at the same time. “It’s not important, okay. The thing is, I’m seeing him.”

“And how does this affect me?”

“Sandler is the president of our company.”

“Wow.”

“I know, I know. If you’re going to date, you may as well start at the top.”

“Sarah, how does this affect my job?”

“I’m your contact, Skip. You and I will be working very closely together. If Sandy likes you, you’ll get the job and everything will go smoothly.”

“If he doesn’t like me?”

“He’ll like you.”

“Then it’s all good.”

“He’ll like you because you’re my new boyfriend.”

Man, I had stepped into it. She asked if I was seeing anyone. She asked if I was serious about someone and if I’d ever considered being a father. And now this? Talk about an awkward moment.

“Sarah, we went out a couple of times, but-”

“Sandy’s wife thinks he’s having an affair.”

“And?” She’d just told me he was. With her. And now she wanted me to be her boyfriend?

“She’s not certain. If she finds out for sure, she’ll destroy him.”

“Look, Sarah, I really want this job. I need this job, but what am I getting into?”

Sarah reached across the white linen-covered table and grasped my hand. “Carol Conroy’s father owns Synco Systems. So it becomes a real problem.” She squeezed my fingers tightly.

“Your beer, sir.” An orange slice was stuck in the opening of the bottle. I said nothing. The waiter lingered, taking another look.

“Sarah. You’re making no sense. I’d really like to help you here, but-”

“Carol Conroy is Sandy’s wife. If she can prove that he’s having an affair, she’ll have her father fire him. She’ll destroy Sandy’s career. Can’t you see that?”

I couldn’t see anything. I had no idea where this was going, but that eleven thousand dollar commission was looking less and less attractive.

“Skip, I’ll make it very simple for you. I need a boyfriend. I need someone who, at least for now, appears to be my significant other. If you can do that, if you can keep Carol Conroy from suspecting that I’m having an affair with her husband, you’ve got the job. Sandy will hire you tomorrow. And there will even be a bonus for you. Now, how’s that?”

A bonus? My ears perked up. Maybe pretending to be her boyfriend wasn’t so bad. Of course, I’d have to figure out how to present this to Em. God, Em would never understand this, much less agree to it. “What happens when the job is done? You can’t keep trotting me out the rest of your life.”