Sorcerer

2

Jeff left the apartment earlier than usual. As he exited through the main doors at the end of a small lobby, he saw the man sitting on the front steps. His clothes were filthy and ragged, his thinning dark hair snarled and matted, and the scraps of material covering his feet just barely qualified as shoes.

“Excuse me,” Jeff said firmly, “but I’ve asked you not to hang around here. If you keep it up I’ll have to call the police, understand?”

The man looked at him through bloodshot eyes and scratched at the heavy growth of stubble along his chin. “Why do you hate me?” he asked in a raspy voice.

Eden’s face came to him just then, her words from the night before ringing in his ears. You used to be a lot more compassionate. Jeff continued to the bottom step. “Look,” he said, attempting a considerate tone, “I don’t hate you, all right? But you make a lot of people in the building uncomfortable.”

“Then how come you’re the only one who gives me a hard time? I’ve never done anything to you.”

“Don’t you have anywhere else to go?”

“If I had anywhere but the street, don’t you think I’d be there?”

Jeff found himself studying the man closely for the first time.

They were roughly the same age, middle thirties, and he couldn’t help but wonder how things might’ve been different had their lives taken even slightly altered courses. Maybe they’d have been friends or colleagues, or maybe their roles would’ve been reversed. “Isn’t there anyone who can help you get on your feet?”

“I wasn’t born like this you know.” The man did his best to smooth his hair into place with his grimy hands. “I used to have everything you’ve got, things just went bad. It happens.”

Jeff reached for his wallet. “Listen, I just lost my job recently so I’m not in a position to do much, but let me give you a few bucks.

Go get a bite to eat and clean up a little.”

The man stared at the twenty in Jeff’s hand. “I don’t want your money.”

“Just take it and go, all right?” Jeff thrust it at him a second time.

The man struggled to his feet and slowly walked away.

Whatever, Jeff thought. I tried. He returned the money to his wallet and started off in the opposite direction along Massachusetts Avenue. Their apartment, located in Boston’s Back Bay, was only a few blocks from the Boston Commons public park. Their neighborhood consisted largely of residential three-story walkups sandwiched one against the next that catered mostly to long-term tenants or college kids renting apartments from local college-owned buildings. But for the nearly constant traffic along the avenue, it was a nice area, though one Jeff couldn’t be sure how much longer they’d be able to afford.

He turned at the corner and continued on until he’d reached Boylston Street. There he stopped at a newsstand, bought a Boston Globe then crossed the busy intersection leading to Copley Square, a large cement park between the Hancock Tower, a shopping complex and several enormous old churches. He sat on a bench, watched the intricate water fountain at the center of the square. It was still early, but the commuters and businesspeople were already hurrying about on their way to jobs, juggling briefcases and coffees, babbling into cell phones and furiously texting on their BlackBerries. Not so long ago he’d been just like them, and now here he sat on a park bench like some loser. With a weary sigh, Jeff opened his newspaper to the “ Classified” section.

He’d not been scanning the ads long when he noticed a strikingly attractive young woman scoping out the square. Dressed in a pinstripe skirt-suit and black heels, she stood out from the crowd and looked like an up-and-coming business executive, her raven-black hair styled perfectly, her makeup flawless. Sexy but professional, she held a leather briefcase in one hand and a cell phone to her ear with the other. She caught Jeff looking at her, smiled, then after saying something into the phone, slipped it into the side pocket of her briefcase and started toward him with a confident and purposeful stride.

Holy shit, she’s coming over here. Heart racing, he quickly pretended to return his attention to the newspaper, but she’d already closed the gap between them.

“Hey there,” she said, her smoky voice laced with a slight raspy quality. “How are you?”

Jeff looked up over the paper as if he’d just noticed her. “Oh hi,” he said, nervously clearing his throat. “I’m fine thanks. And you?”

“Outstanding.” She bent her knees and placed the briefcase on the ground next to her, then reached inside the main compartment and removed a flyer of some sort.

Christ, he thought, she’s selling something. Yet the woman looked far too well-dressed and successful to have a job peddling wares or handing out flyers to strangers on the street.

“I hope you won’t think I’m being too forward, but may I ask a question?”

Jeff’s cynical instincts kicked in but he still couldn’t seem to get beyond how gorgeous the woman was. “Sure,” he said, setting the newspaper aside, “ask away.”

“Are you looking for work by any chance?”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Well, let’s see. It’s a little before nine in the morning on a weekday, you’re sitting on a park bench rather than on your way to work, you’re dressed casually-which means it’s either your day off or you’re unemployed-and you’re reading…” With a mischievous glint in her eyes she looked to the bench and zeroed in on the newspaper, “…the classified section. Call me crazy, but I bet you’re looking for a job.”

“Impressive.” Did I just wink at her? I did. Jesus. “Are you a detective?”

“Hardly.”

“So I’m not under arrest then?”

This time she did the winking. “Not yet.”

Gushing like a schoolboy, Jeff laughed longer and louder than seemed necessary. Why am I so nervous? You’d think a beautiful woman had never spoken to me before. Eden’s gorgeous, she-EDEN-shit, right, Eden. Ratchet it down a few million pegs before you get yourself in trouble, dipshit.

“Check it out.” She thrust the flyer at him, her bright smile still in place and her dark, exotic and catlike eyes studying him.

“It could change your life.”

Jeff took the flyer. It advertised interviews being conducted later that same day but gave no indication what the jobs were and no specific information

about the company itself. IF YOU’RE SERIOUS ABOUT CHANGING YOUR LIFE WE MAY HAVE THE EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITY YOU’VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR. FOR ONE DAY AND ONE DAY ONLY, INTERNATIONAL FACILITATOR, INC. AND ITS CEO AND FOUNDER, WORLD-RENOWNED ENTREPENUER F. HOPE, WILL BE CONDUCTING EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEWS IN YOUR CITY. IF YOU’RE RIGHT FOR US THIS COULD BE THE FIRST STEP TOWARD MAKING YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE.

He’d never heard of International Facilitator, Inc. or F. Hope, but whoever they were it was obviously some sort of con. Legitimate companies didn’t recruit employees with street flyers. Probably a sales seminar conducted by some douche bag with a middle-of-the-night infomercial, Jeff thought. A self-appointed expert sharing his ‘secret’ of success if you’ll buy his insanely overpriced videos and books. Get in on it now and I’ll make you rich. Uh-huh, sure you will.

“It’s not what you think,” the woman assured him.

He looked up at her questioningly.

“The expression on your face gave you away.”

He attempted to hand the flyer back. “Thanks, I think I’m all set.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” she said, sliding onto the bench next to him. “But do you mind if I ask your name?”

Up close she was even more beautiful, and smelled intoxicating.

He felt himself blush. “Jeff.”

She extended her hand. It was dainty, with small, thin fingers, nails manicured, tapered and painted power red. “Jessica Bell.”

He shook her hand. It was warm and soft and he felt a tingle that began in his lower back spread out across his entire body the moment they made contact. “Jeff,” he said again, head spinning. “Jeff McGrath.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jeff.”

“The pleasure’s mine.” He hoped to come off suave but knew he was more than likely making a fool of himself. He hadn’t seriously flirted with anyone other than Eden in years and it showed.

“Frankly, Jeff,” Jessica said in a conspiratorial tone, “I’d no longer have any interest in setting up an interview for you if you weren’t skeptical. I know this whole thing seems suspect, but trust me, it’s no scam. This is one of those instances in your life when you can either walk away or seize the moment, you know? A few years back, when one of his other recruiters approached me and handed me a flyer, I thought it was all a crock too. I was in New York, and I’d been working as a secretary at an accounting firm and taking acting classes at night. I wanted to be an actress back then, before Mr. Hope showed me my full potential. Anyway, I’d just been let go from the firm due to budget cuts and I was in trouble, a small town girl not long out of junior college and all alone in the big city, right?

But I figured I had nothing to lose, so I went to the interview just for the hell of it. It changed my life, Jeff. It changed my life.”

Jessica crossed her legs then smoothed the skirt down over her knees.

“You see, what I didn’t know then was that the recruiters are trained to spot potential, to look for certain signs in individuals that indicate they might be right for our company. Back in New York the recruiter saw those signs in me. Just now, Jeff, I saw them in you.”

Even though he knew it was probably all part of some carefully calculated pitch, he couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered. Losing his job had damaged his self-esteem and confidence, and there were worse things than having a beautiful woman sit so close and say nice things about him. “I’m curious,” he said, “what exactly are those signs?”

“We’re talking intangibles here.”

“Can’t even give me one example?”

She thought a moment before answering. “What I do involves instinct, utilizing a highly-developed ability to spot that special something in people that sets them apart. Strength, confidence-”

“And need?”

She relaxed her smile into something a bit more genuine. “And need,” she confessed softly. “But if you’ll notice, Jeff, this area is mobbed with people. The only person I’ve given a flyer to is you.”

“Well, so far anyway.”

“No. I was just about to leave when I spotted you sitting here.”

She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning away from him and gazing out over the square. “Did you lose your job recently?”

“A few months back.”

“Sales?”

“You’re good.”

“I’m well-trained. Were you in management?”

“Right again. Twelve years with the company, nine in management.”

“What line?”

He arched an eyebrow.

“I’m good, not psychic.”

Jeff chuckled. “It was a high-end car audio business. We did sales and installation, but unfortunately the giant discount stores have wiped out most of the specialty chains.”

“I noticed a wedding band. Do you have children too?”

Jeff relaxed a bit and decided to enjoy the game. “You tell me.”

She turned back to him, looked deep into his eyes. “No kids.”

“No.” Jesus, he thought, I’m actually swooning. “Not yet anyway. Hopefully at some point soon but right now we’re not in a position to-”

“Your wife works but doesn’t make a whole lot, right? It’s not enough, is it, Jeff? You’re in financial trouble.”

“It’s getting tough, yes.”

“Then tell me, what in the world do you have to lose at this point? There are a very limited number of slots, and I’ll be honest, I only get paid if one of my finds actually gets hired. So if you’re really not interested just tell me now, OK?”

“I thought I already had.”

“OK,” she said, hopping back to her feet, “it was nice to meet you then.”

“Wait,” he said. “How am I supposed to know if I’m interested when I don’t have any particulars? I don’t know what the job is or what your company does.”

“It’s a multifaceted company,” she told him as she sank back down to the bench. “A great many tentacles, if you will, involved in a great many ventures. It’s better to attend the interview and speak with Mr. Hope directly. He can give you the specifics and discuss things with you in detail. If I didn’t think there was a position you’d be qualified for or worth training for, Jeff, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you. Look at me, I was a secretary and was trained to be a recruiter, something I had no experience or even interest in until I was hired and saw the potential not only in the position, but in myself.”

“Is this a company or a cult?”

“Oh, definitely a cult,” she cracked. “But you don’t get your official robe and hood until you eat your first baby under the light of a full moon.”

Jeff couldn’t take his eyes from her. “The interviews are today?”

“Yes, Mr. Hope will only be in Boston a few days. His time is limited.”

“What the hell,” he heard himself say, “I’ve got nothing else to do anyway.”

“Awesome!”

“Where and when?”

She consulted her watch, which from the looks cost slightly more than his car. “The next available slot is around noon, 11:45, to be precise.”

“Good, then I have time to run home, get into a suit and grab a resume.”

“Not necessary. You’re fine. Listen, have you had breakfast?”

“No, actually, I-”

“I’m starving.” Jessica stood up, straightened her skirt and picked up her briefcase. “Want to join me for a bite to eat then we can head over to the interview? I’m staying over at the Plaza. They have a nice restaurant there. I hate eating alone, don’t you?”

Jeff willed himself to remain seated. “I’m flattered, but my wife wouldn’t-”

“It’s OK, really.” She smiled at him the way a child might smile at a puppy. “You love your wife and you don’t fool around. I respect that, says a great deal about your character. But I was talking breakfast, not a weekend in Aruba. I’m thinking coffee, maybe a bagel and some conversation, nothing spectacular or adulterous. Unless,” she said, leaning closer, “sharing a pitcher of orange juice constitutes cheating, in which case we’re into some seriously scandalous shit.”

You ass, he thought. She wasn’t making a pass, she was just being nice. Or could be she’s afraid if she let’s me go now I’ll blow off the interview later.

“Come on, breakfast’s on me.” She offered him her free hand.

“OK?”

Still mesmerized, Jeff placed his hand in hers. “OK.”