The Backup Asset

…30

The doorbell made Quentin jump from his armchair, rubbing his palms together in excited anticipation. His free pizza was here.

He opened the door, took the box, and tipped the delivery boy generously. The boy smiled widely and left with a spring in his step.

He took the pizza box with both hands, almost subconsciously noticing it wasn’t as hot as he’d expected it to be. He set it on the table, grabbed a plate and a napkin, and turned on the TV. Then he lifted the lid to get a slice, but froze mid-gesture, speechless, his jaw dropped.

Several hundred-dollar bill packets, all used currency, lay neatly arranged in the pizza box. Judging by the label on one of the packets, there were eighty-thousand dollars in total. A disposable cell phone was in there too, and a folded sheet of paper, which Quentin grabbed with trembling hands.

It read, “If you wanted a change in your life, well, this is opportunity knocking. I’m offering you a way out of your desperate rat race. Call the number stored in this phone’s memory to talk.”

His knees felt weak and he sat down at the table, unable to take his eyes off the disposable phone. What did that mean — a way out of the rat race?

He knew he had to call… there was no other option. People don’t just send eighty grand and expect nothing in return. He played with the idea of calling the cops for a few seconds, then quickly discarded it. That would really make me deserve my rat race, now, wouldn’t it?

With ice-cold, sweaty fingers, he grabbed the cell phone and retrieved the stored number. He stared at the displayed number for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and pressed the Call button.