Page 8 of The Politician

“I, uh, got an email for work. This is the number that was given.”

“Of course, it was, as I sent it. You’ve been chosen to possibly be the personal assistant of a former graduate of Georgetown. If you’d like to interview, please come to the address I’ll send to you in the next email. Not all the employers are Georgetown alums, but they have connections to them. This is a terrific opportunity, so if you’re not interested, say as soon as possible so another can claim it.”

“I don’t know if I am or not yet. Can I do the interview first?”

Sandy was nodding like his head would fly off his shoulders and Felix fanned himself with his cards.

“Of course. You’d be crazy to take a job without thinking on it first, and of course, meeting your prospective employer.”

His relief became audible as he sighed long and loudly before catching himself and saying, “Thank you for the opportunity.”

“I can get you in at seven this evening. If that’s inconvenient, please, tell me.”

“No, no, that’s perfect. Thank you again.”

After he ended the call, Rhianna gazed at him skeptically. “Sandy’s going with you.”

“What? Why are you volunteering me for this covert op?”

“He needs someone to make sure this isn’t some weird kidnapping scheme or something. You never know nowadays.”

“Then why aren’t you going?”

She patted Eli’s back as she confessed, “I’d be afraid to be the one to go with you, being female, and if this is some weird sex trafficking thing…well…”

“You think these are sex traffickers?” He asked in a squeak.

“No! I mean, well, I don’t know.”

Sandy growled at her, “Jesus, Rhi!”

“Well!”

Sandy got up and grabbed Eli’s arm, leading him to the room of their other roommate, Chester. Chester was a gamer, making his rent by streaming his gameplay online. “We need that three-thousand-dollar suit of his. You have got to look like you want the job but not need it.”

“I do need it!”

“These are rich assholes. If you go in there looking like ass, they’re gonna treat you like ass.”

Sandy pounded the door hard and on the third try, it opened to a greasy-haired man in sweats and no shirt.

“What? I paid rent!”

Sandy glowered, glancing over to Eli. “Jesus. This is why I stopped playing video games.”

“What’s up? I am in a tournament!”

Eli spoke before Sandy could say something that would send the gamer back into his lair. “Can I borrow that suit? That one you got for your graduation.”

“Sure. Take it. Is that it?”

Sandy pushed past him without answering and Eli followed. Chester got back to the game he’d been playing, and Eli immediately groaned, “Fuck, Chester, don’t you ever clean?”

The stench was bad, like old food and urine, and Eli saw the reason for the urine. There were Sunny D bottles there, filled with yellow liquid instead of the bright orange. “Damn.”

“Don’t like it, leave the suit and hit the door.”

Sandy rifled through the closet and finally came out with the suit in a garment bag. “Good thing for the bag. That’ll keep it from smelling like this room.”