4
Evan
This meeting could have beenan email. Actually, every meeting I’ve been to in the last six months could have been an email that went like this:
Good morning,
Just checking in to make sure that we’re still making a lot of money. Here’s a chart of our profit margins. As you guessed it, we’re still rolling in cash.
Also, let’s keep encouraging Evan to come up with ideas to create more lucrative software to sell that can maintain our extravagant country club fees.
Kindly fuck off,
Corporate America
Even though I’m glad to be back in the city having left Silicon Valley behind, I still can’t seem to get away from a boardroom, even on a Friday night. I figured that once I got the payout from the partial sale of my software to all the major hospitals in the country, I would be able to relax and finally enjoy my wealth. Instead, in the wise words of Biggie Smalls, “Mo money, Mo problems.”
I will admit I have come a long way from the kid who grew up in South Boston. I had the cards stacked against me the second my dad imploded our lives by leaving us to fend for ourselves. My mother is an angel who supported my dreams as a single mom. Which is why I love the daily photos I get from her at her Boca Raton home, relaxing by the pool.
I set her up with a fund with enough money to last her ten lifetimes. I called it her retirement present. She wasn’t keen on accepting my financial help, but once she fully understood that I was basically a billionaire, it seemed silly for her to refuse the things that I’ve always dreamed of giving her. She also complained that the home I bought her was too big for just her, so she moved her sisters in, and now they’re spending their retirement hitting up all the happy hours and flirting with the locals.
I keep her in mind, and try to remind myself to be grateful while spending most of my time during these meetings staring at memes, checking Twitch to see which of my friends are currently gaming,lucky bastards, and scrolling through Instagram. I’m not a big social media guy, but some recent activity has unfortunately piqued my interest.
Amelia Nuñez’s profile.
During one of my endless meetings with my finance team, I noticed that some pictures were missing from Amelia’s profile. And yes, I noticed because I look often, even though I know I shouldn’t torture myself. The pictures in question are the ones with her fiancé. Some sick part of me keeps hoping that it means trouble in paradise, but that would mean Amelia would be heartbroken, and she’s had enough of that to last a lifetime. Yet something in my gut tells me that this is more than just a lovers quarrel over wedding planning.
Usually, news like this gets to me quickly via the cousin crew group chat, but Amelia is also on it so I doubt anyone would bring it up there. I really need to meet up with them in person soon because I know within the first five minutes of saying hello, one of the women will give me a full unsolicited deep dive of thechismethat I’ve missed while I was gone.
Just as I’m about to close the app and try to feign the least bit of interest in what my head of finance is saying, I notice that Amelia has just posted a story. I click on it and panic turns in my stomach.
5
Evan
“Bad decisions will be made tonight!”
I read these words over and over again while watching a boomerang of Amelia and her friend Nikki taking shots of God knows what while wearing ...Jesus Christwhat is she wearing?! The photo is angled from above, but I can make out a shiny material with a very low cut. Too low cut.
I refresh the story again hoping to see if there’s a follow up to these “bad decisions,” but come up empty.
Close the app, leave it alone. It’s none of your business.
“So, we’ll pause here and hand it over to Evan. Anything you would like to add to the Q1 projections?”
Shit.
“Thanks Peter. No, I have nothing to add. You guys seem to have covered it all, it’s as if you don’t even need me here.” I smile and the team lightly chuckles. “Speaking of which, you can all continue without me. Some pressing matters have come up that I need to tend to. Feel free to CC me on all future emails on Q1 projections and we can touch base on Monday. Goodnight, everyone.”I stand and start making my way out of the conference room.
And that is how I’ve survived the corporate world. You use the most amount of words to give an answer with the least amount of new information. Then receive nods from your colleagues, and find the nearest escape route.
Except this time, I’m not rushing home to game with my friends. I’m now on a mission to find where these “bad decisions” are taking place, so I can have a long overdue conversation withLittle Miss Amelia.
6
Amelia
“I can’t believeI let you convince me to leave the apartment looking like a hoochie,” I say as we get out of the Uber and start walking to the warehouse hosting the elusive party Nikki has been amping me up for all week. Thank God I forgot to charge my phone and it died on me. That way drunk Amelia won’t make an appearance all over my social media.
