Sixty seconds.

He tapped his hand rhythmically against his arm, following the beat of the nearby clock, from which he could not look away. There was a deep irate scowl on his face, yet he felt expectation at the same time. Time kept moving forward.

Two minutes.

A pleased smile grew on his lips as he reviewed the document on his desk again, for the tenth time. His smirk was not due to the great monthly profits indicated on the paper. No, he found satisfaction in counting more seconds instead, for he considered them valuable and scarce.

Five minutes.

Too many. He always spent his time wisely and in good judgement, eternally devoted to his work and office. Sadly, others did not seem to be able to display the same dedication towards their jobs.

“Albert” With that simple word, the one that walked by his office stopped dead on his tracks. Robert’s smile intensified, because he knew that his employee’s heartbeat fastened. He asked without bothering to look at the door, keeping his cold gaze on his desk. “Can you remind me how long are your breaks, according to your contract?”

The PR agent gulped and then deviated his planned route, to acknowledge the call of his superior. His agitated expression and embarrassed tone only made Robert feel more satisfaction, always on the lookout for slackers.

“F-fifteen minutes, sir.”

Robert leaned his head and finally looked up, piercing the nervous man with his gaze. He then nodded at the big pervasive clock in his office, nudging his precious documents without losing his condescending smile.

“And how many have you spent away from your messy, sad cubicle? I believe I have counted… twenty.”

Albert took an instinctive step back. However, he corrected that reaction immediately, once he noticed the subtle yet important change in Robert’s expression. A few months ago, he would have said “I’m sorry, sir; I was dedicating some moments to our guests at the door, and they just kept talking”, or perhaps “I had to attend a long call with the investors”. He did not bother today.

“Twenty indeed.” He bowed his head and admitted guilt, knowing well that trying to excuse himself could be worse. The interns and the janitors were witnesses of it. “Worry not, I’ll make up for it.”

Robert smiled, this time more cordially. With a simple motion of hand, he allowed his subordinate to keep walking. But not without the usual laughed warning, of course.

“You’re lucky I can’t charge you the same interests I set on our customers, huh?”

Albert had no choice but to laugh too as he moved away, even if he did not find that comment as funny.

—————————————————-

 

The soft sound of the engine was the only thing that echoed, barely a hum. The stillness of the night would have allowed more than one to fall asleep, yet he did not allow himself to rest back on his seat and close his eyes. He could not waste a moment in which he could debate himself in silence.

Robert opened the limousine’s door by himself, not giving any time for his chauffeur to do it for him. As soon as the vehicle slowed down enough by his gate, he set foot on the pristine sidewalk. He did not bother to say goodbye to the man who drove him between his home and office each day, focusing on his march through his courtyard.

Tonight, he let himself do something unusual. With a sigh, he decided to spend a minute looking longingly at his Ferrari, forever forgotten by his garden. After glancing at his watch and the moon above, he walked closer and brushed his car in frustrated anger.

He wished he could drive to work, but he could never allow anybody else to park it in the busy streets near his business. A mere scratch caused by a filthy low-end car would cost him a good sum of money. It was a risk he would not take.

Sadly, there was no other convenient time for him to drive it. His dedication to his work was imperative, and so, his schedule never had a moment for him to drive without a destination and purpose.

He would not admit it, but he almost ran into his villa to grab the keys and set off in a small nocturnal escapade. The urge was drowned in his mind, however, because he remembered all the tasks he had planned for tomorrow. With a small pat on the hood of the car, he averted his gaze from his unusable treasure. Time was as precious as gold, and he could not waste it in anything that did not generate more wealth.

“Tomorrow is an important day.”

Like each one he lived before it.

————————————————

 

He had to be very selective. After all, he received uncountable requests of purchase and investment. Each of his decisions was always criticized and surveyed by the shareholders, even if he was efficient and reliable.

Again, with a small push, he made his way through the crowd that idled around him. He ignored coldly the men that tried to win his attention in the concurred corporate conference. After dealing with vendors, amateurs, pesky buyers, and bothersome middlemen, he knew that his best bet was to rip the nametag on his suit.  

He was well known, but his name was more recognizable than his stern face and unremarkable physique. It took a few turns behind some stalls and a signal to his two bodyguards, but he finally escaped the attention of mediocre hustlers.

He had better ways in which to waste time. At last, he was alone in an isolated and private room, where he managed to evade the noise of the crowds. He had already seen everything that was worthy of his attention, and his employees did not need his lead. There was only one thing he needed to supervise.  

“Frank.” As always, his chauffeur picked up the phone as soon as it ringed.  “Pick me up, now.”

Diligent and to the point, the reply through the speaker was confident and proactive.

“I’m parked, sir. You just have to go out and-“

Robert felt a small touch on his arm. When he leaned to look back, he was surprised to see Albert there, bold enough to interrupt his call, even if he did quietly.

“Give me a second, Frank. I’m getting out asap.” He hung up, containing a huff as he acknowledged Albert. “I assume you are interrupting me to remind me of the meeting.”

“Yes, sir. Accorded at half-past nine in the bar Aroa. However, Mr. Kim has called and-“

“Don’t tell me, that Chinese guy is going to be late again.” Robert put away his phone and turned away from Albert, ready to follow his schedule despite some setbacks. “It does not matter, I’ll wait. I need to suffer his alcoholism and horrendous accent to set a foot in the Asian market.”

Albert tried to correct him once more, even if he knew it was in vain.

“Sir, Kim is Vietnamese, not-“ Albert gasped, realizing that Robert ignored him, already on his way out of the building. “Robert, Mr. Kim will not be late! He has-”

The door of the limousine had been opened, and Robert was now seated inside. He raised his voice as Albert ran to him, incapable of noticing that he was trying to warn him between tired exhales.

“I’m your boss, do not call me by name.” Before closing the door loudly, he pointed a finger, shutting him up. “One syllable, short and to the point.”

Albert opened his mouth, but any babbling he could have let out was silenced by the rumbling of the limousine, which began to move off. It accelerated away in a hurry, leaving him alone on the sidewalk.

Robert settled back on his seat, happy to have secured some good assets in that bothersome convention. It was more than the rest of companies that attended could claim. His moment of respite was interrupted when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. A small growl escaped him once he took it out, because he saw that it was Albert who was calling. He did not think much of it and concluded that hanging up and adjusting his tie was better than listening to his incessant whining.

Albert had been bothering him all day, asking details about Kim’s company, hoping that he could perhaps arrange some kind of meeting between their departments next week. Little did the boy know that real business was often carried through less formally. Sometimes, it involved drinking, underhanded letters, or acts not fit for the public eye.

Robert had been dealing in such business for years, and he knew his way through those murky waters. It was time for him to catch another big fish…

——————————————–

 

Apparently, this night was not the best to fish for trade agreements. Robert had been completely unaware that Albert was trying to warn him about Kim cancelling their meeting at the bar.

“How could you not tell me that fat buffet lover would not show up?!” He did not like to hear the meek excuses that came through the speaker. “To hell with your missed calls! You can’t simply try to tell me half an hour before the agreed time!”

His chest puffed out even more, and then he shouted a few more words before he hung up fiercely.

“It does not matter if he cancelled with such short notice! I pay you to keep in touch with everyone I can’t keep an eye on! That is what you should do, make sure we know what runs through the minds of those damn…!”

He held back, remembering that the bar was a relatively public place. And so, he slammed his phone against the table, right by his glass of vodka. While he took deep breaths, he eyed the people that dwelled nearby.

There were not many men in the bar, thanks to the fact that the owner was selective with his clientele. Still, the image of the place was not all that great, because even if its patrons were more or less rich, they were not the most reputable people.

The guys in suits two tables away were smoking heavily, cackling as they handled their cards. They barely noticed his heated phone call. Apart from those scoundrels, there were only four more customers. There was a fat man by the counter, accompanied by two gold diggers, which he kept close with his huge arms. An old lady was sitting silently at the far corner, not apparently fit for the place at first glance until one noticed her fine clothing and sly gaze.

Robert looked down at his glass again. He soon raised it up to take a sip, yet he stopped when he realized he had not counted the number of patrons correctly. Normally, he surveyed his surroundings like a hawk, yet he had failed to note that there were seven individuals in the bar apart from him, not six.

Any other time, he would have sworn that the man in a grey suit and fedora was not sitting near his table before. However, after debating his remembrance, he concluded that he had always been there.

His clothes were very old-fashioned, elegant and fancy. His hat was tacky in the eyes of current stylists, and it did not help that there was a walking staff by him, even if he did not look old. He was very skinny, slightly pale. There was a half-opened suitcase by him, which’s contents could not be discerned. His moccasins seemed well worn out, but not ragged at all.

What irked him most was the fact that there was a huge smile on that face, which would prompt most drunkards into a raging fit. It was unfaltering, even if he was now looking back at him, returning his strong stare. That energetic smile was not reflected in those rather tired eyes, even if they shared the same intensity.  

Robert glared into the unblinking eyes of the man for three minutes, not knowing well if he was retarded, socially inept, or drunk. Perhaps he was trying to tell him something with his gaze, but he could not read it at all.

In other times, much humbler, he would have addressed his unappreciated admirer in an aggressive and uncultured manner. Tonight, he just adjusted his tie, grabbed his glass, and stood up calmly with a proud stance. He walked closer without hurry but sternly, and he was surprised by the fact that the man kept his stupid smile while he approached.

“The conference ended an hour ago.”

Robert grimaced in dislike when the guy replied with a cheerful nod, revealing his monotonous yet subtly spirited voice.

“That’s right.” The man pulled back his sleeve a little, to then tap three time his old watch. ”Time well spent, but not won.”

This guy was at the convention, those words confirmed it enough. And so, Robert looked at him in anger, leaning to hint disdain.

“You couldn’t get my attention then, and you won’t manage now either. Anything you thought you could sell by following me here, you may keep in that suitcase.”

That smile did not grow at all, but it looked like it did. The man also seemed to laugh, even if he did not.

“Follow you? Oh, god, no.” Robert lost his proud stance for a second, seeing that the man was unaware of who he was talking to. Worse, perhaps he knew but he did not care. “Why would I want to follow you? Whether here or there, one can see that you are not the kind of man that would hire my services.”

Robert coughed, suddenly uncomfortable due to a thought. The sultry women that stood by the bar only made him consider what those words could imply even more, the details scarce. Still, he discarded that assumption when he debated how the man was at the convention, because such thing would not be allowed there.

That clarity led him to a conclusion. The man was clearly suggesting that he couldn’t buy what he sold. Yet he could purchase anything, so he quickly assumed it had to be a service unworthy of his attention. Now, he had to make it very clear to this guy that he was below him.

“No, I sell something that grants more security, more precious and scarcer. Still, it is true that there were no transactions today.” The man had not asked for any drinks, and yet he seemed to be at home, not once needing to acknowledge the owner. “No one could meet the high rates required. No one can do so here either.”

Like a fish lured to a hook, Robert was now intrigued. The man never changed his posture or expression, not even when he sat down in front of him. He inquired with a lean, his tone quite impatient.

“You must have some sort of client, or you wouldn’t be in this bar without asking for anything. They only sell alcohol here, meant for the ones that want to bask in their damn status. What do you sell?”

At last, the man stopped staring at him. His eyes were concealed under the shadow of his hat, while he rested his grey hands on his briefcase.

“Something that many have, but which they spend far too much to be relished. It is something you must not need, considering you are here. Perhaps you may not even believe you can acquire it.”

Robert growled, seeing the man stand and begin to walk away with his suitcase and staff in hand. He could not let him do that without answers. And so, he insisted in a much less composed manner, sure that he was only being mocked.

“Do not dare take another step, you third-rate peddler.” The man stopped, and anyone apart from Robert would have felt a shiver run down their backs when he leaned subtly to look back. Those eyes and smile peeked under the shadow of his hat, uncannily. Sadly, Robert was too focused on his pride. “Open your briefcase. I want to see your merchandise.”

“My apologies, but you won’t see my product in here.” Still, he did open the suitcase, which was ludicrously empty. “It’s not something you can observe.”

Robert raised a fist, but the man spoke again before insults could be voiced.

“I’m not trying to imply you can’t buy it. You simply can’t grasp it with your hands.” The man glanced cautiously at his old watch, and then he directed his smile at Robert, once more. “You must witness it. So, allow me to offer a sample of my service, if you please. Then you may value and determine if you really wish to attain your loan. Do keep in mind that few agree to this contract. Time must be invested wisely; this is my service.”

Robert waited in bafflement, and the man kept smiling. After a minute, he simply tipped his hat and said goodbye.

“Enjoy the night, Robert.”

That was all he said, not a single word more.

“What in the-“ The man went out the door and left the bar, without showing him anything or hinting he would. He would have chased after him, but he had determined that drugs had to be involved in his strange demeanour. “Ok, go and stuff your damn suitcase in…”

Robert stopped himself again from saying too many vulgarities. He glanced at the waiter, looking for others that shared his bafflement.

“Aren’t you going to charge that guy for lazing about?”

The waiter blinked, perplexed.

“Charge him?” The owner shook his head and shrugged. “He has only spent a couple of minutes in here. I can’t charge him for idling a bit, even if he has not ordered any drinks.”

“T-two… What? No, he was already here when I-“

He stopped. His phone was ringing. When he took it and answered, his expression twisted from confused to frightened. It was a gradual change, caused by every word he heard.

“Boss, I’m calling to tell you that Mr. Kim won’t be able to be at the bar at half-past nine. In fact, he will not go at all. I know I’m only calling you thirty minutes in advance, and that you went there early, but-“

He stopped listening. All ever slowly, he moved his arm to reveal his watch under his sleeve. As intensely as that man had looked at him, he stared at the hour displayed: nine o’clock.