New
York, 2025
Whatever you do, don’t make an ass
out of yourself. And don’t barf on the man…dear God, don’t barf on the man. Shifting
in the waiting room chair, Jesse adjusted the knot on his tie. His gaze moved
up the wall to the many framed magazine covers, all of Cole Pearson—the man of
the decade.
Pearson
came out of nowhere, taking over old or failing businesses and making their
products or services the most wanted in America. He was the man with the golden
touch, thirty-five and already a billionaire. Everyone wanted to be him, and
everyone who wanted to make something of themselves wanted to work for him. The
competition was steep, the best of the best vying for positions, but not only
that, Cole Pearson did all the interviews for the executive positions himself.
Choosing those he believed would best fit his vision of where he wanted to take
his company.
“Jesse
Miller?”
Jesse
started.
A
young blonde woman stood at the edge of the waiting room. “Mr. Pearson will see
you now.”
“Right.
Yes.”
“If
you will follow me, please.” She led him to a door. Stepping aside, she motioned
for him to enter.
Jesse
strode in the doorway. He stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping. The
office was massive, art and sculptures adorning every wall and corner. “Holy
shit,” he whispered.
“Not
the best first impression, I will admit, but the most unique one so far, I must
say.”
Jesse’s
breath caught in his throat. “Mr. Pearson, I can’t tell you what an honor it is
to meet you, sir. Even if I did just make an ass out of myself.” He froze. “I
don’t believe I just told you I made an ass out of myself. And I just did it
again.” He waved a finger toward the door. “Should I leave now, before I make
more of an ass…?” He closed his eyes. “Let me start again. I would consider it
an honor to have an opportunity to work for someone like you. You’ve
accomplished so much. Hell, I’m almost the same age as you, and I can’t say
I’ve managed to…” He backed toward the door. “Maybe it’s best I leave, before I
make it any worse.”
Pearson
remained with his high-backed chair facing the view. “Stay. It’s refreshing to
hear some honesty, for a change. I can’t tell you how tired I am of people
feeding me bullshit all day. And believe me, I can tell a bullshiter a mile
away. So, tell me, Mr. Miller, what can you give me that no one else can?”
“Oh
God.”
“God
isn’t something I need.”
Jesse
laughed, but then cleared his throat. “I’m thirty, and I feel that gives me a
distinct advantage over the younger candidates.”
“How
so?”
“I
have more life experience.”
“And
what have you done with that life experience? What successes can you share with
me?”
Once
again, Jesse adjusted the knot in his tie. “I’ve researched every business
you’ve taken over. How you restructured it inside and out. How you brought in
the perfect people for the positions, researched suppliers, increased output,
and for a fraction of the cost. How you rewired ad campaigns to reach the
public, and made them believe they had to have what you were selling, whether
they needed it or not.”
“And
how exactly does that help me?”
“I
see how you think. I know how you work.”
“Do
you?” Pearson swiveled his chair to face Jesse.
Jesse stared. Instead of Cole Pearson sitting before
him, it was Edward Starke
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