Damon set the box down onto a desk as he wiped the accumulating sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve. He brushed his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes as he took a deep breath from the exertion. He looked around the unfinished office. The height adjustable desks lined the windowed wall, while the ergonomic chairs sat around from his long night of assembling. He dusted his hands when a voice perked up from behind him followed by a knock on the door.
“Excuse me?” a young woman said as she entered, gripping a file folder in her arms. Her medium blond hair was up in a high pony tail and her well worn clothes clung to her fit form.
“Yes?” he answered her.
“I’m here about painting a mural? Are you Damon Cross?” she asked, her light blue eyes lighting up as she looked him up and down. She brushed loose strands of hair from her face and adjusted the shoulder bag slung across her body.
“Yes,” he said, extending his hand to shake hers. “Please come in. Were you able to review the design ideas for the project?
“I did,” she said as she shook his hand. She slid hers from his, as if she yearned to touch every part of his hand. “The only real factor for which one to use would be the location.”
“Ah, I wanted to use this wall,” he said, taking several steps away from her and crossing his arms. He gestured to the wall across from the windows that also sat between the entrance to the main office and the door to his private office. “Which do you think would work best?”
“Well,” she shuffled through the photos, but her grip on the file folder slipped and a flurry of papers drifted to the floor. “Oh, how stupid of me!”
Damon crouched down to help gather up the mess, avoiding the pointed looks she gave him, and placed his stack on one of the packaged desks. “There. No harm done I hope.”
“No… it’s fine,” she said, her voice cut with disappointment. She straightened the stack and put everything back in the file folder. Pulling out the pictures, she leaned into him as she fanned them out. “I think this one will work best. The design is not too busy for this size wall and the colors will pop with the sunlight.”
“That sounds like a great plan,” he said, placing his hands on his hips and straightening up. “When can you start?”
“I need to confirm the paint swatches with you before purchase. Then I can get started as soon as tomorrow if you wish,” she said, digging out a color wheel from her bag.
After deciding on the colors, Damon took another look at the proposed wall. “As for the paint, I don’t want it too shiny, but not matte either. I’m thinking of an eggshell or satin finish.”
“Eggshell would be best, since it’ll bring out more texture from the wall,” she said, standing close to him in his observation. “Half payment now, for materials, and the rest upon finishing.”
“Agreed,” he stated, taking a few steps away from her and back towards the desks.
She shifted through the file folder again and pulled out two official looking documents. Stepping close to Damon again, she looked up at him with a sweet smile while handing them to him. “Feel free to review the contract before signing.”
“Of course,” he said, taking both copies from her and fleeing to another desk to look through them. “It all seems in order,” he said, handing the signed documents back to her. She signed both as well and handed one back to him for his records.
“Will you be here while I work tomorrow? We could grab lunch?” she said, sliding the contract into her file folder while batting her eyes at him.
“I’m afraid I’ll be out of the office,” he said, in a rush. “My assistant will be here to let you in at the specified time.”
“Oh, so you’ll be busy during the day? We can grab dinner instead,” she said, swaying over to close the distance again.
“I don’t think that would be professional,” Damon said, trying to think of a way out.
“Well, after I finish this project, there would be no need to maintain a professional relationship,” she said, tilting her head and eying him up.
Just then the door opened and a shorter, rounded hipped woman walked in. She flipped her long wavy, black hair off of her shoulder. “Damon, honey, the frame shop is going to be late in delivering the art pieces. They said delivery by the end of next week, instead of tomorrow.”
Seeing his salvation, he raced to her. “Sophia! Looking as radiant as ever,” he said with a smile.
She lifted one eyebrow and examined him with her big brown eyes through large vibrant glasses. Then she spotted the young woman looking as if she swallowed a lemon. “Oh, Damon, sweety! I didn’t know you were in a meeting.” She touched his arm possessively, making sure to flash her long nails.
“Oh, we were talking about the mural for the office,” he said, touching her shoulder. “Here’s the contract. Could you cut a check for the first payment for her?”
“Right away,” Sophia said as she set down her briefcase and pulled out a checkbook.
“She will be here tomorrow to start. Will you be a dear and let her in?”
“Oh! Of course! It’ll be girl time tomorrow,” Sophia said with fake enthusiasm as she handed over the check.
“I… prefer to work alone,” the painter stuttered, taking the payment. “You know… people watching me paint is a bit nerve wracking.”
“Well, if that’s the case,” began Sophia. “I’ll let you in and check on you throughout the day. Okay, babes?”
“That’s great!” she said forcefully. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” She scurried out of the office in record time.
“I could kiss you!” Damon said.
“You’re gonna have to start dishing out hazard pay for scaring off all your little girlfriends, honey bunches,” Sophia said, wagging her finger at him.
“With those talons, I doubt you’ll have a hard time winning.”
“You’re not cute enough to break my nails for,” she said with a stern look. “Anyways, about the art…?”
“It’s fine,” he said with a sigh of relief. “We don’t need art on the walls to get started.”
“But you do need a tech guy,” she said. “When are your buddies coming?”
“They should be here Friday to set up,” he said, looking around the office to see how to layout the desks. “That’s when the servers are being delivered. Can’t start till then.”
“I know you’ve been running this business out of your garage for the past few years, but you need to get your head in the game.” Sophia stood in front of him to get his attention. “This is the big leagues now. You’re supposed to start a major project next week and the computers aren’t even going to be set up till the weekend before?”
“It is cutting it a bit close, but I prefer to wait for people I trust to do a good job than have it done fast and have problems,” Damon said.
Sophia groaned. “Well, it’s for the best with how crazy you get when you start over-thinking things.”
“I’ve gotten better,” Damon defended.
“Right,” Sophia said with a glint in her eyes. “Remind me when the Car Dealership flier fiasco happened? You know, the one where you over ordered because you got it stuck in your head that the print company got the wrong file, so you ordered more?”
“We… don’t need to get into the details,” Damon said.
“You over-think things and then react without making sure it’s the right step,” Sophie said. “So when the servers are being installed, make sure you are supervising everything and checking it out before Monday starts. I don’t want to hear about not starting work because you were obsessing all weekend.”
“Right, right,” Damon said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I will double check everything before we leave for the weekend.”
“Also, you’ve been doing well enough using word of mouth or referrals for projects, but starting a whole office is going to require more clients,” she said. “You’ll need to invest in some proper advertisement and social media hype, sweetness.”
“Social media? Are you serious?” he said, dumbfounded.
“It’s all about that algorithm, baby,” she said, snapping at him. “I’ll look into some companies, so give it some thought, yeah?”
“If you say so,” he said, ruffling his hair.
“Mmhmm.” She eyed him, unconvinced before she turned and strutted out through the door.
Damon collapsed onto one of the newly built chairs with a huff. He never thought creating his own Graphic Design company would work out, let alone allow him to open an office in the city. He started it while in design school as a hobby, but as his client base grew, so did his business. He recruited some talented people from his college to help him keep up with the work load while he finished his last year of school. They worked so well, he hired them on a part time basis till they also finished their degrees. Now that all three have graduated, he decided to open up a permanent office space. This allowed them to collaborate more efficiently rather than everyone working from home.
Damon’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling up the screen, he hesitated when the name popped up. He stared at the glowing display, for a few rings before hitting the answer button.
“Hey, dad,” he said, his voice strained. “What’s up?”
“Hey Damon,” his father answered. “I just wanted to give you a call to see how the new business is coming.”
“It’s still in the setup process right now,” Damon answered, knowing where this conversation was going. It was also the reason he never told his dad about his budding business when he started it three years ago while still in school. “I just had the desks and chairs delivered.”
“That’s great, great,” his father said. “So, listen…”
Damon took a deep breath and resolved himself.
“There’s this guy making new investments into a High Yield program that can double my money in a year,” he said with excitement.
“That’s great Dad,” Damon said with forced enthusiasm. “Let me know how that goes for you.”
“Well…the thing is…” His dad hesitated. “My capital is not in a state where I can liquidate it to use right now.”
Damon groaned. Meaning he’s broke and he wants money.
“You know how investments work,” his dad continued. “You can’t just pull money from one place to another, now can you?”
“So, what are you asking?” Damon said, his voice tired.
“You know with you having the capital to start your business so soon after graduating, I’m sure you’re able to help out your old man this time around?”
“Dad…” This song and dance had long since become exhausting. “I’m afraid I used most of my starting loan to pay for equipment, furniture and rent.”
“I’m sure you still have some left,” he said, getting agitated. “You’re not stupid enough to spend every dime before you have prospects of this venture becoming lucrative, right?”
“The stipulations of the loan were pretty strict in the sense that it had to go into the business, so I had no choice but to ‘spend every dime’.” The lie slid off his tongue more easily than it used to. It took Damon years to learn how to dissuade his father from taking every penny and blowing it on ‘get rich quick schemes’ that never panned out. He realized his father’s ineptitude when he lost their house when Damon was 16 years old due to non-payment of the mortgage.
“Well, you should have read the fine print in the loan document and made a better deal,” his father scolded.
“I’ll do better next time Dad,” Damon said, trying to sound defeated, but internally screaming. “Let me know how things work out. Talk to you later.”
He hung up before his dad had the chance to attempt to grease his wheels with unrealistic promises. This wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time his dad will try to extort money out of him. Since he was a child, their lives were an unbalanced mess. They were either digging through the cabinet for the last box of spaghetti or eating at fancy restaurants to impress his father’s friends. Anytime his father made a dollar, he blew it to promote himself as a successful man. Damon originally thought that his father was unlucky and that he was admirable for continuing to try. But after they lost the house and had to move in with his grandfather, he understood the depth of his father’s selfishness.
Coming from a wealthy family, his father never took the lessons of his relatives to heart. He preferred to blow every dollar he had to support an unsustainable lifestyle. Damon’s mother left soon after realizing that most of the money she married into was gone. His grandfather took them in after they lost the house, mostly due to his declining health and the need for care. Damon’s father went right to work to ingratiate himself to get a bigger cut of the inheritance. He went so far as to get Damon to lie and help manipulate the poor sick man. Though afraid it would put them onto the street, he acknowledged the entire plan to his grandfather. He couldn’t cheat someone so kind and genuine. His grandfather smiled and thanked him, allowing them both to stay regardless of the ruse.
After his death, Damon’s father found that his cut was mere pennies compared to the bulk of the fortune. According to the will, most of the fortune was set aside for charities, but Damon was an inheritor of a trust fund in an undisclosed part of the will. With his father back to his old tricks of manipulation, going from one person to another, Damon left for college. Not wanting to draw suspicion, he rented a cheap apartment and worked part time while saying that he lived on grants and school loans. The truth was that Damon had enough from the inheritance to pay for school and living expenses. Deciding to finally live for himself after getting a degree in business, he decided to go to graphic design school.
One day, while still in school, a professor approached him to enter a graphic design contest to create a new logo for a local company. He ended up winning and received a monetary prize, which was payment for use of the logo. Upon hearing that Damon won money, his father crawled out of whatever gutter he was living in to play the proud parent. His father took the check, saying that it would go to school expenses. The truth was that he spent it on past due bills and a drinking binge. Despite that, businesses approached Damon for more designs and the rest, as they say, was history.
Hiding his business became difficult as the years passed, but Damon was able to keep the bulk of its worth away from his father. Claiming that loan payments and living expenses kept him on a tight budget helped keep his father from milking him dry. He knew he would have to cut his father out of his life, but the thought of being alone in the world was too daunting to face yet.
Another knock on the door pulled Damon out of his reverie. He jumped up from the chair to find that the computers, monitors and drawing boards had arrived. “Whelp, time to get to work,” he said to himself as he rolled up his sleeves
