thoughts of lesser people, he would force them to respect him. Actions spoke louder than looks.
Green Eggs was his ticket out. As he strode along the sidewalk, looking up at the towering buildings on either side of him, Michael felt the headiness of it. A week ago he was driving around trying to hawk tiny print runs of his books to libraries. Now, suddenly, it was the big time.
8z
I could have had it before now, though, Michael thought. If I had sold out. He congratulated himself. What a fucking awesome buzz this was. He had held on to his baby company, had refused to take a salary. Now he was actually in partnership with Ernie Foxton. Independent control and mainstream money. It was a dream, and it was his.
The Blakely’s building loomed up ahead of him. Michael stopped dead, leaving the businesswomen in their tight suits and the workmen clutching their Styrofoam cups of coffee to push forward round him, waving down the yellow cabs that crawled along the semi gridlocked roads or diving into the.subway stations.. He looked upwards. The tower was magnificent, covered in opulent black polished granite. It glinted in the morning sunlight, sparkling like marble in some Venetian palazzo. The nam of the firm was etched on a large brass plate in royal-blue lettering. Michael noticed that Green Eggs had not yet been added to the list of companies housed there. He’d have to remedy that.
The thought gave him an electrifying thrill. Revolving doors made of solid dark glass provided an entrance to the lobby. He could see his reflection in them. The young man facing him was heavyset, in a smart suit, with an intense look of concentration on his face. Michael resisted an impulse to wink at himself. He grinned, and pushed into the lobby. Time to get to work.
Ernie was looking out of his window as Michael Cicero arrived, but he didn’t see him walk in off the street. He was staring out at the billboards for the movies and DKNY jeans balancing amid the concrete forest of midtown, but he did not see them either. Small red lights blinked in and out of focus on his telephone bank as Marcia dealt with them. Right now he was distracted. He was talking to Mira Chen.
83
‘You like the job then… ?’ he asked nervously, fiddling with the tie on his thousand-dollar Armani jacket. The costly clothes never seemed to hang quite right on Ernie, not that he gave a luck. He dressed in the most expensive suits and shirts of the season. Top of the range, whatever it happened to look like. Ernie thought this gave him a sophisticated air.
‘You like the job then, what?’ Mira demanded, in a low hiss.
‘I mean.., you like the job then… Miss Chen,’ Ernie half whispered. He didn’t dare to call her Mistress on an open phone line, even though Mira was now his employee. He imagined her tiny, boyish body, her long legs tapering down to pointed, cruel stilettos. Mira was the first time he had cheated on Diana. Ooh, she knew how to treat a naughty boy like he deserved, Ernie thought. He had the first stirrings of an impressive hard
on.
‘It’s barely adequate. I need more money and a bigger office.’
;It’s the best I can do for now … Miss Chen,’ Ernie whimpered.
‘It’s not good enough. You need to be punished for even thinking I would accept this,’ Mira snapped, hanging up on him.
Ernie gave himself a second to contemplate what tonight’s punishment might be. It was a delicious picture.
His buzzer sounded, snapping-him out of it. Ernie felt his hard-on wither and die.
‘Yeah, what is it?’ he barked at Marcia.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ his assistant said, nervously. ‘I saw you were done with Miss Chen … you asked me to let you know when Michael Cicero got into the office.’
Ernie switched his focus. He felt a surge of adrenaline. The fly had finally crawled into the web.
‘Reception said he just signed in, Mr Foxton.’
84
‘Excellent. I’m going to take a little orientation
Green Eggs was his ticket out. As he strode along the sidewalk, looking up at the towering buildings on either side of him, Michael felt the headiness of it. A week ago he was driving around trying to hawk tiny print runs of his books to libraries. Now, suddenly, it was the big time.
8z
I could have had it before now, though, Michael thought. If I had sold out. He congratulated himself. What a fucking awesome buzz this was. He had held on to his baby company, had refused to take a salary. Now he was actually in partnership with Ernie Foxton. Independent control and mainstream money. It was a dream, and it was his.
The Blakely’s building loomed up ahead of him. Michael stopped dead, leaving the businesswomen in their tight suits and the workmen clutching their Styrofoam cups of coffee to push forward round him, waving down the yellow cabs that crawled along the semi gridlocked roads or diving into the.subway stations.. He looked upwards. The tower was magnificent, covered in opulent black polished granite. It glinted in the morning sunlight, sparkling like marble in some Venetian palazzo. The nam of the firm was etched on a large brass plate in royal-blue lettering. Michael noticed that Green Eggs had not yet been added to the list of companies housed there. He’d have to remedy that.
The thought gave him an electrifying thrill. Revolving doors made of solid dark glass provided an entrance to the lobby. He could see his reflection in them. The young man facing him was heavyset, in a smart suit, with an intense look of concentration on his face. Michael resisted an impulse to wink at himself. He grinned, and pushed into the lobby. Time to get to work.
Ernie was looking out of his window as Michael Cicero arrived, but he didn’t see him walk in off the street. He was staring out at the billboards for the movies and DKNY jeans balancing amid the concrete forest of midtown, but he did not see them either. Small red lights blinked in and out of focus on his telephone bank as Marcia dealt with them. Right now he was distracted. He was talking to Mira Chen.
83
‘You like the job then… ?’ he asked nervously, fiddling with the tie on his thousand-dollar Armani jacket. The costly clothes never seemed to hang quite right on Ernie, not that he gave a luck. He dressed in the most expensive suits and shirts of the season. Top of the range, whatever it happened to look like. Ernie thought this gave him a sophisticated air.
‘You like the job then, what?’ Mira demanded, in a low hiss.
‘I mean.., you like the job then… Miss Chen,’ Ernie half whispered. He didn’t dare to call her Mistress on an open phone line, even though Mira was now his employee. He imagined her tiny, boyish body, her long legs tapering down to pointed, cruel stilettos. Mira was the first time he had cheated on Diana. Ooh, she knew how to treat a naughty boy like he deserved, Ernie thought. He had the first stirrings of an impressive hard
on.
‘It’s barely adequate. I need more money and a bigger office.’
;It’s the best I can do for now … Miss Chen,’ Ernie whimpered.
‘It’s not good enough. You need to be punished for even thinking I would accept this,’ Mira snapped, hanging up on him.
Ernie gave himself a second to contemplate what tonight’s punishment might be. It was a delicious picture.
His buzzer sounded, snapping-him out of it. Ernie felt his hard-on wither and die.
‘Yeah, what is it?’ he barked at Marcia.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ his assistant said, nervously. ‘I saw you were done with Miss Chen … you asked me to let you know when Michael Cicero got into the office.’
Ernie switched his focus. He felt a surge of adrenaline. The fly had finally crawled into the web.
‘Reception said he just signed in, Mr Foxton.’
84
‘Excellent. I’m going to take a little orientation
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