I awoke at 4:55 am. Five minutes before my alarm would go off. I felt calm even though the day would be one of the most stressful of the year. It was April first, review day. It was the day I and my colleagues at the Ancoli Accounting firm would notify our clients of the many creative ways we had come up with to save them money on their taxes.
For the nouveau riche among them, the day felt like a financial colonoscopy. The day they realized that a group of complete strangers examined all of their finances with a fine tooth comb and dispassionately ripped apart every detail until a narrative formed that could be shared with the IRS, the federal leeches who wanted nothing but to separate them from their new gains.
The other group of clients, the ones who were accustomed to having money, welcomed the day and to them it wasn’t a financial invasion of privacy. It was their time to stick it to the man. Earned $10 billion this year? Ok, that’s great, but what’s even better is earning ten billion and keeping all or nearly all of it. Taxes are for the little guy to pay. If you are generating wealth for the masses, keeping your own ought to be your reward, or so goes the thinking.
So I began the day, a vigorous workout, it so happened that it was leg day, my least favorite, but unless you desire to look like a misshapen fool, you need to keep your body in good proportion. I don’t hate working my legs, but it is the one part of my body where I prefer the results over the process. After forty minutes of squats, leg presses, stretches, rows, and running, I was drenched in sweat, so I left the garage and headed for the shower.
As I headed down the hall toward the bathroom, the sound of a telegraph filled the air. I grabbed my phone to see what caused the notification. It was a response from my brother Jason in the No Trace app. His message read: “I am reviewing the information you sent me now. I’ll let you know what I find.” I shot Jason a quick reply and then headed to the shower.
After my shower, it was time to feed my soul a little, so being in a romantic mood, I sat down to read “Sonnets from the Portuguese.” It is a favorite of Ashley’s; she loaned it to me for my morning reading. I poured through the whole thing and jotted down some ideas for what I would say this evening. I lost track of time, so I wouldn’t do any personal learning today, but there is always tomorrow. The small break from routine on this day of days I could live with.
I put on my best suit a tailored gray three piece suit. It was a gift I bought myself when I became a partner at the firm. Though I was the youngest partner, I wanted to look every bit as good as the older partners. While I cannot yet afford a closet full of such fine clothing, I could make do with my one amazing suit of armor.
I put on a three hundred dollar Thomas Pink dress shirt with a French cuff and a burgundy tie tied in a trinity knot. I finished the look with a pair of Beckett Simonon Brent Oxford wingtips. They were black and shined so well they might as well be mirrors. I grabbed my briefcase and shuffled out of the door at 6:45 am. I would still have plenty of time to grab my coffee and read a little before I arrived at the office.
The sunrise was beautiful, apparently, but I missed it. The crisp morning air filled my lungs as I stepped out of the house. I could smell the jasmine in the air, and that’s when I realized I had forgotten the ring. I hurried back into the house, found the two-leaved box from Harry Winston, and placed it in my briefcase. Oh, tonight will be such a night!
I decided to walk to Starbucks. I don’t want to let the day’s joy get away from me. Yes, the workday will be a challenge, but throughout the day, and especially at the end, I have Ash. If I am not too presumptuous, I’ll also have her for a long time after that.
I arrived at Starbucks, and there was a line. I considered just going into the office. On April 1st, every year, the firm puts out a spread for all three meals, but I really want to make this day special, so I have to get Ashley’s Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte and a blueberry muffin. She needs to know that even on a day like that she is my priority. God I love that woman.
As I waited I took a few moments to look around. There were some regulars, a few whose names I knew and of course some new faces. A few people behind me was Silent Man, I think his real name was Niles or something. I met him few months back. He doesn’t say much, he just stares at people with those piercing eyes. It creeped me out back then, I think that’s why I never really committed his real name to memory.
When I looked back this time, Silent Man made an odd movement, like he was trying, and failing, mind you, to avoid being seen by me. Weird. It was finally time to order, and I placed my order: the Skinny Cinnamon Dolce for Ash and a Black Coffee for me with an apple. I moved to the side to wait for my order.
I slipped my AirPods into my ears and listened to my Yo-Yo Ma Essentials playlist, concentration fuel. It really does let me focus my mind on the task at hand. I ran the plan for the evening through my head. My last client presentation should be completed at four pm. After that, I would take Ash to Valentino to buy whatever outfit and accessories she wanted. I am not usually a big spender; I am an accountant, so I guess being cheap is an occupational hazard. Tonight, I want Ash to feel like a princess. I want, no, I need her to know that as far as I am concerned, it is me and her against the world. There is nothing I wouldn’t do or spend for her.
She’s no gold digger, but she does like having nice things every now and then. She will probably be mortified when she sees the price of the outfit we buy, but I don’t care if she wants it I am buying it. As I grabbed my order, the sound of a telegraph played in my ears once more as another message came in through the No Trace app. It was Jason, and his message sent a chill down my spine. The message read: “This is explosive. Get out of dodge.”
I read the message in stunned silence and watched as it was automatically deleted five seconds later. I looked up as I contemplated my next steps. My eye caught the Silent Man again looking at me. He seemed to be tracking my every move. I hurried out of the coffee shop and hopped in a cab.
I could walk, but I wanted to distance myself from the Silent Man Niles or whatever his name was. We arrived at the Library Tower, the home of the Ancoli Firm. I swiped my way through security and headed for the elevator. I stood at the back and observed everyone as they filled in.
There were nine other passengers in all. The last to enter was the Silent Man. I am officially creeped out! I kept watch of each person. There was only one other person I recognized: Chatty Jimmy. He was unusually quiet this morning, but I found myself grateful. I’d rather not talk while being watched by the quiet man in the cheap suit and contemplating Jason’s message. This is explosive. Get out of dodge.
As the elevator slowly crawled the height of the library tower on the way to the top, two people exited on five, one on ten, and two each on 13, 14, and 15. Finally, Chatty Jimmy limped off on 57, and my mysterious stalker exited on 67.
Safe for the moment, I arrived on the 70th floor and made a beeline for my office. I moved past Tricia, the receptionist. Ugh, I loathe that woman. She can’t take no for an answer. She seems to think that sleeping her way through every man at the firm is both an accomplishment and a trait that makes her irresistible. I have less than zero interest despite the fact that she is attractive. I generally keep my distance, but I normally greet her; otherwise, she makes it a point to stop by. I don’t want to see her on a normal day. I damn sure don’t want to see her today.
I arrived in my office, and nearly missed Ken Phillips waiting in one of the chairs in front of my desk. Ken is not an even-keeled man. On presentation day he could especially be relied on to be high-strung.
“Here to check on the Manlow’s package Ken?” I asked. There was no doubt that was why he was here. They are technically his client, but he manages the relationship. The real accounting work is not done by our managing partner, but with them being the richest couple in the world, they would get an excess of attention from Ken.
I could see Ken about to get unhinged, so I spoke up again before he had the chance. “I received the approved packet from PSG yesterday. I should have it ready for you.” I trailed off. The completed packet was already in the file. Ash must have finished it. I removed the file and handed it to Ken. By that point, I was invisible. He was pouring through the details and left my office without a word, although he nearly walked into the doorpost on his way out.
The Collected Works of D. Alex Rhue 