Page 2 of Finding Parker

I blinked my eyes and looked up from the floor.

Somewhat fascinated, I watched as an extremely attractive thirty-something year old brunette dressed in a dark navy skirt and fitted blazer walked down the hallway until she stood directly in front of me. As she stopped walking, she smiled. I promptly stood and returned the smile. Her dark framed glasses were a superb addition to an otherwise perfect face.

“Parker Bale?” she asked as she raised her eyebrows in what was more than likely false wonder.

“Yes ma’am. I am Parker Bale,” I responded as I nodded my head sharply and extended my hand.

She glanced down at my hand and blinked her eyes, “Call me Lisa. Mr. Astur and Mr. Ward are waiting. Follow me if you will.”

Gracefully, she turned and began walking down the corridor. As the sound of her heels echoed down the hallway, I followed. Her walk was interesting to say the very least. Each step was as if it were predetermined. It did not appear she was walking by choice; it seemed the tile floor was sucking her feet into the exact location they needed to fall into, allowing her to complete perceived walking perfection. I alternated glances between her feet and the hallway in front of us until she stopped.

“Gentlemen, Parker Bale,” she smiled as she motioned toward the open door on her left.

I stepped in front of Lisa and into the doorway. Two men, one approximately mid-sixties in age, and one I suspected in his early-forties stood from their respective seats and smiled. The elder of the two was dressed in a business suit and tie. The younger wore jeans and a V-neck T-shirt. As they stood, I walked around the corner of the large table and extended my hand.

“I’m Kenton Ward. My pleasure Mr. Bale,” the younger gentlemen said as he shook my hand and smiled.

I turned to face the elder of the two and held my hand in front of my waist as I made eye contact with him. With his lips pursed, he studied my eyes. The few seconds that passed seemed like moments as I waited for his hand to reach mine. The gold specs in his green eyes provided him a certain peculiar presence. As his hand gripped mine, he smiled.

“Hec Astur,” he lowered his chin as he spoke.

Heck Ahhhsture. The manner in which the name rolled from his tongue gave him a greater degree of intrigue. As he released my hand he pointed to a chair positioned on the other side of the table.

“Please, have a seat,” he said as he motioned to the chair.

“Thank you, Lisa. Close the door if you will,” he nodded his head slightly toward the door.

I heard the door close softly as I lowered myself into the ergonomically engineered mesh office chair. As I rested my forearms onto the arms of the chair, I slowly inched closer to the table. Mr. Ward studied me as he lowered himself into his seat and cleared his throat.

“Would you like a beverage? We expect this may take half of an hour,” Mr. Astur asked.

“Water if you have it,” I responded as I struggled to position my chair the perfect distance from the edge of the table.

“Bottle or glass?” he raised his chin as he asked.

“Bottle please,” I responded.

Mr. Astur turned toward Mr. Ward, smirked, and walked to the rear of the large room. As Mr. Astur walked away, Mr. Ward glanced in my direction and smiled while he rubbed his hands together.

“Mr. Bale,” Mr. Astur said as he handed me the bottle of water.

Nervously, I held the cold bottle of water in my hands as Mr. Astur walked to the other side of the table and remained standing.

“I represent Mr. Ward from a legal standpoint. I have drafted a contract for the employee which will bind him to the conditions of said contract with Mr. Ward, the employer. In a moment, Mr. Ward will go over his intent regarding employment, but remember,” he hesitated as he slid a half inch thick pile of paper across the table.

“The contract governs,” he blinked his green eyes and sat down.

“Mr. Ward,” Mr. Astur said as he straightened the pile of papers in front of him.

“I’ll keep this informal. As you have probably wondered regarding your requested attire for this meeting, I wanted you to be comfortable. Are you comfortable, Mr. Bale?” Mr. Ward spoke slowly, clearly, concisely and properly pronounced every syllable in each prospective word.

“Quite,” I nodded as I removed the lid from my bottle of water.

Upon sending my initial email in response to the advertisement, I was advised to wear whatever you’d be comfortable wearing to meet a woman for a cup of coffee at the Barnes and Noble in the Gas Lamp district to my job interview. An address and a meeting time were provided. Sitting here now, dressed in Khaki’s, a wrinkle-free dress T-shirt, and light blue Sperry’s, I felt uncomfortable in the presence of these two men who peered over the table as I took a drink from my unbelievably cold bottle of water.

I smiled as I placed the bottle of water between my legs and slowly screwed the lid onto the top.

“Mr. Bale,” Mr. Ward paused and clasped his hands together slowly.