Free Parker 05 - The Darkness by Jason Pinter Page A

job
    on the street? And Morgan didn't like to wait. In his
    previous job, people waited for him. He shared a secretary, a cute piece of ass named Charlotte he could have
    had at any moment. Sometimes he would send her out for
    coffee just because he could. When she came back, he
    wouldn't even thank her, just go into his office, pour the
    cup into the bottom of his fake plant, and pull out a can
    of Red Bull.
    But this guy was late. Just a few short months ago,
    Morgan wouldn't wait for anybody. Some asshole wanted
    him to wait five minutes? Screw you, let's reschedule.
    Now, Morgan didn't know when he'd even find work
    again. And with bills piling up he needed to earn scratch
    no matter what the cost. So if he had to suck up his pride
    for a little while, so be it. A necessary evil. And whoever
    this jack-off was who had him wait, well, if the company
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    Jason Pinter
    was good enough, Morgan would be running it within a
    few years anyway. Then he'd be the one making people
    late.
    He felt a sense of anger rise within him as he
    watched hundreds of people walking down the streets,
    oblivious to him, unknowing and uncaring of what he'd
    been through. Men, women, dressed in natty suits with
    the finest accoutrements, they had no idea that in the
    time it took to snap your fingers they could be out of
    a job just like him. They had no right to be so confident, so careless, while Morgan stood there, his immediate future resting in the hands of a recommendation
    of Ken Tsang and the charity of some guy he'd never
    met before.
    In the cab ride over--he would have preferred the bus
    to save money, but Chester didn't give him a whole lot
    of time--Morgan wondered whether or not he'd take the
    position if one was offered. Then he chided himself. Now
    was not the time to be prideful. The bills would continue
    to come, the debt would continue to mount. Even a modest income would provide a stint for the bleeding, and at
    least he would have health care. Time to suck it up for a
    few months, Morgan had told himself. Guys with his
    talent and drive didn't grow on trees. And every bumpy
    road led to riches down the line.
    Morgan squeezed the cell phone--thought he'd felt
    it vibrate.
    "Mr. Isaacs?"
    Morgan turned around to see where the voice came from.
    Standing directly behind him, almost inappropriately close,
    was a tall, well-built man with close-cropped blond hair. He
    had on a pair of rimless Cartier sunglasses, must have run
    at least five hundred bucks. Not too shabby. His gray suit
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    was stretched over a lean frame, and Morgan could tell the
    guy had enough strength in those biceps to crush a tin can.
    Morgan didn't blink. Never show weakness, never
    show admiration. He was never rude, but on a job interview you wanted to appear confident, not too eager. Like
    they would be lucky to have you work for them.
    "And you are...Chester?" Morgan said.
    The man smiled and took off his sunglasses, folding
    them and tucking the pair into his breast pocket. He held
    out his hand. "Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming on
    such short notice."
    "No biggie," Morgan said. "Just had to reschedule a
    few things, that's all."
    "Really? Such as what?"
    Morgan stammered, "I, uh, meetings, you know.
    Banks. A bank."
    "Oh, well I hope the bank understood," Chester said
    with complete sincerity. If this guy realized Morgan was
    full of shit, he wasn't letting on. "Let's walk."
    Morgan followed Chester as he strolled down Fifth
    Avenue. He matched the man step for step, tried to keep
    his stride the same length but damn, the man had long
    legs. Instead Morgan shortened his paces and walked
    faster. It was two blocks before Chester spoke again.
    "How's the job hunt going?" he said.
    "It is what it is. There's always room for good workers,
    I figure I'll take a little time, weigh my options and see
    what the best fit is for me."
    "Really," Chester said, his voice either distant or disbelieving. "Any good leads? Anything coming down