The Asshole App

5. HERE'S TO THE CRAZY ONES

"I'll tell you who should be the face of our new Medicare app." Ray pulled up a video of a latex clad seductress, shamelessly gyrating on a pole. "Madonna. She's old in the tooth, but still looks hot."

"Not that broken down MK Ultra fail." Lear winced as the mezzo-soprano's sultry voice emanated from the phone.

Like a Virgin...touched for the very first time...

"Denis, not only was she a hard worker, I admire how she never cracked under pressure." Ray grinned, listening to the lyrics. Onscreen, Madonna squatted down as if she was going to relieve herself and seductively splayed her legs.

Like a vir-er-er-r-gin..

"She's a survivor, like me. I'll never forget how she resurrected herself from the ashes of her own bad publicity."

Let your heart beat!...Next to mine!..

"I don't want that devil incarnate dancing around on our phone," Lear snarled.

"It's called Kabbalah. Besides, if you're so unapproving of her, why is she endorsing our earbud line?" Ray asked.

"That Satan worshiper owns a controlling interest of our preferred stock." Madonna coyly flashed the horned devil sign, then licked the dancing pole.

Sinclair paused the video, raising his eyebrows. "Really? How did that happen?"

Lear looked embarrassed. "I had an affair with her last year. It ended badly, then she extorted me."

"Damn. I knew she was a high-level demoness, but I never realized she was that smart. The devil has my sympathy when that witch kicks the bucket. She'll throw his demon ass into his own fiery pit and commandeer his underworld for herself."

"Even more cunning than that vicious she-wolf, Meryl Streep," Lear muttered. "Another preferred stockholder." He sighed, "Ray, do you remember how we discussed not veering off into side ventures?" He pointed to The Material Girl. "This is one of those crossroads."

Ray's face grew thoughtful. "Denis, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I've been thinking about what you said yesterday. I hate to admit it, but you're right. I am trigger shy when it comes to change."

Lear froze in disbelief. "What did you say?"

"I said you were right about Tokyo. After Satoshi broke my heart, I forfeited a lot of the company's money. I know I can be a hard ass to work for, but I do value your judgment. We need Evelyn Simmons. She has a different thought process. She saw an opportunity no one else did."

Lear pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. "I can't believe you just admitted you were wrong. You never do that."

The carefully curated mask slipped from Sinclair's face. "All my life, I've succeeded because I was a rebel. Fighting anyone who told me, That's impossible." He scuffed his toe on the floor. "Maybe I lash out at the interns because I know I've become replaceable at best, an obsolete dinosaur at worst." He smiled ruefully. "I know it won't be long before my successor's running CENTIEN. That's why I've been hard on Evelyn. I saw so much of myself in her. I thought she would learn to fight back and stand up to me. Unfortunately, when it happened I couldn't handle it, so I drove her away." Without his cocky CEO smile, Sinclair reminded Lear of a vulnerable little boy. "I never learned to socialize as a child," he admitted, focusing on his sneaker-clad feet. "I have no personal life. What happens when it's time to hang up my crazy hat and retire? I've never been one to stand in the shadows." He stood there, feeling awkward and looking lost.

"Ray, the only reason CENTIEN exists is because you built this company."

"No. We built this company. Now tell me how can we fix this? How do we get Miss Simmons to return?"

"You're acting crazy today." Seeing Sinclair wasn't mind-fucking him, Lear grew animated. "I was hoping you'd come to your senses about Evelyn. I haven't turned her resignation in to Human Resources yet. I told her to think about it for a week. First of all, we can't just apologize. We need to offer her the marketing assistant position. I'm sure that'll lure her back." He pulled out his phone. "I'll send you the address of her new place of employment." Just as he hit send, an incoming text pinged. His face grew alarmed. "Shit, it's Jamison!"

Sinclair was half-listening, evaluating Evelyn's new work address. "This is a homeless shelter downtown. What's she doing applying there? Not only is she wasting her talent, it's probably dangerous."

Never mind. "Just bring her back. I have to go stall, Jamison and Casper."

————————

An hour later, Ray found himself parked outside the 3rd Street Men's Shelter. A run-down, two-story building next to a strip bar. "This whole block looks seedy," he observed, miserably. A white catering van parked itself a few spaces away from his fully loaded, self-driving Tesla. Two men wearing catering attire watched carefully as he entered the brick building.