AGE OF INSANITY

Chapter four : The test

It had been a week since I started working, it had been terrifyingly mundane. After my momentous first day, the rest of the week had been fairly calm save for the boulder I had discovered in the form of embezzlement which I was planning on throwing into the still pond that had been my week.

It had not been my intention to find a fault when I had first requested the annual reports for the past ten years. ' I am going to be here for the for seeable future, so I might as well get the lay of the land', had been my reasoning at the time. It took me the whole of an hour to spot a flaw, it had been little almost dismissible ten cents was not a lot, but the same irregularity applied to every hundred square meters of paper up surging the amount too little over a million per shipment.

The Grand Gale Stationery manufacturing company was one of my father's lesser successful enterprises. Lesser by his standards, it still managed to rake an average of ten million Kenyan shillings in profit every month, pocket change to my father but a lifetime opportunity for anyone else.  The irregularities dated back seven years, which exempted the scrumptious CEO who had only been under my father's employment for three years. There was, however, an increase in the amount being siphoned, from ten cents to fifty cents, that meant that whatever profit the company was half of what was expected.

Whoever was responsible took advantage of the new management and made a bold move. I understand my father's lack of interest in the company may have led to people getting away with more than they should but the CEOS failure to notice the crater in the financial statement was incomprehensible.

The stupid traffic jam on Mombasa road was grating on my already thin nerves and I was one honk away from driving into someone's car. I had requested for an audience with my father and the CEO whose name I had not yet bothered to learn. The meeting was in three hours and my father hated tardiness more than anything else. The outfit I had chosen for the work had been understated and was not at all what I wanted to wear for the meeting.

I had not seen the CEO again after our introduction and it had been over a month since I had a face-to-face meeting with my father. I needed to look flawless, my father valued appearance and appealing to the CEO's senses would be an added bonus. I went through my wardrobe options as I slowly crawled out of traffic.
 I had specifically gotten a two-bedroomed house, to have a walk-in closet. I had gone through the pains of installing shelves and racks and drawers. Everything was organized according to the type of clothing, color, and occasion. Clothes took half of the room, the other half was filled with accessories, bags, and shoes. The floor was covered with a soft, plush, cream rug that covered every inch of the room. I had covered the entire door with a mirror and placed a velvet, grey ottoman in the middle of the room.

Every clothing item was organized and then uploaded to my virtual closet. This way I could pick an outfit without creating an unnecessary mess. The form-fitting, black, strapless dress seemed like the best option. The top half was silk and the bottom half was African print, an original design by Monica. The dress came with a matching pair of strappy, block heels and I had a customized designer clutch bag that would complete the outfit. With an outfit already picked out all I had to do was have a quick shower and light makeup and I would be on my merry way.

I like my things organized, messes irk me to no end. When I first moved in I wanted to get everything in black, but my mother's appalled look at the idea forced me to consider other options. I settled for a color schemed room. My living room was covered in different shades of black and white the stark white walls that I had repainted went well with the white floor rug, the black L-shaped couch complimented the black centerpiece.

The different black and white throw pillows and artwork tied the room together nicely. In my bedroom I had papered the wall silver grey, my king sized bed was charcoal grey with beige covers, I had added a custom made silver-grey ottoman that matched my beds' head design. The only items that weren't grey were the furry, white, plush, floor rag that covered the entire  bedroom and the white dressing table that adorned the left corner of my room. My bathroom was mostly an empty space covered with blue tiles. There was nothing I could do to make the room more to my taste save add curtain showers, decorative soap dishes, and a light blue rag that matched the walls.

My friends complimented my sense of style, they thought I would have made it big if I had choosen to be an interior designer. It was the one time my mother had expressed her pride in me. It was also the first time she conceded outloud to the fact that the two of us shared similar genes.

It took me an hour to get ready and get out of the house. The meeting was in a hotel known as Beppein. It was about half an hour drive from my place a little longer with traffic but I managed to arrive five minutes before seven. When my father had said it was a business meeting, I had been under the impression it was just going to be me, him, and the CEO and yet there they all were waving at me. it had been ages since I last saw my entire family together.

The last time had been sitting Christmas and the end-of-year party my parents threw at our mansion attendance was mandatory. There were several other people and thankfully little time for awkward and uncomfortable conversations. It was the last week of June and I had yet to make an effort to go home. My mother was immaculately dressed as always with a black evening gown that had to have cost a fortune. The twins, Rebecca and Richard, were drop-dead gorgeous as always, they were only sixteen and were already turning heads. They looked more exotic than I did, their Latino heritage more obvious than mine, their Gucci outfits that had obviously been picked out by my mother did not hurt matters.

My father was looking immaculate as usual and the CEO fit right in. Even in a place as high end as this, my family still managed to steal the show, whatever secrets we harbored were hidden behind picture-perfect illusions.
The appetizers were laid out in front of me just as I sat down. It was a clear sign that whatever I had to say had to wait until after dinner. My father hated talking business during dinner and whoever had ordered the food before my entrance was well aware of this fact.

My mother urged us to eat, flashing a conniving smile my way. I had been tricked into attending a family dinner, this had her expensive scent all over it. After this, she will try and get me to go home with them. She's resilient I'll give her that and it's a good thing I inherited it from her' I thought as I flashed back a 'game on' smile at her. The lavish eight-course meal was amazing, the forced small talk peppered in between was not.

After all these years my family, except my father, tried to rope me into their loving little family despite my obvious distaste at the idea. Stubbornness is an ingrained trait in my family and the inability to take a hint, it would seem. My father on the other hand appeared nonchalant in all things, he ate his food in silence only grunting in response to direct questions. He was more my style; silence is golden, most people forget that.

Two hours later I was finally granted a private audience with my father and the CEO. I stated my case and provided the evidence clearly and logically to not cause any misunderstanding. It wasn't just a matter of bringing an abuse of power to light, the delicate part was the offender. Such a blatant misappropriation of funds required the kind of backbone most paid workers lack. Getting away with half of the company's profit also required a high-ranking office in the company.

The company was solely owned by my father and therefore the only other people with high-level clearance were the new CEO and my grand uncle whom my father had put in charge as curtsey rather a formality. It was a delicate matter you see because in exposing his uncle, my grand uncle, I was asking him to choose between him and me. I could have let it go, played dumb but a morbid curiosity to see whom he would choose kept me on track.

"You can have the company if you want" he finally said after studying the documents I had emailed him, "and your first duty is to deal with your grand uncle as you see fit. Marcus here will help you with anything you need and I looked forward to seeing good results" he concluded pushing back his chair and making his way to where the others were leaving me with the CEO whose name it seemed was Marcus.

It was a test; my father was blunt that way. I had expected this information to throw him off but he had handled it with ease as if he knew all along what had been going on. My father was a numbers wizard much like myself. He liked numbers simply because he was good at it, I liked them because they were as clear-cut as anything could be, the answers could always be found as long as you understood the problem. From the way he had handled the problem he had to have known, that means it was not a mere coincidence that he had chosen The Grand Gale for me. It had been a test and so was this.

When it comes to business my father is as shrewd as they came, he was always ten steps ahead, he had to have known something was up. This way he killed two birds with one stone got rid of a pesky problem and trapped me in a cage of my own making. Marcus was silently watching me; his stupid, poker face on.