The Boss

A Touch of the Past

"Miss Jones, you're lagging behind," he said to me without stopping or confronting me. I was too caught up in my despair to pay him mind.

"Rosa," he called snapping me out of the terror that had ignited. His eyes looked at me with a question that his mouth was unwilling to say.

Is something wrong?

I simply just proceeded to walk which prompted him to do so as well. I was trying to control my breathing to a normal state. It was difficult but I managed to do so as much as I tried to hide it from Mr. Richards.

A driver met us out front with a sleek black Volkswagen and brought us to a hotel. We arrived after a long journey to a grand hotel. At the front desk in the lobby area, a man sat in his uniform which consisted of red, tailored with white and yellow.

Mr. Richards had already booked a suite in the hotel so all that was left for him was to collect his room card.

I followed him down the hallway watching as we pass different numbered doors embedded in thick, goldish Romanian. The hotel interior was designed mainly red with goldish imprints but it wasn't enough to be overbearing because of how white accentuated it. So basically, I had to stay in the same suite as him but thank God it's different rooms or else I wouldn't know what I'd do.

Stopping at the suite, he pulled out a key card and swiped the latch on the door to open it. He stepped inside and examined the place. As if satisfied with the look, he moved on and explored the rooms while I just stood in the middle of the door entrance.

"Miss Jones," he called.

I gulped entering slowly while advancing to where he had called me.

"Yes Sir," I found him at a door.

"Your room, here," he opened a door. "My room, there," he finished looking at the door a few meters down the hall of the other side. "Be ready in an hour and a half time." With that said he sauntered off to his room shutting the door behind him.

The porter came with our bags minutes later and I tipped him with our currency since I didn't have any of theirs. I took my luggage and headed to my room. I thought against informing Mr. Richards because, well I didn't want to talk to anybody now. If he wanted he could deduct money from my paycheck for all I cared. Right now I just wanted to be by myself.

All I could think about was death. Harsh cold, chilling death. I couldn't take it. I wanted it to stop. I thrashed and thrashed on the bed but I refused to let the tears fall. I had cried enough about this already. It was time for me to let go. After all, not all memories here were bad.

Imagine growing up in a country where Santa Claus originated. It is said that Santa Claus came about because of a man named Saint Nicholas. He was so giving to people because of his good nature. Over the years this story had developed a few tweaks in which he was now dressed in red and white and lived at the north pole and also flew around the world with flying reindeers delivering gifts to children at Christmas.

Or where many historical places were strongly adored. But most of all, the funfilled memories that originated here. But sadly they weren't forever. I took a shower and an hour into the wait trying to feel revived and mentally and emotionally prepared for the meeting. I wasn't used to going into these things blindly because I was his personal assistant and I was in charge of his schedules. It was always good to be prepared for the unexpected though because when it came to Mr. Richards, you really didn't know what to expect.

I was ready in less than ten minutes before the desired time. Mr. Richards was already ready and waiting and that meant that it was time to leave whether it was the designated time or not.

The same driver was waiting for us at the front of the building. He chauffered us to the place of the meeting. Someone was outside to greet us and show us where the meeting was to be held. He introduced himself as Mr. Habab

"Türkiye'ye Hoş Geldiniz," the man before us spoke in Turkish when we entered the conference room and were seated.

"Welcome to Turkey," a man beside him began to translate. The man that looked to be in his sixties continued to speak in his native tongue while the other man, Mr. Habab, who appeared to be near his forties translated. "I hope that your flight was favorable and that you are well accommodated at the hotel. I am Mr. Yusuf, a pleasure to meet you."

"I am Rosa Jones, Mr. Richards personal assistant," I indicated to the man seated next to me. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well." I smiled at the man before me while the message was being conveyed to him.

He nodded in understanding. "It is within your knowledge that I want to become an investor in the company you work at. However, I'm not swayed by your statistics, indeed it has captured my attention but not enough to move me. With you here, I want you to convince me that this company is the ideal company to invest in and that it won't be a waste." He referred to me.

It seemed that Mr. Richards had already spoken the details of this day towards Mr. Yusuf. Which would indicate why he was talking to only me.

It was up to me now to persuade him. It wouldn't be any different from talking to someone from a different country because the job was to get them to invest.

"I would start off with the fact that the company has always shown great increase each month and that it has never lost or how it has stayed at the stop for as long as I can remember but that is stuff you can read for yourself and I'm sure that you already know. As long as I've known this company and even gotten the chance to work with it. It has always been about progress. They wouldn't tolerate anything else. I've known and worked with Mr. Richards's father, the previous owner of this company and I've seen how perpetually, he has endeavored himself to this company. He has put his whole existence into it and he would have to perish first before he sees it plummet to the ground. That is why I'm certain that he has bestowed this determination in his son with so much more. As I am now tasked with being his personal assistant, he expects nothing more than exceptional. They say that experience teaches wisdom and honestly I don't think this is wrong but it's not completely the case with my employer. You see, I believe that his wisdom his driven by determination, the will to be successful, and not only that but the craving to exceed his father. It's not the age that determines his actions but the will force that circulates through him. The drive that pushes him." I finished with a deep breath. That was really a mouth full but none of which was a lie.

At this rate with all those compliments, he should be kissing me as-

"Miss Jones, " the man seated beside me warned. To any onlooker, this situation would seem as if he was hearted by the speech I had given. But that bit of sharpened ice that seeped through was enough to impale me.

Mr. Yusuf started speaking while Mr. Habad proceeded to translate. "I am greatly appreciative of what you said. As you should know by now, this is will take place over a period of three days. We will continue to discuss this tomorrow. Thank you for your time."

"It was a pleasure," I responded.

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Did you ever believe in Santa Claus?

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