When we reach the reception area, Harmon turns to me and says, “Again, I am so sorry to rush out. We will be in touch some time tomorrow.” And with that, he leaves me standing there.
Oliver looks up at me from behind his cluttered desk, giving me a smile.
“I have a goody bag for you.”
“A goody bag?” I question.
He smiles and starts to pull things out of the gift bag.
“Keys for the Rover. A cell phone.”
“Cell phone?”
Oliver looks at me, brow pinched. “He said you needed one.”
“And you just have them lying around?”
“This is a large company. We get new employees all the time.”
“So, this is a business phone?”
“Well, yes and no. It was bought to be used as one for the business, but when I set it up, I put that it was personal. They will need you to call and put your address on file though.” He goes back to dig in the bag. “Here is the paperwork for your bank account.”
“What? How did you—”
“You will have to go down there, of course, and give copies of your license and whatever other paperwork they need—best to call and ask first—but it is all set and ready fortransactions. A check for two grand. Oh, and this is the business card for Stewart’s. It’s one of Mr. Stone’s favorite clothing stores.”
“Check for two grand?” I squeal, pulling it from his hand to look at it closer. “What is this for?”
“I assume a sign-on bonus? Use it to buy some new clothes. That’s what I did.”
I gape at him, then back at the check.
“Am I in the Twilight Zone?”
“Mr. Stone is a very generous boss. He’s kind to all of his employees. You made the right choice coming here.”
He offers me the small bag. There is a logo on both sides, not quite black but a dark grey. It looks like the hands on a watch, forming the letter T. It’s clean and polished. Beneath it in a sans serif font is STONE TIMEWORKS. It’s modern and expensive-looking, though I didn’t need a logo to figure that out. Just look at this place.
“Thank you,” I mutter.
“Do you need me to walk you down or can you find the garage yourself?”
“I think I can manage.”
“You can take the elevator on the left all the way down to the garage. Once you get into the lot, turn left and that’s where the cars are parked. Have a wonderful day, Mr. Carr.”
“You too. Thanks.”
In a daze, I make my way to the elevator and go down to the garage. Once I’m in it, I click the button for the car, and the lights flash, telling me which one it is.
When I get in, I break down completely.
How the hell is this real?
Chapter Eight
Cassius