CHAPTER EIGHT

RICHARD

I felt like I was walking on clouds as I shut the door firmly behind me. I could hear the hubbub of conversation from those I had left in there. I was glad James had walked in just before I left. Things could not have walked out better if I had scripted the whole thing. I ordered an Uber. Whistling a tune, I passed the security post, nodded in the direction of the lax security guards who had thrown me out a while ago..

I only had to wait outside the gates for a few minutes for my Uber to arrive. Just as the driver hurried out of the car to help me with my luggage, the screen appeared before my eyes and a small smile crept to my face.

[FOR YOUR NEXT TASK, YOU ARE TO SPEND 2 MILLION DOLLARS WITHIN 24 HOURS]

I whistled under my breath.

"Two million," I murmured.

"Sorry?" I looked up to see the driver giving me an enquiring look.

"Nothing. I er- wasn't referring to you." Just then, I received a notification from the bank that my account had been credited with 2 million dollars. I smiled and tucked my phone into my pocket.

The driver put the other suitcase in the boot and then turned on the ignition.

"Where are we headed?" he asked.

I gave him the address of my condo. He repeated the address in a tone of surprise. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, his look of skepticism evident.

He was no doubt wondering what a shabbily dressed man was going to do at a location like that, but he said nothing. As the car sped off, I looked down at my clothes. I had to admit to myself that my clothes were rather worse for wear. It was no wonder almost everyone I had come across regarded me with contempt. I had a few good clothes in my suitcases, but none of them fit the image of the person I was now.

Since I had money, I figured I had to dress the part. Besides, I had two million dollars to spend within a day. There was one place I could get good quality clothes- at the shopping mall where I worked. I leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder.

"Change of plans," I said. "Take me to Megastore, the shopping mall."

The traffic that evening was light and I got to the mall within the hour. After giving the driver a generous tip, I told him to wait until I had finished. I got out of the car slowly and for a moment stared at the building. I had been here several times before, of course, but it felt... different this time.

This time, I wasn't going in as a uniformed employee, bustling about to attend to customers. This time, I was a customer. As I made my way to the entrance, I heard a familiar voice barking orders. It was Mr Samson, the manager, who was supervising the loading of some goods into a truck.

"Handle that one with care!" he said to a harassed looking young man, actually more of a boy, who was struggling to carry a heavy carton twice his size.

Samson stopped talking as I got closer. He was one for not offending the shoppers at the mall, but loved to talk down on those who were lower in rank to him.

He always took advantage of those working under him. Like everyone else, I had suffered at his hands. He was so fixated on his task that he glanced at me without interest, and I was beginning to think that I would be able to get into the mall without incident when his gaze suddenly swiveled back to me. He did a double take.

"Richard!" he barked, taking off his cap and slapping it angrily against his thigh. "What the heck were you about to do just now? Were you seriously thinking of going in there? Didn't you see me?"

I sighed deeply. It seemed today was going to be the day where I compulsorily had to deal with a lot of jerks; from Jake to his blonde friend, to James, the Whites and now Samson.

"Hello, Mr Samson," I said quietly.

"He says hello." Samson looked around, silently inviting an audience to pay attention to the scene I knew he wanted to create.

The men loading the truck had been looking on, relieved to see someone other than them being railed at. When they saw Samson was looking, they returned to work double- time, hoping to finish before they became the center of his attention once more. Samson moved close to me, his stance intimidating, only he didn't intimidate me anymore.

"You just show up here, after being absent from work for several days and all you can say to me is hello?" he growled.

I raised a brow. "I thought hello was a common form of greeting. I'm wondering why it annoys you so much... sir."

Samson's bushy beard bristled as he glared at me. "Don't you dare start with that bloody smart mouth of yours, Richard. You don't know how much trouble your lazy, incompetent ass is in right now. I'll see that a substantial amount is removed from your paycheck for this month. I'll-"

"There will be no need for that," I said, interrupting. "I quit."

"You what?" he bellowed.

"I quit. As of this moment, I resign."

"You bloody well can't do that."

"Oh. And why can't I?"

"Because I haven't given you permission to quit."

"You've got to be kidding me. I haven’t heard of being given permission to resign. Well, you don't own me. I quit and there is nothing you can do about it. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some shopping to do and-" I glanced at the truck. "-I'm sure you have work to get back to."

Samson got over the shock of me addressing him that way and followed me into the mall.

"Stop right there," he called. "Where do you think you're going? Are you trying to steal something? I swear, if any item gets missing, I won't hesitate to call the cops on you."

"Really? We'll see about that," I replied.

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