What Can You Not Buy With Money?

Working for Burgess was a mirror resemblance of high school. You thought you would be able to handle it, and you tried earnestly to learn and do an outstanding job. But in the end, the person in charge manages to thwart your efforts and look down upon you as though you worth nothing.

I was sure I would lose my job after not being able to find the recording application to my phone. He managed to maintain his temper, though I could see his eyebrow twitch at me before he quickly returned to address his employees.

The meeting had been drabble and attention draining. The board consisted of men that were well past Burgess’ or my age. In fact, they were at least a decade older than my mother. Their voices were gruff, dry, and distorted in the large room. What also captured my attention was that there was not a single female presence, nor were there any other races except for a bilingual Chinese man who, I assumed, was the consultant for foreign affairs in China.

I could hardly keep pace with the discussions. I had to assume that the code words and ID numbers they listed were about certain software that they were planning to export to England. After an hour of this, Burgess finally ended with introducing me to everyone as they left the room. Their names faded into a confusing shade of numbers, software purposes, and coffee deprivation.

Burgess went back to his office, and I followed like the loyal employee I was. I assumed I would have enough time to make a quick stop at the bathroom, put on my stockings, grab a Styrofoam cup of coffee with gentle cloud plumes to soothe the anxiety I was beginning to inhale, and to sit down for a quick break. Juggling creams and sweetened coffee for overcrowding engineers every afternoon was less hassling as what I was about to suffer.

Burgess gave me the thickest binder you could ever imagine. It was as thick as my upper thigh, and weighed the same as a plump child. The three steel rings contained enough papers to make a tree hugger die of stroke.

“I expect you to study this and hold it in your memory as long as you work here,” Burgess droned as he returned to his desk and took out a smaller binder which he skimmed through effortlessly as if looking at a nursery picture book.

“What’s—in here?” I had to rearrange the way I held the giant binder before it slipped out of my shaking grasp.

“Various information that you’ll need to know: Our latest software, rival companies, employees, need I say more? I’ll expect you to review it during breaks and when you are off shift. But for now, you can go on your lunch break. I’ll expect you back in an hour.”

Having no extra limbs to check the time, I dumped the overbearing load onto the coffee table, making a smarting smoldering smack smite the table. He blankly looked at me as I shyly went into my pocket. My new cell phone read 12:02 PM. Time had fluttered past me without realizing.

“Yes sir,” I retrieved my treacherous notebook and left the office. But there was not a speck of consideration that I would take it with me anywhere out of that building. I placed it on my desk and quickly fled as I called Walker on my first phone. The reception was slightly jumbled and unclear.

“Hey, I’m waiting outside,” Walker had eagerly picked up the phone on the second ring. He sounded as though he was breathing hard, but it was more likely that the phone was filling with static. “Talk about coincidence, right? I got chased by this homeless guy and when I ran on Burgess’ campus these guards come out of nowhere and…”

“Hold on,” I interrupted as I leaped out of the elevator at the bottom floor. “I’m on your level.”

Outside, standing in a baggy sweater was Walker. His face was light red and his ears were the brightest pink. He was gasping for air.

“Mary,” Walker suddenly broke down in congested coughing.

“Woah, are you okay?” I felt a cold chill slither up my body as I watched him struggle to breathe. It must have been one hell of a fast hobo.

“Yeah—” Walker coughed again. “I’m just a little winded. So—” Walker quickly clapped his hands together and giggled like a wheezing hyena. I raised my eyebrows as he looked at me nervously. “What shall be your nourishment for the day? Italian? Vietnamese? Peruvian?” I could barely understand him as his voice quickly dried out and waned off. He looked redder in the face, as though he was struggling to breathe…

“I think we need to sit down,” I gestured to the benches. “You look like you need to take it easy.”

“No,” Walker pleaded, his face scowling. “I’m fine.”

Normally I would become a nervous biohazard whenever a person raised their voice at me. He hadn’t pressed his voice box onto a high volume, but he hissed venomously and desperately. Something was very wrong.

“All right, I’m in a Burger King mood.” I decided to drop it, for now. I carefully watched Walker from my peripheral vision as we walked north, where a small shopping district resided. Little fast food chains were nestled in small buildings islanding parking lots. Drive-thrus were all the rage for this area. Walker looked relatively at ease, but his thin frame was slightly hunched as though he was struggling to stand. His chest was heaving up and down many times faster than I’ve seen on a healthy man.

When we entered the air conditioned restaurant, Walker quickly lurched onto a table and carefully eased himself on the bench.

“I’ll get you some water,” I gave him a final fleeted glance as I quickly went in the long line. I constantly threw worried stares at his exhausted figure, which was resting its head on the table. He looked exhausted and ill.

Time froze into a solid wall of thick ice as I watched Walker’s frail body slump to the side. Gradually, time shattered into millions of ice shards that showered down into reality as Walker fell down to the tiled floor.

I ran toward him as his body slumped and stayed still. All around me, everyone existed in a blur. Watercolors crossed my vision and muffled sounds barely escaped into my ears as I knelt before Walker and started shaking his shoulders.

“Walker!” I cried as I knelt beside him and pressed my ear to his mouth. He was hardly breathing. “Somebody call an ambulance!” I yelled out. I quickly turned him to his side, my very spirit vibrating in fear as my eyes locked onto Walker’s face.

An ambulance arrived in less than ten minutes. They had gingerly lifted Walker on a gurney as though he was a priceless treasure. I quickly followed, though I was half blinded in shock. The paramedics were kind, for they let me sit in the ambulance next to Walker as they placed an oxygen mask over his face. I caught a few phrases such as ‘asphyxiation’ and ‘asthma attack’, but when a paramedic asked me about any medical conditions Walker suffered I merely stared at him blankly which earned me a cold glare for my incompetence.

I felt my sanity begin to slip away. Devastation was corrupting my body as I began imagining the worst possible outcomes. If Walker died, I felt I would die as well.

I sat in the waiting room, staring at my cell phone as I patiently anticipated Lucy’s arrival. The nurses had ordered me away from Walker’s room until he awoken, which they said would be in a few hours.

“I’m here for a friend. His name’s Charles Walker,” a familiar voice rang a comforting and needed bell into my attention. I turned to see Lucy at the nurses’ desk, her fair complexion paler and her body language terrified.

I quickly stood up and wrung my hands. Lucy looked surprisingly fractured, which was as though witnessing a steel block collapsing into ash. Her bold shoulders were hunched and twitched every few seconds. Her strong and compelling confidence was lost. She fidgeted her head to face me.

“He’s in the other room,” I weakly choked out, guilt strangling me for reasons I couldn’t understand.

Lucy walked up to me. “What happened?” Her eyes were blazing with suspicion. I could feel the seething anger that was beginning to pour onto me.

“I don’t know,” I shook my head, but felt too despaired to cower under Lucy’s gaze. “He met me for lunch, and I noticed he was having problems breathing. And when we went to Burger King he fainted.”

“Shit,” Lucy folded her arms, took out a lighter, and began flicking it on and off. “Sounds like another asthma attack. I shouldn’t have cancelled our break.” She quickly hid her lighter when a nurse gave her a stern eye. She explained, “He called me and asked if I wanted to join you two. I wanted to work on a new engine.” She faltered, and quickly pulled her hair back from her forehead. “God damn, when can we see him?”

“Is Walk—Charles sick?” I had no idea that Walker was his last name, but that fact wasn’t important to worry about at the moment.

“Call him Charles and he’ll rip your face off,” Lucy took a seat at a chair as she crossed her legs and drummed her fingers on the armrest. “Don’t ask me why, I don’t know…. And yes, Walker has a very serious case of asthma. He’s very sensitive about it: It’s one of those buttons of his you don’t want to push. So he doesn’t talk about it much.”

“I’m just a little winded…”

“Excuse me,” a nurse approached us with clipboard squeezed in her nurturing arms. “You wanted to see Mr. Walker?” Her face was dark and down.

“Yes,” Lucy nodded. “Is he awake?”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse gave us a tone that made the blood in my veins turn to acid. “He couldn’t be resuscitated.”

“No.” I shook my head in disbelief as the world started spinning. “No, no no…”

Lucy cleared her throat. “Our friend is Charles Walker, not Charlie Walker. He’s the one who's barely old enough to drink yet. He had an asthma attack.”

Suddenly I snapped my eyes at Lucy, who was looking over at the clipboard.

The nurse’s sodden eyes blinked in attention. “Oh, I’m sorry,” her cheeks were burning in embarrassment as she fumbled with her pen. “W-would you like to see your friend? He’s stable—feel free to. He’s two doors down to your left.” She quickly retreated behind the desk and sulked in her humiliation.

Lucy looked at me sharply, her eyes cunning and knowing. I gulped inside as new worry quivered in my spine. What confused me was the secret smirk that rose across her face. “You like Walker, don’t you?” Her voice was leering and dripping with gossip. It was scary.

“…I…” I couldn’t even breathe out a proper sentence. I walked with my mouth agape in a queer manner as I struggled to find the right words to say. Did I like Walker? I could see us going on dates and sharing a romantic relationship. He seemed like a nice enough guy.

“I thought so,” Lucy’s eyes softened. “Good for you! Do you need me to help you out?”

“No!” I blurted out and covered my mouth with a clap. Was it any of my business to tell her what I believed he felt?

“What? You look like you know something I don’t. Let me guess, Walker likes someone else.”

Slam dunk, bullseye, and bingo.

“Well, tell me—who’s your competition?” Lucy had a spark in her eye that made me wonder if she already knew the truth.

“You.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about. I don’t believe in romance, and I don’t find Walker sexually attractive,” Lucy brutally dragged on, “He’s as close to me as a gay brother. So go for it.”

I thought she was being harsh and jagged, but I then realized that this meant I had a slight chance with him. It threw a security blanket over me, giving me permission to let my admiration for him grow. Instantly, I began to like him even more.

We quietly opened Walker’s private room, which greeted us with a loud roar. At a table by the head of the bed lightly whistled a humidifier, blowing expanding water vapor just over Walker’s sleeping face. At the foot of the bed was an air purifier that hissed a continuous cycle of cleaning the air. As we drew closer, I could almost hear Walker’s wheezing breath slowly as he breathed carefully. A strange device which I later discovered was called a nebulizer had been recently used and was currently lying next to the humidifier. An aerosol mask was abandoned and slumped on top of his chest.

“Hey small fry,” Lucy dragged a small chair from the corner and dragged it next to Walker. I stood awkwardly behind her. “You need to stop pushing yourself so hard. You gave us quite the scare.”

Walker’s eyes rolled from under his eyelids, and he slowly opened them with a squint. “Can I get some water?” His voice was raspier than a veteran smoker.

“I got it,” There was a small sink in the far corner of the room, with a small stack of Styrofoam cups. Before I could get Walker any water, I heard an unfamiliar ringtone call out to me. It was piercing and very annoying.

“Damn, that’s loud!” Lucy snapped.

My pocket began to vibrate angrily, and I took out the cell phone that Burgess assigned me. The caller ID shouted Boss in glowing letters.

My heart started trembling, adding more stress onto my temples as a headache was born. It was past my lunch hour. I was doomed.

It rang again, and I heard Lucy softly curse in agitation and disgust. I heard Walker clear his throat as he patiently waited for a drink. I quickly poured him some tap water, apologized, and excused myself out of the room. I felt as though I was a walking piece of filth for leaving Walker—but if I didn’t answer the phone I would have absolutely lost my job.

I closed the door to shut myself off from the two. A nurse passed by me and gave me a quick nod before retreating down the hall. “Ye—“

“Where are you?” Burgess snapped with impatience. His voice was beginning to escalate but still retained control.

“I’m sorry, but something came up—“

“What are you doing in the hospital?” Burgess interrupted. I almost forgot that there was a tracking device in the phone. But that meant his first question was rhetorical. “What happened?”

“My friend had an attack,” I avoided the details the best I could, “And I went in the ambulance with him.”

“You’re missing work for your boyfriend?” His voice was heavy with disbelief.

“He’s not my boyfriend—and he almost died,” I defended. “I’ll make up the hours on Saturday.” I doubted it’d be any consolation.

“I expect you back now. Either I’ll take this out of your pay or you make it up tonight. I’m waiting,” His tone was thick with a lingering threat.

It felt wrong to leave Walker while he was hospitalized, but the thought of never finding another job with a salary as high as my current one was the heavier side.

“Sorry,” I told Lucy and Walker as they stared at me in shock--confusion even, “I really have to get back to work. I’m really sorry,” was all I could say before I left. I remember the flicker of disappointment in Lucy’s face and the hurt in Walker’s eyes as I quickly fled the smell of rubbing alcohol and illness.

“It’s about time,” Burgess snapped as I entered his office. “Get to your desk and answer your phone. I’m expecting a call from Slater Inc. for dinner. I’ll expect you to schedule it.” His tone was dangerous, warning me not to dare cause him any techniques.

“Yes sir,” I shut the door swiftly just as my desk phone began to whirl in its shrill ring. I quickly took a seat and picked it up. “Burgess Incorporated,” I waited.

"Hello,” a male’s voice murmured warmly. I could detect a thick French accent. “This is Slater Enterprise. About lunch tomorrow…”

I reached for a pen and prepared to scribble his exact words, breath, and pause. With my other hand I carefully fiddled with my Smartphone, struggling to pull up the planner. The touch screen was unbearable without a wand to press the virtual keys.

“Mrs. Slater has to reschedule. Can Mr. Burgess make dinner at 7:00 PM?”

The calendar was blank. “Yes, he can make it. At where?”

“Alain Ducasse au Plaza Athénée,” the voice lightly paused, “Reservations for four. So we’ll see you two there.” The person quickly hung up, leaving the dull tone droning into my skull.

Alan Ducasse… I never heard of it. It sounded exuberant and I would have been naïve if I assumed it was anywhere near a price range I could personally afford.

I cautiously approached Burgess’ office to tell him of the update. I was half afraid that he would yell at me for doing something else wrong. Already my nerves were being unraveled by this job.

“Mr. Burgess,” I knocked the door carefully and let myself in. “Lunch with Slater has been postponed to dinner at seven in the Alain Duc…” I fumbled with the phone, my face raising in temperature, “Ducasse au Plaza Athenee.”

“Athénée,” Burgess corrected. “All right, you can go now. Get some rest and be ready for a flight tonight. Bring an evening dress, something fashionable or at least something that won’t embarrass me.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, wondering where on earth this restaurant was.

“Paris,” Burgess stood up and gathered his things.

I stared for a few seconds in confusion. I quietly whispered, “Paris…? France Paris? Couldn’t it be somewhere here?”

“Obviously not,” Burgess snorted in disregard. “I need to settle a proposal with Slater, and if I don’t pursue her in her territory we’re never going to form a coalition.”

It sounded like a battlefield. I didn’t want to go on my first airplane ride with this guy. That was the first thought that haunted me. I never flew before. “I don’t have a passport,” I was a little thankful for that.

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll pick you up from your residence at ten. I expect you to be prepared. And don’t wander off,” the last sentence sounded exasperated, as though he was dealing with a slow child and expected me to do something foolish. “I don’t need to hunt you down.”

“Why do you need me?”

“It’s… traditional,” Burgess tried to find the right words to explain, “And Slater will be disappointed if she doesn’t get to meet any new employees of mine. She likes to keep everything personal with possible partners.”

“All right. Have a nice evening,” I firmly worded as I humbly exited out. The moment the door was closed I angrily punched the air in front of me, wishing it was his stupid face.