Page 85 - The Houseguest

the label of liaison perfectly. Pierre was a nice enough guy, but Brian knew there was no way a man like him could ever commiserate with the plight of the people he was helping. Nevertheless, Brian returned his small talk and pleasantries. He needed Pierre on his side, to help him, and help him fast.
They discussed everything ad nauseam, going over every comparison of himself and the potential sponsor, Lance. At times he almost let his pride get the best of him while listening to Pierre speak so nonchalantly about the process of a grown man who had been dealt a bad hand, seeking assistance from a man whom life had dealt four aces. The Brian of yesterday would have reacted much differently to Pierre’s unintentional, insults. Perhaps he was starting to change, like his sister had. He shook his head and smirked realizing what an impossible task that would be for him. He endured two hours of paperwork and Pierre before he was handed a card. He looked down at the handwriting: “Lance Powell Richards, III. Monday 3:00 PM - La Barista’s Coffee House - New York, NY.”
It was Saturday afternoon and he had until Monday to prepare for the interview. He wondered why Mr. Richards wanted to meet him in a coffee shop, but didn’t question it further; it was as good a place as any. He tossed and turned on his cot all night. He broke out in cold sweats, angrily hurling his blankets onto the concrete floor. His mind was racing as his past was trying to meld with his future, leaving him caught somewhere in between. Had life hardened him beyond redemption? Was it too late to change the path of his journey? His father had saturated his brain with thoughts that he was born a failure
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life