Hoffers Greenfield sucked a deep breath as he heard me over the phone. His eyes remained stilled and face was flushed with uncertainty as he paid rapt attention to my cold voice.
As soon as I hung up, Hoffers punched into the air in absolute excitement. His eyes sparkled. He chuckled, revealing lines of joy. “Yes! Yes!” he chanted and hugged his aide so firmly that he was forced to ask his boss:
“What is the news about, boss?” he was still hugged into the hold of Hoffers , whose joy knew no bound now. “Talk to me, boss. I guess there is hope for us now.” Anxiety hung over him.
With arms wide open, he intoned, “I just spoke with the world richest man. you won’t believe what he just told me .” his mouth was still curved into a smile as he held the anxious face of the aide and spoke into it, “He booked an appointment with me tomorrow morning at the Saint Don Group…..”
“Wow, boss. This is epic,” his jaw flexed, “We could be on our way to win back the cooking contract. What do you think, boss?” he grinned to his ears.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Already Hoffers had found himself at the wine shelf where he mixed spirit with citrus extract, “This is what it is supposed to be dear. This is my turn to shine.” He prided and advanced forward with two glasses of spirit and handed one to his aide. “Who the hell is Charity Intercontinental to be awarded contract meant for me? I knew I was going to get hold on the contract after all! I still remain the chairman of the best restaurant in Rio Hondo.”
His aided bowed with his nerves popped beneath his brow, “I thought as much boss, yeah, perhaps the world richest man was bewitched by Charity’s sudden patronage which was triggered by his visit. Everyone in Rio Hondo could attest to the fact that Hoffers Food is the grandmaster in the food business…”
Hoffers interposed after he earned a quick sip, “None can contest that, oh my God!” his gaze was raised to the ceiling with nervous hands up in praises, “Oh God of fame. You know how famous we have been and you refused to elude us of the contract.” He returned his gaze on his aide who was busy pouring spirit, “What is today’s date? Hurry and check it!” his usual mellifluous voice demanded, “Check when is the twenty fifth day.”
The aide was already using his green eyes to comb around the calendar, “The twenty fifth day is the day after,” he muttered and tossed his head firmly. “Yeah, in two days.”
Hoffers shot a thoughtful stare at him, “That is the D-day, the president’s birthday. Obviously the world richest man is inviting me so I could sign the necessary documents and be officially awarded the contract.” He shook his head frantically and affirmed yet further, “I guess that is what he wants to do.”
His aide was still at his smile, “Actually boss, it is all glaring that it is his intention since the day after is the president’s birthday.”
Hoffers peered at the phone line, punched in some numbers and muttered into it, “Hey, secretary pass an urgent memo across all the staff. There is an urgent meeting. Something delightsome is about to happen to us.” He hung up and gazed upon his aide, “Hurry and quicken the staffers to gather at the conference hall. I must break the good news to them.”
The aide blinked once and shrugged thoughtfully, “Boss, boss,” he protested, are you not being too inquisitive? I suggest you keep the news within yourself until you meet with the world richest man tomorrow and confirm the contract.” He noticed Hoffers’ jaw sag and he tendered, “Apologies boss if I sound pessimistic, but I think there is sense in my words…”
Hoffers interposed him with a sigh, “Come on apologies. If I tell you there is no sense in your words.” He dragged a furrowed brow, “I am enfeebled at your words. Are you still in doubt, huh?” He pointed at the door, “Now get going. Get your ass out of my sight. Summon all the staff. It is certain we have won the contract. To hell with your negative vibe!” He blew hot at his aide.
The aide tilted his neck and bowed, “Apologies, boss. I will go right away,” he muttered and left instantly.
Later with his arms pocketed Hoffers stood over his staffers and addressed them in the most nervous tone ever.
“I just want to inform you that the world richest man has finally awarded us the cooking contract for the banquet birthday of Mr. President!”
The entire staffers raised a brow and stood up in unfathomable excitement before opening a clap. “Wow! Finally! We are the best!”
Hoffers gestured at his staffers to quieten down, “give it a rest! Steady on! Few minutes ago the world richest man booked an appointment with me in his office tomorrow and I don’t need to convince you it is bordering on the cooking contract!”
The staffers interrupted with booing chant, “Hoffers food is the best!
With unsteady arms, Hoffers gestured at them to quieten, “The president’s birthday will be in two days and I want to inform you all that not only will we execute the contract but we will deliver a poison-free food the entire populace would consume.”
Hoffers smacked his lips and let a haze of smile becloud his face while his staffers booed and chanted in amazement.
***
Once my door creaked and opened, I raised my expectant gaze to meets Zion’s furious face. “Greetings boss.” His face was flushed with scorn and contempt and I perceived a ting of complaint was hanging in his heart.
“Boss did you give express entry to Hoffers Greenfield?” Mira said you did. I just came to confirm.” Zion affirmed and remained bowed.
I smirked and gestured at Zion, “is Hoffers Greenfiled around?” I queried and once he gave a feeble nod, I added, “Let him in.”
Zion said nothing, sucked a deep breath and managed to bow.
In a jiffy Hoffers Greenfield pranced into my office, smiling to the brim of his ears. And when I forced a smile at him he chuckled revealing lines of joy.
“Greetings the world richest man!” he bowed and the next moment he raised his gaze, my photo on the wall caught his sight; it was the photo when I was Brian Patrick.
Hoffers raised a furrowed brow as his eyes bored into mine, daring to strike the resemblance. He shook his head in disapproval.
“Is that not Brian Patrick?” he queried, leaving his gaze on the photo, “Mike Don do you know Brian Patrick? That asshole, godforsaken boy was my delivery boy.” Hoffers cursed and shot a striking stare at me to catch the resemblance, “Do you have anything to do with that poverty-stricken boy since you have his photo on your wall?”
With eyes welled up with tears, I groaned through sniffing, “I am the poverty-stricken Brian Patrick.” I groaned…