It Had Been Years by Michael Malflic

inspecting his jacket for lint one last time.  Admittedly it’s a stall and once he steps foot out the door the day really begins.  In truth he has more than four working hours into the day, he’s been on the phone with staff back East for hours.  Going over every detail, planning, positioning, checking and rechecking everything in exasperating detail, making sure nothing was missed or misunderstood.  A decision was made, a little touch up ironing on his shirt and lapels, a shower and a fresh shave had brought him to this point in the day.  He puts his ever present shades on like a cloak of invincibility for his geeky teenage Dungeons and Dragons game and steps into the hall, down in the elevator, his wooden heels clicking authoritatively on the marble hall way leading to the lobby.  Vincent stops and slides effortlessly three steps to the right for a glass of water with lime, finishing it in one quick gulp, he passes through the main doors as the bellman and Chris finish loading his suitcase into the trunk.  He just slid himself into the passenger side back seat of the Lincoln, coming to rest with a posture that would have given his kindergarten teacher a heart attack and at that very moment he was quite certain that he could feel his grandmother’s decaying corpse spinning like a top inside of her grave.  Shins positioned exactly over his ankles, his ass on the front third of the seat, back rounded oddly forward and backward at the same time.  His arms wantonly laid at his sides the left hand open as if in an unbalanced meditative state in a reclined cobblers Yoga pose.  His right hand was gripping his cell phone in what can only be described as a casual death grip incase the device at some point or another could spring to life and try a daring escape.  The hand looked relaxed but the white knuckles told a different story.
     
     
    The door is closed by the Bell Captain and Vincent greets Chris cordially but it is not a time for small talk, he is in his own world, running through the meeting in his mind, playing and replaying the expected moves, the positioning, the talking points, and at the same time validating the data in his own mind one last time just to be sure.  What could be their reactions, objections, the precise words to choose, how to delicately deliver the message, had there been a key piece of data overlooked?  Not very likely but mathematically possible.   As the car winds through the Mecca of the technology industry and the information age he sees Yahoo’s marquee building in the distance, the landscape was dotted with household names, Google and HP, industry monoliths like Cisco and Sun Micro mixed in with names that never quite made it, other yet unknown with dreams of wealth and prosperity next to the empty office space still bearing the best long since lost dreams of others who failed. It was like giving birth in a cemetery while a funeral was going on, the mourners were trying not to be sad and the mother of the baby was trying to forget that she was suddenly reminded of her own mortality. At least Deb looked and seemed truly happy he thought as such pleasantries once again diminished and back to the tasks at hand.  As Chris brought the car to a stop Vincent collected all his thoughts one last time ready to play them back at the appropriate moments like a well rehearsed play.  “Are you going to wait?”  he asked.  “Yeah Vince, but I was going to run up the street and get a coffee.” 
    “Ok, but be here in 45 minute incase the meeting runs short.” 
    Vincent flips a 20 over the space between the drivers’ and passenger side front seat “Big assed Latte with three extra espresso shots dumped in, low fat or skim and whatever you want.” Pausing momentarily, he adds “I’m sorry, I should have asked. Do you mind?”  All the while his tone was that of an old friend talking to another old friend, Chris didn’t mind and now had a sponsor for his drink also.  For as much