Restoration by Sam Bradbury

Author:Sam Bradbury
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2022-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

8

MAGNUM OPUS

The landfill opened more than a year ago, yet the death threats and office break-ins continued. The mayor called them minor issues from a sparse contingent resentful of clean streets. Nonetheless, additional safety precautions were taken. Regularly changing the route he took home each day, while frequently monitoring the cameras installed around his property. Extra security was added to city hall, and all meetings with the mayor were ordered be held virtually or within the secure walls of his office. On this, he made absolutely no exceptions…other than this one time.

It started as a routine phone call with a gruff-sounding ag-tech investor wishing to contribute to the mayor’s future campaign for governor. He had been receiving such calls more frequently since his reelection as mayor. There had been no formal announcement, but it was widely expected he would run for the next highest office. And to win would take more than charm and fiery speeches.

He offered the investor a one-on-one meeting in his office, as he did to any potential donor. Except, the investor demanded that they meet at a location of his choosing. Calling it a nonnegotiable requirement. If they didn’t meet where he wanted, there would be no donation. The mayor kindly refused and was about to end the call when the gruff voice revealed just how much money he was willing to commit.

They are to meet at a seltzer bar out in the sprawl. Caffeinated seltzer being a popular substitute for coffee and tea after they stopped appearing on shelves. In agreeing to meet, the mayor had set a limit of fifteen minutes. When the time is up, he will end the conversation and leave.

He purposely arrives two minutes late. The shop is quiet with only a handful of patrons seated near the front windows. He greets the soda-tender—a supporter who asks to take a selfie with the mayor—and then heads to the rear of the building where the investor said he would be waiting.

Remy Bruklov stands among an empty table with his hand outstretched. His eyes are wide and childlike, grinning from ear to ear.

He accepts the firm shake and is immediately on edge. Remy’s face does not match the photo from the background check his staff ran. It is less round, sharper. Eyebrows unruly. He is supposed to be in his mid-fifties and rakish, but this man seems younger and athletic.

He takes a seat across the table, pulling his chair farther away as he does so. Keeping his distance, though entertaining the possibility that the pictures he saw were dated. Same person or not, the fifteen minutes are ticking down. He decides to stay silent and let Remy (or whomever he is) speak first.

“Finally, a chance to discuss our relationship…”

“…seeking joint opportunities, we can fulfill a common vision…”

“…so much potential…” He repeats this three times in a row.

“…great things to come, but I know, I know, it must be your choice.”

Even if he had wanted to get a word in, he wouldn’t have found an opportunity.

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