Dark Guide

You know I hate it when I can’t find anything. Well, let me correct myself. I hate it when I am desperately looking for something and it’s the 9th hour and I have procrastinated looking until the last minute. Often it is also when I was too lazy to put things where they belong so that if the need arises in the future, I wouldn't be in the situation I am in right now. What is that you ask? I am about to lose my damned job, well, that is if I don't lose my mind first. Somehow I lost that dark guide. What is that you ask? It is a little black book that contains a lot of valuable information. My boss keeps track of everything in that book. I keep it locked in his office in the safe that looks like a stack of books on the bookshelf and as of 3 hours ago, it was not there.

Sigh.. let me back up. I need to first tell you that I am the only person in this business that has any business knowing the owner's business. There are only two of us with the codes to that safe and I know I did not leave it opened so that someone can just swipe that book. He keeps everything written down. Well , that is to say, I keep everything written down. I have to speak out loud to myself to keep from crying. I am not a chronic crying person but I am known to let tears flow in moments of stress.

I received a text message this morning that said "URGENT! Get dark guide, meet me at the coffee shop as soon as you close the office today. The text seemed to come from my boss. I got to work quickly before we opened to the public and I disarmed the alarm system and then all hell broke loose.

Okay, I just realized I am not clear at all. Let me back the hell up and let you know how I got in this state of crazed frenzied hyperventilating panic.

My name is Carmella Bordeaux. I am the youngest person to ever be hired as Mr. Trenchold's assistant. Mr. Trenchold is the most mysterious and powerful, not to mention, among the richest men in our small town. He is certainly one of the wealthiest. He owns the most prestigious law firm in town. He is also a silent partner of the largest accounting firm here AND of course, he s a member of the board of directors of Cardiff University. I was attending CU for what would be my very last semester. Mr. Trenchold was rather prominent for a board member. He was always on tv talking about the latest addition to the campus or how he secured another large sum of money to improve the dorms or build a new student union building when there is nothing wrong with the old one. You know, the kind of man that seemed to be everywhere all the time. Cardiff wasn't some booming metropolis like New York City, Chicago, or Los Angeles. Our population was around 130,000. I was getting very excited to be graduating. I majored in Elementary Education with a minor in Special Education. I was 200% that girl. You know, that nerdy chick that somehow got cool friends. Yup, that was me. Now I work for Mr. Trenchold as his assistant and that job fell on my lap or rather slapped me in the back.

I was at the coffee shop on 4th and Grapevine Street, exactly 1. 2 miles from my tiny studio apartment. It was in the springtime, mid-April and I was sitting at a small table near the big window facing the front door where if you sit there, you can watch all kinds of people walk by. It was the most perfect spot in the entire town to people watch if you ask me. People watching was something I always did. I am not very exciting so I love living vicariously through those lovely people I sit and watch as I enjoy a warm latte before I go to class. It wasn't very busy that morning but it seemed to calm me. Perhaps it was the days of my youth, visiting my grandmother in Mississippi. She had an old home with a tin roof and the rain tapped upon it loudly when it would rain. Somehow, it never bothered me. This was one such morning where I could almost imagine the rhythmic tap-tapping of the spring rain. I sat there minding my business when all of a sudden a not-so-pleasing cold sensation connected to my back. "SPLAT" a nice icy cold peach tea exploded in the center of my back and I yelped like a wounded dog, jumping up so fast, my seat headed across the floor.

‘Oh my gosh. Miss, I am so sorry. I tripped and sadly tossed my tea in your direction.! “ Please allow me to compensate you for your time and any dry cleaning or other expenses that result in this. Please know, I am deeply bothered and concerned I have ruined what appeared to be a good morning for you. “ As he spoke, I trembled. Sharon, the barista, ran to me with towels offering help and wiping my back dry while this older man kept apologizing.

I was unable to form words because I was just so shocked. I was so annoyed and probably about to speak up when the man handed me a business card and 2 crips $100 bills.

“ Harold Trenchold. .. please take this as compensation.”

“Who? Wait. THE Harry Trench?" You mean like owns half the city, Harry Trench?"

“Uhm. I don’t own that much of the city but yes, the people call me Harry Trench. What’s your name miss? If you are in a hurry, I can have my driver get you to where you need to go or even wait while you change and take you where you need to be. Just have him drive you around the rest of the day. I am sorry." He seemed genuinely upset. He turned to another man in the shop and said in the most certain tone. "Jackson, for the rest of the day, take care of Miss. Uhm. Miss.. what is your name?” He turned back to me as I gawked in disbelief.

"Carmella. Carmella Bordeaux. And I am late for class not work now. I need to go to class. Really, it's okay, I have a coat. I’m fine. I need to go. Nice to meet you Mr. Trenchold. "

I hurried out of the coffee shop, but before I could make it to the corner in that rain, a long sleek Bently pulls up beside the sidewalk and it is Mr. Trenchold demanding that I take a ride from him. It seemed a little strange, but I knew brushing him off more would only make him follow me. This guy probably owned the apartment building I lived in.

That was the part I didn’t like; living in a place where everyone is so regular that the real big shot people stick out like neon orange flags. By now, a small group of people were across the street staring at me. They were all interested in who was talking to Mr. Trenchold. He got out of the car and smiled at me.

"Miss Bordeaux, please get in the car and let me take you wherever you need to go. The rain is beginning to pour." I stepped back to decline again and dropped all of things. Mr. Trenchold helped me pick everything up. My notebooks had gotten a bit wet because they tumbled out of my tote bag. I shoved everything back in that tote and got into the car. We had a nice chat about my future and graduating soon and even about the little book store I worked at and just as we were pulling up to my apartment he hands me a business card.

"Miss Bordeaux. I am looking for a new assistant. You sound like a great candidate. You are organized, smart, kind, and ridiculously patient. I can't find anyone like that these days. Plus your degree is in education. I am working on a project to fund a new charter school for special needs children. I could use your input as a future teacher."

"Thank you for your generosity and kindness. I'll be just fine sir." I got out of the car, waved goodbye, and went into my apartment. I got inside and spread out my bag and then I saw it. I saw a ziplock bag, with something in it wrapped in foil. My first thought was, what the hell is that? It looked like someone's sub sandwich. I picked it up to toss it but it was not squishy like an old sandwich would be. It was odd. I grabbed gloves and opened it and almost fainted. It was cash. It was more cash than I had ever seen in my life. It was about $20,000. I was shaking and trembling and freaking out. In the middle of that money was a note that said, "Miss Bordeaux, congratulations. You are exactly who I need on my team. You graduate in three weeks. You may keep all of the money as a sign-on bonus if you are decide to come work for me. Also, guard this little book with your life. As my new assistant, you will need this guide. It is where I keep all of my secrets. " H.T.

I have worked for Mr. Trenchold, for nearly 5 years. I make a lot of money guarding all of his secrets and adding things to that sacred dark guide. Today it is missing and I surely hope it is not some weird game that my boss is playing to test my ability to handle stress. In the last five years, I have traveled the world, privately tutored his children, acted as his publicist when he kept firing them, and so many things. Sometimes I feel like he owes me. I didn't know what to do about this book but I know I have a collection of people I can contact to locate it and figure out this mystery. One thing I know for sure is that I don't want to tell the boss about this and I don't want to be in danger because of what I know to be in that book. I opened up the office as usual and pretended nothing was wrong as I logged onto my account and moved $20,000. It may be all I wind up walking away with if I don't find that book.