avarice

noun

1. extreme greed for wealth or material gain

The cheque cleared and Wallace came back with approval for the business plan, just giving me one or two pointers for suggestions for change. The main one being the initial company set up. He believes I need to set up an incorporated umbrella company that becomes my signature platform that all of my other business ideas and start-ups that I sell come under. The main reason he suggested this was so that every time I sell a business, the umbrella company will gain more reputation, causing the overall company to add value to each and every business or product sold. The added reputation will add monetary value to subsequent sales. It will become my brand name in a sense.

I really like that idea, so that one thing I'm setting up today. Now that I have some money. First thing first, paying Wallace back for his kindness in paying for the medical bills.

That's where Grant comes in. I need to go shopping for thank you gifts and I need to 'collect' or rather rescue my first employee or crony. Grant doesn't count. He's paid by the estate and he's already my friend.

I dress up slightly semi-formal today, with a cross my heart three quarter sleeve teal blouse tucked into a black flowy skirt. I needed something that looked professional but didn't show off my panties when I had one leg in a knee brace and the other not. Sitting down was going to be a riot in an a-line or mini skirt.

As it was, getting into and out of the town car wasn't easy. But at least I had crutches to use. Grant came around the car and helped me in, then settled me in before getting in and driving me off the estate.

"Does your mum know you're out and about?" Grant hasn't spoken much to me since I came home from the hospital. It's good to hear his voice.

"Nope. But I have some business to take care of and needed to get out of the mansion for a breather."

"You doing OK? How's your knee?"

"Yup, yup," as Jack would say. "Knees healing up. Not taking the pain killers unless I'm trying to sleep now."

"So, where we off to on your secret mission?"

"Picking up a thank you gift for Wallace then delivering it to his office. Then off on a rescue mission, then a late night dinner at a diner somewhere before home. We cool?" He nodded that he understood, then gave me a good suggestion.

"Ring to make sure Wallace is in the office before you plan to meet him there. He's a busy man." I thanked him for his suggestion then called Wallace asking if he'd be in his office in an hour. That would be about the say time that Eyva would get in there straight from school. Perfect timing.

"Yes, I'll be in. See you then," was all Wallace said then he hung up.

"Easy peasy!"

"So, where to first? Driver need directions." Grant smiled at me in the rear vision mirror.

"The antique store on West Avenue, please." He gave me a weird look then drove us out of the estate.

Elder's Antiques on West Ave was probably one of the oldest established antiques in the city. Its been around longer than anyone can remember and is the go-to place for end of estate sales or old people's drop off's. Not the people, their old gear.

Grant helped me out of the car and balance while I slipped my arms into the new crutches. Black chrome looking things that suited me well. The store was street level, so we didn't have to go far.

"What are you looking for? Can I help you find it?"

"I'm looking for a particular brass theodolite, a tool that olden day engineers used to use for survey work. I'm not sure if the store even has what I'm looking for, but I'd like to get one for Wallace, as his first company was an engineering company. Both him and his father have engineer degrees so I thought it would be a nice gift."

"Yeah, I can see how awesome that would be to give the guy who has everything." Grant nods and helps me into the store by holding the doors open.

"Good afternoon, young lady. How can I help you today?"

"Hi there. Would you mind showing me if you have any brass theodolites, circa 1900s please?" I'm actually after a particular brass theodolite that has the initials M.O. engraved on the side of one of the leg clamps. It should be in its original box as well with cleaning cloths and an empty bottle of brass cleaning fluid. M.O. would stand for Morris Overmeyer, Wallace's grandfather.

"That's a very specific request. Let me have a look. We keep the nautical compasses, telescopes, sextants and similar equipment over through here. I can see you're on crutches so let me take a look and I'll bring back what I find." The older gentleman smiled as he made his way through the shelves of old records, the furnishing from yesteryear, and the collections of old bottles. He found what was requested and brought it back to the counter where I was waiting.

"Yes, we had this come in a number of years ago. I think you are the first to enquire about it. The box is most likely the original. Would you like to examine it?"

I nodded my head affirmative, and pulled out the heavy brass instrument. Carefully looking all over the piece, I found the engraved M.O. on the side of one of the tri-stands where it connected to a tripod.

"You don't happen to have the tripod to go with it?"

"No, I believe that was sold not long after it came in here. A pity really."

"Can I buy this please?"

"Yes, certainly." The store man took the theodolite back and placed it in the box that had seen better days. He rang it up for $3000.00 saying he was giving me discount of $400 because he was happy to see it go to a new home. Once the payment went through, he placed the whole thing in tissue paper then into a paper bag and handed it over to Grant for him to carry for me.

"Thank you very much." I waved goodbye to the sales man who then asked me to pop in again soon.

"Next stop, Overmeyer Office, please Grant." And off we went.

The Overmeyer Office is a huge building down town, basically the largest building in the whole city. Its not easy to miss. Grant takes us down to the company car park and with his credentials we're able to park close to where the top boss parks, right next to the elevators. Without going through the rigmarole of signing in at the reception on the ground floor, Grant's ID card can swipe us onto any floor in the building. Which is great, because I'm still on crutches.

"Hi, is Mr Overmeyer available, please?" We both walk up to the main receptionist on the 50th floor where the whole floor is dedicated to Mr Overmeyer and his immediate subordinates.

"Do you have an appointment." It wasn't a question. It was like the hot blonde secretarial staff member had guessed that someone like me couldn't possibly have an appointment with the great and powerful Oz. I mean, Overmeyer.

"No, I don't but..." She didn't even let me finish my sentence before kicking me out.