The Biggest Contract of My Life
Admittedly, I was scared. I was a terrible person to live with. The stress of dealing with such a huge contract totally overwhelmed me and I probably lost a couple of friends during the endless negotiation.
Still, I did my best. I should have known something was wrong the first time I met them. Although they were husband and wife, they behaved like two UFC fighters inside the mesh cage, final round, 2 minutes in. She was very strange with her expressionless face. She seemed detached, distracted by something more important. And, he had the weirdest eyes. He looked at you but through you at the same time. Quite chilling.
Anyway, I did my sales pitch (which I’d spent a long time preparing) and they seemed to be slowly warming up, at least with me if not with each other. So, I left our first meeting with a little glimmer of hope.
What I didn’t know was that they were in their fifth month of smashing each other with mutual legal writs. There were threats and counter threats. A fight to the death. And, I’d walked into the middle of it. Totally ignorant, I plowed on.
I used MercurySays with each email interaction and got some unexpected insights and great recommendations. It certainly got me through this toughest of all negotiations but, after a while, it was clear that his messages, particularly, were … peculiar. I think MercurySays was a bit shocked, if a computer program can be.
I truly worked myself to a point of madness on that contract. It was a lifeline for me and a chance to really make a name for myself.
Anyway, it seemed that my final proposal suited both of them and, after she called me, I drove over to their home, contract in hand.
When I arrived, I noticed there were lots of cars parked around their house. And, I mean, lots. They were all police cars. Lights flashing. People yelling. Sirens wailing in the distance.
Tentatively, I walked towards the house. The cops stopped me and started asking questions. They soon figured why I was there, took my name and address, and that was the end of it.
The full story came out during the trial. The guy with the weird eyes had hired 5 thugs to kidnap his wife. Unfortunately, their van had struck a pedestrian a block or so from the house when they panicked and tried to make a run for it. They were arrested, the kidnapping plot was quickly uncovered, and, as I stood outside the house, contract in hand, the cops brought him out: cuffed, scuffed, and his life definitely stuffed. I plaintively held up the document as he walked by, and I still remember the look on his face. He glanced at the contract. He looked eager. I knew he wanted to sign. But, unfortunately, mine wasn’t the only contract he’d been working on at the time. His eyes were still weird.
The TV news reported a few months later that he would spend from here to eternity in prison.
A week or so later, I got a call. It was from that strange woman who, by now, was the convict’s ex-wife. She asked if the deal was alive. Did I have a copy of the contract? Was the other party still willing?
She signed it the next day. Before I left, I plucked up the courage to ask what happened to the five thugs who tried to abduct her. With thin lips, she grimaced in a blank, pitiless way, sending chills to my heart. Looking into the distance, she said: “I promised them a good lawyer and they’re all out now. They’re happy. And, I’ve signed the deal, so I’m happy. And, you’ve got your commission. So, I guess you’re happy, too. So, everyone’s happy.”
I thought, well, not everyone.