29 Game of Houses (1/2)

The conference was long, I didn't know what possessed me to sit there, but the familiarity of Mr. Butler sitting next to me and jotting down points from the various talks was comforting. There was a sense of banality that visiting tourist spots every day couldn't bring me. I had not worked with Mr. Butler for long enough to feel a sense of belonging, but it was this, accompanying someone to a conference, listening intently so that I can reiterate in a different language and then somehow internalizing that knowledge without meaning to. It was a habit by then that couldn't be replaced by mundane paperwork and traversing through busy streets.

I found myself enticed, I flipped the notepad open (customary for any respectable conference) and started scribbling whatever questions I had. I remained silent when the panel discussed, I didn't ask any questions. It would be embarrassing to come off as ignorant in such a high profile conference. Mr. Butler spared me many a glance, sometimes coaxing me to go ahead and ask. I didn't understand why he wanted me to look foolish, but it was probably because he thought that me having an interest in his stream of study would make it easier for him to lure me into being his assistant.

Assistant…

I didn't need to go to college for another degree.

It was just an extension of what I had learned in school.

I could do it temporarily.

'No,' I reminded myself. I referred back to all the devastating scenarios that could be made possible by one stupid mistake. I stopped myself from further contemplation, choosing to focus on a paper on unethical interrogation techniques.

.

My suitcase remained packed in my hotel room. I was inside the car with Mr. Butler, following him to his apartment complex where he ensured me there were plenty of apartments up for rent. He also promised that I would love the location and the view, but I doubted much of that would matter or would be within my budget.

As he had said, the community was gated. With a registration booth and guards checking every car that entered. It was also pleasing to see them ask for my ID even though I had entered with a resident. I had learned of the beautiful pathways and facilities of this place, the reviews were glowing, and I had zero hope of being capable of living in such a fancy place.

Mr. Butler guided me to the building manager's office who seemed delighted upon seeing me. The woman was in her late forties, clearly bored as she at her desk as an unfriendly resident reiterated their paranormal experiences. I saw Mr. Butler glance at me surreptitiously at the mention, but he seemed pleased by how unfazed I was.