The Applicant Role

If walls could talk, Thomas Maverick’s small private existence would be made public, giving gossip pages enough information forcing printer ink to restock.

Sitting inside his castle waiting for a scheduled appointment the aristocratic heir wondered, ‘what this option would be to buy?’ According to the business page review, she came from royal blood generations ago, and knew how to spin a story.

These luring attributes made Thomas interested in the applicant who responded to an advertisement and sent a resume headshot.

Wearing the single lifestyle silk dinner jacket Thomas put down his pipe and rose to a standing position when the bell rang, “I’m coming,” he screamed before outstretching his arm, and opening the wooden door.

“Are you Mr. Maverick?”

“Yes, I am, are you Prophecy the Princess of Profit?”

“That is my headline stage title,” Prophecy confirmed, “if we cut a deal, I will give you my birth certificate.”

Taking a step back, Thomas welcomed the visitor and directed the guest into a special room featuring paintings on each wall, “go ahead take a seat, Prophecy, the Princess of Profit.”

Fixing her skirt, the lady sat gently on the judgement seat while affluent success occupied the executive leather chair behind the desk.

“You want to be a part of my life,” Thomas smirked, “you want to come into my space and start making decisions during my fantasy trips,”

“Actually, you looked at my picture, thought I was a good match, and contacted me,”

“Point, well taken,” Thomas agreed noticing the Leonard original portrait straight ahead staring at him,

“Thomas,” the wall spoke, “who is she?”

“Yeah,” the rich dame photograph on another wall added, “you run a risky business, do you really want a Princess in our hall?”

Brushing off the commentary Thomas kept the real-world conversation going, “now your royal highness, you know you would be living here in this castle not the one you are accustomed too.”

“Anything beats the Kings Castle Amusement Club,” Prophecy explained, “I have been dealing cards there, Tarot ones for the longest time.”

“And you would like to be my personal soothsayer,”

“That is the prophecy,” she giggled.

For the next half hour, the two had a lively discussion and when finished the philanthropist thanked the lady before escorting the intriguing prospect to the exit.

When outside the Princess of Profit stuck out her hand, “you owe me twenty bucks,”

Giving the traveler a quizzical look, Prophecy needed to explain, “you said you would cover the cab fee.”

Remembering the offer Thomas grabbed Andrew Jackson’s green image and handed it to the businessperson, “yes, of course and I will be in touch.”

Returning inside Thomas headed back to the study where he sat down, computer already googling,

“So, are you going to the dirty sites again?” The rich dame inquired, “Isn’t that where you got that one?” “Rich dame,” Thomas’ blood pressure increased, “I got that one from a reliable source,”

“Who?” The Rich Dame pushed for an answer.

“A gentleman wearing a crown down at Kings Castle Amusement Club,”

“Are you sure he was just not the pinball wizard making potions that would make you do stupid things,” “That is enough,” Leonard exclaimed, “I listened to the nice girl, and I think she has what it takes,”

“To do what?” The Rich Dame honestly asked.

“To bring some pleasure to this place,”

“Men!”

A week later while filing papers Prophecy, the Princess of Profit saw an office decoration change. Leonard still hung proudly at his post, but the Rich Dame seemed missing, and, in its place, a new character graced the gallery.

“Do you like it?” Thomas Maverick appeared.

“What happened to the Rich Dame?”

“Sold her off,” Thomas replied, “at the neighbors’ yard sale.”

“Who is that?”

“It’s you silly,” Thomas chuckled.

“Where did you get the photograph?”

“Downloaded it from the Kings Castle Amusement Club website,” Thomas mentioned, “I really hope you enjoy your stay here Princess; you know the walls always are talking, your royal highness.”