Julian is Back...Ugh

            It has come to my attention that, in regards to my goal of making a million dollars, well, I am far from it.  Julian, my buddy whom I made the bet with, has actually been away for a while, but my goal, which wasn’t at the forefront of my mind, was the first thing he brought up to me.

            He said something along the lines of, “So you’re pretty close to being a millionaire by now, huh?”

            When I told him what I had saved he just laughed at me.  It’s funny how much we’ve both changed since he went away and how little I feel connected to him. Anyway, I’m much more committed to accumulating $1,000,000 by the end of the year than I was before I talked to Julian, so I guess that’s a good thing.  

JS

New Office

            I’m pretty freaked out again.  It seems that my mom, who has been relying on the professional relationship Don for many years now, is no longer working with him.  I think she had some concern relating to what he does and her own safety, and she thought it best to cut out contact.  This puts me in a strange position, still being employed by him.   I emailed Don, inquiring about a new place for me to work so my mother wasn’t part of my professional experience and I’m going to start working out of an office in downtown Manhattan.  Who knows what’s next…

My First Pick-Up

My biggest fear has come to fruition.  Since Don has employed me, he has never asked anything but accounting-related-tasks.  I know that, in his potion, there are countless ‘tasks’ that need to be done, and in this business, no one really has defined roles.  Today, he left a message on my machine asking me to go to midtown and “pick up a package” for him.
I was nervous through the entire train ride.  I didn’t know whom I would be meeting or what he or she would give me.  I even had thoughts of being set up, that Don had no more use for me and wanted me killed.

I was surprised to see that there was a fed-ex at the address I had been given and there was just one, small package.  It was definitely smaller than a toaster, although considerably less heavy.  I brought the package to Don and that was that. 

Even though I’m happy that I didn’t encounter anything life threatening, I am afraid that Don is going to assign me more of these day-to-day tasks.  It’s not that I am lazy, or wouldn’t accept them eagerly from another employer; it’s that Don’s day-to-day tasks are probably less “clean” than I would like. I really don’t want to end up being connected to any criminal activity.  We’ll see…

JS

A Couple Great Weeks

            It has been almost two weeks since I found that newspaper article and it feels like forever ago.  You know, I look around me, at what I am doing and who I am working for, and honestly, it doesn’t bother me.  I can’t continue to pretend like I don’t see it, like my mom does.  I work for ‘the mob,’ plain and simple.  Last week, I saved my boss a lot of money and I’m starting to get a reputation as sort of the guy who will get you out of a bind, when it comes to taxes. 

            I really like how I’m looked at, at the weekly meetings (I can’t tell you more about them).   I feel powerful and respected.  For the first time in my life, even if the ends aren’t so great, I feel like I am a part of something, like I am making a contribution and that I am of value to someone.  And I am making great money, what is there to complain about really?

Concerning

I knew it would come to this.  I knew that it was too good to be true.  I knew I couldn’t escape the fact that I was working with a bad person with bad ends, but it has started.  Don has two other accountants with whom I am in constant communication, Jim and Thomas.  Jim is actually Don’s cousin, but Thomas, like me was hired from outside the family.  I found this clipping in the Times:

Update

           I've had very little time recently, Don has me working nonstop.  We have 35 small businesses through which our operations happen and I am responsible for all of the books for the companies in Brooklyn and two in Manhattan, so essentially I am the accountant for 7 businesses now!  It's a lot of responsibility but also a lot of money.
           The best thing about working for Don is that I am not legally connected to anything.  He has me listed as a consultant and all I do is merely "make suggestions" while in reality I am doing the books.  I've also been able to solve a few of the mysteries that have arose before I started working for Don.
         Cut and dry: Don launders money through a massive network of New York City businesses, including the one I grew up next to and my mom's dance studio.  Don and my mom have been working together for over three years; my mom accepts a lump sum of money quarterly from Don, in exchange for his access to her financial statements.  It's sketchy, I know, but it paid for my college...

What Happened?

            Ok, wow, putting what just happened into words is going to be hard, but here goes.  Last night I talked to my mom about what I knew, or thought I knew.  She denied all of it, maintaining that Don was just a consultant and that she knew nothing about his involvement with a “mob.”  She told me that she was paying me out of her pocket and that I should trust her more.

            But this morning, I heard her screaming on the phone, saying things like “I’ll talk to him” and “please don’t come.”  About two hours ago there was a knock on the door.  I opened it and he said, “Jeremy?”

            I nodded and then woke up in my mom’s back room, where she keeps the studio’s supplies.  I tried to move but was tied to the chair I was in.  The man must have heard me because he came in as soon as I was awake. 

            “Your mother tells me that you’ve learned some interesting things about this business recently,” the man said.  I tried to respond but he spoke over me as soon as I opened my mouth, “You have two options Jeremy.  The first, you take what’s in my hand and become my employee.” 

            “Or you’re going to kill me?”  I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

            The man lowered his face to mine.  I could smell alcohol on his breath as he whispered “Precisely.”

            So I took the envelope and he told me he would be emailing me instructions within 24 hours.  But the thing is, it wasn’t completely horrible after I agreed to work for him.  Here’s what was in the envelope:

            Maybe working for this guy is the best way to reach my million-dollar goal…