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Man of Fantasy
Man of Fantasy
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Man of Fantasy

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He, Duncan and Kyle had set up a synchronized computer program where the building’s reception desk knew all their schedules at a glance. His offices took up the top floor in the renovated brownstone, Kyle’s law practice the second floor and Duncan’s tax-and-financial services the first floor. The street-level space was converted to include a kitchen, dining room, games room and gym for the building’s employees. He shared equally in the salaries for the receptionists and cleaning staff.

“You had Ahmed Daniels for five, but he called to say he had to meet with his probation officer.”

“Did he reschedule?”

“No, Dr. Campbell.”

“Leave a message for Chantal to call Ahmed and reschedule ASAP.”

“Chantal didn’t come in today. She called to say she had a fight with her baby’s daddy last night, and he wouldn’t take care of Kassim, so she had to try to find another babysitter.”

Chantal came with excellent office skills, but it was her personal life that was in disarray. Her on-again, off-again relationship with her son’s father was beginning to affect her job performance. Her punctuality and attendance had received a less than favorable rating on her last evaluation.

“Don’t schedule anyone else for today, and if there is an emergency, refer them either to Dr. Kelly or the hospital. What does Thursday look like?”

“You have a full calendar. Your first appointment is at ten and your last is scheduled for eight.”

Originally Ivan had set aside Tuesday for his late night, but then switched to Thursdays because patients tended not to keep their Friday appointments, which prompted him to work late and take Fridays off.

“If Chantal calls, please tell her that I must talk to her before I go into session tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, Dr. Campbell.”

Ivan hung up, then called Nayo back. “I’m free for tonight.”

“What time do you want to get together?”

“I’m still at the college. It should take me about half an hour to get home.”

“Why don’t I plan to see you in, say, an hour and a half?”

“That works fine,” he agreed.

“Ivan?”

“Yes, Nayo.”

“You don’t have to cook.”

He affected a Cheshire-cat grin. “What if I order in?”

“That’ll work. I’ll see you ninety minutes.”

Ivan pressed a button, ending the call. He would get to see Nayo sooner than planned, but there was still the problem with his secretary he had to resolve. Chantal’s salary was comparable to someone working for a major downtown corporation, because she was the sole support for herself and her son. The young woman complained that her son’s father was unemployed, so he wasn’t able to contribute to the child’s support. The man supposedly made up for his lack of funds by babysitting the child when his mother was at work. Now that that arrangement had soured, Ivan knew it was time for Chantal to see about enrolling two-year-old Kassim in day care. Either she followed through with his recommendation, or he would be forced to terminate her employment.

Unlike Duncan and Kyle, he ran a bare-bones practice. An intern enrolled in the psychology program at City University New York’s Graduate Center came in twice a week to do intakes and assessments. Chantal was responsible for scheduling, inputting case notes and following up with patients mandated by schools and the court-and-criminal-justice system.

Kyle and his law partner, Jordan Wainwright, had expanded their thriving practice, adding a law clerk to a staff that included an office manager and full- and part-time paralegals.

Duncan Gilmore, his part-time accounting student and full-time executive assistant had established a reputation in the Harlem community based on good faith and honesty.


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