The Greatest Spiritual Secret of the Century Read Online Free

lenses. Rich’s hair was short and corporate, but still an unruly mass of light brown waves.
    â€œHi, Paul,” Rich said, a touch of reserve in his voice that Paul took to imply he’d interrupted something. “What’s up?” He glanced at the abraded side of Paul’s face and added, “What happened to you?”
    â€œOh, nothing,” said Paul. “I fell on the street, up on Madison. Pushed some kid out of the way of a truck”
    â€œPlaying the hero?” Rich smiled. “Maybe we should sue the trucker”
    Paul smiled and shrugged. “It was really no big deal. Got a minute? This won’t take long”
    Rich stepped back and waved into the room. “Come right in.”
    Paul walked into Rich’s living room, which was decorated in black leather, glass, and chrome. It smelled of pot and shampoo and leather. Signed Dali prints adorned the walls, and the carpet was a startling pure eggshell white. A big-screen TV dominated the far corner, near the window out over the balcony, and in a chair next to it sat a stunning blonde woman, wearing only a silk bathrobe with a dragon embroidered down one side. Her hair was damp, and she looked like she was in her very early twenties. She looked Paul up and down quickly, and turned on a professional smile, all teeth and eyes, and said, “Hi!”
    Flustered, Paul said, “Hi,” and turned to Rich. “I didn’t realize you had company…”
    â€œNo problem,” Rich interrupted. “Paul, this is Cheryl. Cheryl, Paul. Paul is my next-door neighbor, a hot-shot reporter for the Tribune.” He turned to Paul and said, “Cheryl is a model and student at FIT.” FIT, Paul knew, was the Fashion Institute of Technology, just down the block at 27 th Street between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, and a magnet that drew beautiful women from all over the world…a fact not lost on Rich when he was deciding where in Manhattan to live. Plus, the neighborhood was experiencing a bit of a renaissance, with lots of trendy restaurants, bars, clubs, and shops opening. Great places to meet the women from FIT.
    Rich sat down in a chair next to Cheryl, and gestured Paul to the black leather couch that faced the window. “Would you like a drink?”
    â€œI think I’ll pass,” Paul said. “I don’t want to interrupt you two…”
    â€œWe just took a shower,” Rich said with a wink. “I’ve got to head back to the office in a few hours, so we’re going to dinner at Krour Thai after this drink” Defining the parameters of the time available to Paul, which was to say very little.
    â€œWell,” Paul said, “I left the Tribune today.”
    â€œHey!” Rich said, standing up and saluting with his glass. “Congratulations!” He took a sip, while Cheryl watched with a Siamese-cat expression on her face. Paul often wondered who was the user and who was the used; the women Rich picked up often seemed far more intelligent—or at least far wiser—than Rich himself.
    â€œYeah, well, it wasn’t something I’d probably have chosen. We had a disagreement about the meaning of the phrase ‘work ethic’”
    Rich raised his right eyebrow. “They thought seventy hours a week was too little?”
    â€œThey thought it was too much. I was making people nervous”
    â€œAh, so. Same in the law. Build your alliances first, line up your allies. Establish your empire. Then you go for the jugular/’ Rich sat back down, nodding his headlike a wise old man who’d seen it all. “So now you’ve learned a good lesson and you’re free for a new beginning.”
    â€œI guess so. Somewhere out there is a newspaper who’s not afraid to hire a real investigative reporter. In the meantime, though, I’m a little tight, cash-wise. So I was wondering if you knew of any opportunities at your firm for part-time work.