Retirement dealer

I don’t know how it happened.
I used to work for an insurance company, and more specifically I was dealing with drafting up retirement plans, and also convincing people to apply for said plans.
Slowly, I got rather good at it.
Even while keeping some moral sanity to my person, and not ripping poor elderly individuals of off their savings.
I really befriended a couple of them, and got along with them.
I considered myself an old soul, and this job proved me right.
Soon, I found myself specifically asked for drafting retirement plans for friends of friends, and not even a decade into the field, I managed to create a company dealing solely with this.
I don’t know how it spiraled down to it, but I am pretty sure that I created a village with the men and women that came for my help.
Maybe even more than a village.
It was blissful.
At merely 30 something, I had a beautiful wife, a good career, and enough money to send my kids to the best schools possible.
And then, of course, the dream had to shake up a bit.
One of my good friends, a retired old lady and her husband, spilled the tea.
They were ex-mob accountants, running from the shadows and planning to live their lives in peace.
“Why are you so surprised sweetie?
Don’t you think it was odd that we had so many friends with so much money?
Also, seriously, almost all of your clients were and will be of such…backgrounds.”
She laughed, as they left.
At first I didn’t know what to do.
Should I run?
Should I go to the cops?
Should I actually do something?
And my wife gave me the right answer, as she usually does.
“You just do your job, and help people.
What’s the fuss about?”
She shrugged.
And so I did.
I continued helping friends of friends settle, plan for retirement, and actually retire, and I was happy.
My kids never got bullied.
And their businesses flourished, while any ill-willer somehow always…disappeared.
And by the time it was time for us to retire…
I had an entire community that had my name etched into its history, as a grand helper, and benevolent soul, without whom the place wouldn’t exist.
My new neighbors were old clients, and friends, each more eccentric than the other.
But frankly..
I enjoyed it, and so did my wife.
So our lives have continued peacefully, other than occasionally, I had to return to my old status.
And as the Retirement Dealer, as the community called me, had to solve an issue or two for a new individual to enter the gates of our neighborhood…

Published by omnithenerva

Wannabe fiction writer. In love with mythology, and fantasy themes.

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