Ryder's Boys

by Cody Ryder

  “So…you’re getting shittier ingredients for cheaper?” Bruce asked.

  “Close. I’ll spare you the details, but it’s something like that. Our CFO has been the one making the biggest case for it, and I admit that I’d been fine with it at first. But it’s come to the point where I know that the company I founded will cease to exist soon. The values I started it on will be gone. Poof.”

  “I see.”

  “What I want to do is extremely risky. It’d most likely be expensive, and no guarantee that it would even pay off in the end. But I’ve always trusted my gut instinct, and it’s never failed me. And my gut tells me this is what I need to do. I want to take a gigantic step back. Downsize, in a way. Get rid of the corporate big wigs who I hired to be my advisors and key officers, and get the small guys running things again, just like things were at the beginning. And then…I want to reach out to my competition. One place, in particular. The stuff they offer is on a different level, but they’re kind of a hidden gem that’ll soon be pushed out by our growth. I want to rescue them, and use their product in my shops. Back to a quality, unique experience. No more cheap shit.”

  Bruce’s pulse raced, and he felt the anxiety creeping quietly on the horizon of his mind, but an overwhelming feeling of warmth and admiration for Joe eclipsed it. “That’s wonderful, Joe. I don’t think many in your position would do something like that.”

  Joe smiled. “The only problem is…putting the plan into action. There’s so much that’d need to go right—not to mention, the owner of that place would have to agree to my terms.”

  “Have you spoken to them?”

  “No. I haven’t had a chance to. I haven’t even met them yet.” He sighed. “I’ve dealt with shark investors. I’ve sat in boardroom meetings that meant the life or death of my company. I’ve done it all since I was just a college student. But the thought of facing them, of coming in there and making my offer…it terrifies me, I don’t know why.”

  “It’s possible they might not understand. Of course, they might not take it so easily,” Bruce said. “But you know, you have try. You’re trying to do the right thing. I’m proud of you for that.”

  Joe squeezed his hand. “I want this to work out. I think…it’d be like a new start. And I want to you to continue being a part of my life. I see this as the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I don’t want to walk alone anymore. I want you to be with me.”

  “I…feel the same way,” Bruce said softly, and he drew his hand around Joe’s neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

  The anxious thoughts still pulsed deep in Bruce’s mind. He was taking a step into a new life chapter as well, but he knew it meant that he had to fully close the current one—and he didn’t know what would happen if he did. Joe was strong; Bruce had learned that. His interior was as tough and weathered as his exterior. But himself…his fiery passion was his defensive shield—an expertly practiced parry, bob and weave that protected a soft and fragile soul.

  Thirteen

  “Whoah, whoah, whoah.” Lyle stood up from his chair and started to pace around office. Joe had expected this reaction; he just had to be persistent. He knew Lyle would be resistant, but he also sensed that this was something that Lyle wanted deep down inside, he just had to be guided to it. He could be swayed.

  “I know it’s a big request…” Joe started.

  “Asking me to move my family down to San Diego was a big request, Joe. One I was happy to fulfill. But now you’re asking me to move back? And take over CFO? I already told you that I couldn’t handle a position like that. Way too much pressure, bro. Way too much.”

  “Stop selling yourself short, Lyle,” Joe said, his tone clipped. “Man up.”

  Lyle stopped pacing and turned, his expression angry. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me to man up, Joe. I’m not selling myself short.”

  “Well, I think you are,” Joe replied. “I understand perfectly, Lyle. You’re comfortable with this position. It’s what you’ve been doing since we started this company—hell, before we started this company you were already a restaurant manager. You’ve never been one to push yourself too hard. You go just enough. Just enough. Well…” Joe stood up from his chair and started walking towards Lyle. “I know what you’re capable of. Are you telling me that you think you’ve gone your full potential? Be honest with me, man. Have you?”

  Lyle looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. “I couldn’t do it.”

  “You’re more than capable. We both know that Paul Whedon hasn’t got shit on you. You just haven’t gotten there yet. I know you could do it, Lyle. Sure, it’d be hard. But I know that you’re the only one who is capable of helping me get this company back to where it should be. It’ll be you and me, just like it always should’ve been. I don’t tell me you don’t miss the Bay. I know you’d rather be living there than here.”

  Lyle sighed, his posture relaxing. “Damnit, Joe.”

  “Think about, okay? Give it serious thought. I can’t do this without you, Lyle.”

  “This is a major risk, man. Even if I don’t fuck up somehow. The company could tank over this; we’d be going into uncharted territory. At least with Paul there was some guarantee. He brought market research, real numbers…”

  Joe waved his hand dismissively. “Fuck the numbers. We took a risk at the beginning with what we were offering. We had a quality and variety where so many others didn’t. We gotta take a risk. My gut tells me this will work.”

  Lyle stuffed his hands into his pockets and released out a long breath. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” Joe clapped him on the shoulder. It might take just a little more finessing, but otherwise he was now certain that Lyle would end up agreeing. “I’m going to LeFlorette’s today to try and finally meet with the owner.”

  “What happens if they’re not interested?”

  “It’d be a temporary setback. But I still plan to go ahead with what we discussed. Back to our roots.”

  Joe spent the rest of the morning sitting in his office trying to go over what he’d say to the owner of LeFlorette’s Coffee Shop, but his brain turned out nothing. He paced around the office, repeating the old mantras of confidence he used to use before meeting with prospective investors, but found them unhelpful. Why was he so nervous about this? It wasn’t like the fate of everything hinged on them agreeing to his offer—it would upset his plans, yes, but they weren’t dependent on it.

  No, of course it had nothing to do with the plans. It was something that had been absent all those times over the years where he’d coldly gone into his competitor’s shops and cafes. There’s only room for one to win in this game. That was his driving motto. His eyes were set on success, and their failure meant nothing to him. It didn’t even make him pause. But now… Now his conscious was finally involved, and he felt like shit.

  He wanted to call Bruce and get his reassurance, but decided not to. He looked at his watch. He was just dawdling now. After collecting his car keys off the desk, Joe headed out the door.

  He parked his car out in front of the coffee shop, and took a moment to check his hair in the mirror before heading up to the entrance. The shop was quiet inside, with a few customers enjoying a cup of coffee or a sandwich. It seemed to be the typical scene for the place, for every time he had come it had been like this. Not much traffic. Likely a far cry from its best years.

  The front counter was empty, and his heart started to race as went up to it and rang the little silver bell that sat next to the register.

  “Coming!”

  It was Julia’s voice from the back, and after a minute, she hurried out. Joe smiled at her. “Hi there,” he said pleasantly.

  “Joe!” she called in her typically bubbly voice. “Lunch for the office again? It’s just me again, so it might be a few minutes for a large order…”

  “Oh, no, actually,” he said. “No sandwiches today.” Though now that he was here and smelling them, he did really want one. “You’re alone? I mi
ssed the owner again, huh?”

  “Oh, my God. I’m sorry, how does this keep happening? He comes in in…” She glanced at the clock. “An hour.”

  “Okay,” he said, both slightly relieved and disappointed. “I can come back.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Joe turned around, and then paused. “Actually,” he said, fishing a business card case out from his pocket. “If you could give him my card. There’s a business proposition I’d like to make to him.”

  Julia gave Joe a confused look. “Business proposition?”

  She took the card from him, read it, and looked up at him in shock.

  “This is you?” she asked, her voice thin.

  “Yeah. I’m the CEO of—”

  Julia looked up at him, and he actually took a step back, his heart doing a flip in his chest. Her friendly, bubbly expression had changed to one of complete and utter hatred. Her glare pierced him like daggers.

  “Yeah, I know who you are. Is that why you’ve been coming here? To steal our recipes? Isn’t shutting down a family business fucking enough?” Her voice was low and intense, like she was doing everything in her power not to scream at him.

  Joe kept his cool. “No. That’s not it at all. I first came here because I wanted to learn about the neighborhood from a business who’d been here for a long time. I kept coming back because I genuinely fell in love with the place.”

  “So that’s what you do, huh?” She chuckled. “Okay. Come in and ask the veterans for advice, and then shut them down. You’re fucking garbage, you hear me? Fucking corporate filth.”

  Joe chewed the inside of his lip. Her words stung. He was used to criticisms, used to taking it on the chin, but he was feeling extra raw about that topic and it hit him hard. “Julia, I’m sorry that The Standard is causing trouble for your business. It was never my direct intention to push you out of business, but that’s just how things work, okay? But I want to try and make it right. I want to offer to help you guys. I want to keep what you’re doing here alive. Your recipes. Your techniques. The heart that’s here, I want to—”

  “Fuck. You,” Julia hissed. The customers in the store were starting to notice their argument, and were looking over. Julia jabbed a finger at the door. “Get out.”

  “Please,” Joe said. He couldn’t believe it, but he felt he was on the verge of begging. He never begged. “Just…give the owner my card. I’ll come back again to see him.”

  “Don’t fucking step foot in my store again,” she said. “We don’t need your help. Now get out.”

  Joe took a deep breath to say something more, and then stopped himself. He was fighting a losing battle. He turned and quietly left the store, the customer’s eyes all trailing after him. The bells jingled as he shut the door behind him.

  He quickly threw himself into his car, and pulled away. His hands were shaking.

  I have to go back again, he thought. I can’t let that discourage me.

  When he got back to The Standard, all Joe could manage to do was sit quietly in his office. An hour passed. Then two. He stared at his car keys, but couldn’t bring himself to leave. He’d expected that reaction, but he hadn’t been prepared for it.

  Fourteen

  It was difficult for Bruce not to think about anything other than Joe that Monday afternoon as he went through his work prep routine. He was okay with it though; he would much rather be distracted by those thoughts than by the usual dread. He only wished that business were booming. If business were booming, then everything would be perfect. He’d have love, he’d have stability, he’d feel complete.

  But would he have love?

  The thought then occurred to him that if LeFlorette’s was still successful, he might not have opened his heart to Joe. He’d been selfish, in a way. Protected. He’d not been willing, or even able to give himself to any romance.

  To imagine meeting Joe through the same circumstances, but have rejected him? To have rejected the attraction that had bloomed between them so quickly and easily? He’d already come close in reality. He imagined him and Joe, sitting across from each other in that class, not speaking. Maybe he eventually would’ve stopped going to the class. Then, they’d never see each other again. The thought hurt so much that tears started to well up in his eyes.

  He wiped them with the palm of his hand and pulled his car up to the front of the café. He was surprised to see Julia standing by the door. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest, and when she looked up at the sound his car, Bruce could see right away that something off had happened.

  “Hey, Julia,” he said, getting out of the car. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, Bruce,” she said. “I just stepped out for a minute. I just needed some air.” She chewed on her thumbnail, something that Bruce only saw her do when she was really stressed or angry, which was hardly ever.

  “Are there any customers inside?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Come on, let’s go in. What happened?”

  Bruce made them both a cup of coffee as Julia recounted what had happened to her just an hour before, and by the end he felt numb. That man had been coming in to their shop, eating their food and enjoying their hospitality? He could hardly believe it. It just didn’t seem real. The Standard was a Northern California based company too; what was he doing down here?

  He passed her the cup of coffee. “What did he want?” he asked. “Why did he wait so long to tell you who he was?”

  “I don’t know, but from the first day that he showed, he’d been wanting meet you. He told me he had some kind of business offer to make.”

  Bruce frowned.

  “I think he’s just trying to use us. He seemed to genuinely enjoy the sandwiches. I have a feeling he thinks he can take advantage of a vulnerable family business, get them to sign some contract and then profit off them. That’s how these corporate fucks work. He’s probably done it before.” She banged the counter so hard that the cups seemed to bounce a foot in the air. “Fuck! It makes me so angry.”

  Bruce felt troubled. This wasn’t adding up. Then, he thought back to the conversation he’d had with Joe the night before. His heart was pounding so hard that he decided he’d better not drink the coffee.

  It’s just a coincidence. But why was there that nagging feeling in his gut?

  There are dozens of restaurants across San Diego that could be his.

  Besides, wasn’t the owner of The Standard named Lyle something? Lyle Jordan, maybe? Bruce had purposely avoided committing his name to memory.

  It was just a coincidence.

  “I told him to never come back,” Julia said. “I’m sure he’ll be back though. He left his card. I was going to tear it up, but…I thought maybe you’d want to see it.”

  She pulled out a crumpled white business card from her pocket and set it onto the counter in front of him. Bruce picked it, and slowly unfolded it.

  Fifteen

  Joseph Jordan

  CEO – The Standard Coffee Co.

  555-4526 joseph@thestandard.com

  Bruce’s mind whirled. No, he pleaded. It’s just a coincidence. It has to be. Joseph is such a common name. It’s gotta be a coincidence. Please, please…

  “Bruce? What’s wrong? God, you’ve gone all pale. Bruce.”

  He held up his hand. “I need to sit down for a second.”

  Images from their weekend together flashed through his mind. He saw Joe and his smile; he felt his warm touch on his skin and the soft press of his lips against his own. He could smell his delicious fragrance, as if he was right there with him again. He felt that incredible well of happiness burning so brightly inside, surrounding every memory. That couldn’t be him…

  “Julia, the guy that I’ve been seeing…”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, God. You’re thinking… No, Bruce. Come on, that makes absolutely no sense. Why would you jump to that conclusion?”

  “I spent the weekend at his house,” he said.
“I made him agree that we’d keep as many details out of our relationship for now.”

  “You don’t even know his last name?”

  “No. But I do know that he works in the restaurant industry. He’s not a tech mogul like we thought.”

  “Okay, but that still doesn’t mean—”

  “There was something that he told me last night. Business plans. He told me he was going to reach out to a rival company. One that was struggling because of him.”

  “Oh, my God,” Julia whispered. “You really think he could be this Joseph Jordan?”