Cliff shook his head. “It's okay to have Riteway on the sign, but the biggest letters must say, ‘Dad's Place'. And I want it to be a lighted sign."
"They're all internally lighted,” Bud said. “I'll see if I can get ‘Dad's Place’ on the sign, but the company may not do it. I can't promise."
"No ‘Dad's Place’ means no deal."
"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Baker.” Bud smiled. “Now, of course, we want a covered island and we can put credit card readers on the pumps. Your customers won't even have to come inside."
"We're not going to be using a sophisticated cash register system, and besides, we want the customers to come inside."
"Of course,” Bud said, writing a note on his pad. He glanced at the closed bay door. “I noticed a work bay when I got here. You going to be making oil changes and minor mechanical work?"
"Probably."
"We can give you a good deal on oil, tires and standard parts like radiator hoses and windshield wipers. The tires and parts are a part of our consignment package."
"What's this going to cost us?"
Bud glanced at his notes. “Like I said, the tires and parts are on consignment. You pay for them after the sale. Removing the old tanks, installing the new ones, the pumps and signage—that's going to run you forty thousand."
Cliff sputtered. “We can't afford that."
"If you agree to an exclusive contract, we'll spread the payments over a ten year period with no interest. That makes it only four thousand a year."
"What's the gas and oil going to cost?"
"Three, maybe four thousand."
"Whew. I didn't realize it was going to cost so much to get cranked up. I'll have to run these figures by my partners."
Bud stuffed the pad in his hip pocket. “Of course. I'll bring you a written offer, contract really, late this afternoon or first thing in the morning. You folks study it and when you're ready, give me a call."
"If we decide to sign a contract with you, how long will it take to get everything done?"
"A week should do it, but when that week starts depends on the availability of our crews."
"You have any idea when they might be available?"
Bud shook his head. “I'll find out and let you know when I bring the contract."
The two men shook hands and Cliff watched the salesman drive off in the direction of Dot in his shiny silver and black Taurus. He remembered the Brillo pads, retrieved them from his truck and returned to the restaurant.
"What's that racket?” he asked Roger, who was working behind the counter.
Roger nodded towards a swinging door. “Ally's doing something in the back room."
"The dishwasher works!” she shouted.
Cliff frowned when he realized Roger was cleaning the gas grill. “I thought we were going to wait on that until we find out if the damn thing works."
Roger dropped his eyes. “I'm sorry, Cliff. It isn't all that dirty and won't take but an hour or so. Ally wants me to go to Dot for pizza about noon and I thought I'd pick up some light bulbs for the chandeliers and varnish for the booths. Until then, I don't have anything else to do."
"Hell, Roger. We haven't even started cleaning the store."
"I'm sorry, Cliff. I'll get on it right away."
"Hey, you guys own the place?” A young man clad in hunter green shirt and slacks stood in the entranceway.
"More or less,” Cliff responded as Ally came through the swinging door, grinning from ear to ear.
"Name's Dave Doogin,” the man said as he approached. “I'm with Allen Wholesale Supply."
"What's Allen Wholesale Supply?” Ally asked as she poked Cliff in the ribs. “Do you believe it,” she said under her breath. “The old dishwasher works like a charm."
"Ma'am,” Dave replied, “we can fix you up with just about everything you need for the store from snacks to greeting cards to canned goods."
"Somebody must have left the door open,” Cliff muttered.
"As a matter of fact,” Dave replied, “it was open. I saw all the activity and thought I'd drop in."
"You handle beer and soft drinks?"
Dave smiled. “Almost everything but. You have to go to the individual companies or distributors for beverages."
"What's it going to cost us?” Cliff asked.
"Depends."
"On what?” Ally asked.
"On what you stock and how you choose to pay for it."
"Fella, we have more on our plates than we can chew right now. Maybe you should come back next week,” Cliff suggested.
"Let me give you my card,” Dave said. “I work on commission and your business is important to me. I promise we can give you as good a deal as anybody and I'll give you better service than the other guys."
"Hold on, Cliff. Let's hear what the man has to say.” Ally turned to Dave and asked, “What do you recommend?"
"Well, we can sit down and go over a product list or you can trust me to stock the store using my experience and best judgement. Here's the thing. If something doesn't sell well, I'll take it out and give you credit. It doesn't help either one of us if a product sits on the shelf gathering dust."
"Things are moving a little fast, Dave,” Cliff injected. “We don't have much capital to work with."
"What's our cut?” Ally asked.
Dave chose to answer Ally. “Depends."
Ally snickered. “That seems to be your favorite word."
"If you buy the goods outright, your cut is forty percent. If you put them in on consignment, it's thirty percent."
"That's stiff interest,” Cliff muttered.
"Not really. With the consignment deal, you not only operate on our money, but I do all the inventorying and stocking of shelves. When you buy outright, those delightful chores are all yours."
"So, with the consignment deal you decide on which products we sell, stock the store, do the inventorying and restocking and we pay only for the items we actually sell."
"You got it, ma'am."
"What happens if we start out with a consignment arrangement and later want to switch?” Cliff asked.
"No problem. We take an inventory, sign a new contract and you write us a big check."
Ally looked at Cliff. “Why not?"
"When can you set us up?” Cliff asked.
Dave smiled broadly and nodded towards the entranceway. “When can you get that pigsty cleaned up?"
"We haven't given it much thought,” Ally admitted as she started towards the store area of the building. The others followed.
"What do you think, Roger?"
Roger, obviously startled by being asked for an opinion, replied, “Uh, I'd guess two days to clean it up and another two days to paint the walls and fixtures."
Dave nodded. “Sounds about right. Let's see. This is Friday, so you're looking at having it ready next Friday."
Roger shook his head. “I was thinking Wednesday.” He glanced at Cliff and dropped his eyes. “I don't mind working Saturday and Sunday if it's okay with you."
Cliff studied the ex-FBI agent for a moment before replying. “I don't know much about wage and hour laws, Roger. I don't want to get into trouble."
"I'd like to do it, Cliff."
"Okay, Mr. Allen Wholesale Supply man. Set us up next Wednesday."
"You've got it.” He whipped out a pad. “If you don't mind, I'll make a few notes."
"Help yourself."
"I'll need your North Carolina Sales Tax number."
"My what?"
"Mecklenburg County doesn't require a vendor's license, but you do need a tax exemption number to buy wholesale."
"Where do I get that?"
"There's an office somewhere in Charlotte. Look it up in the phone book."
"I'll take care of it, Cliff,” Ally said. “I had to have a similar license for my diner in Charleston.” She grinned. “You get to file the quarterly sales tax reports. I hate those things."
"It's none of my business,” Dave int
errupted, “but you don't want to get in trouble with the tax people. There's a lady in Dot who runs a bookkeeping service. I can't think of her name right now, but you might want to check her out."
"Every time I turn around this thing gets more expensive,” Cliff grumbled. He glanced at the large van parked in front of the store. “That your truck?"
Dave nodded.
"Mind if we have a look at the products you carry?"
"Be my guest."
"I'll just get started with the cleaning,” Roger said.
"Have you already finished the stove and grill?” Ally asked.
Roger glanced at Cliff who shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.
"Sorry, ma'am,” Roger said. “I'll get right on it."
Cliff followed Ally into the parking lot. “It looks like a United Parcel Service truck,” she observed as Cliff opened the rear doors.
"It's a big sucker, all right,” he agreed. “Damn, would you look at all that stuff."
Ally giggled. “I wonder how he ever finds anything?"
Cliff propped on the tailgate. “What am I going to do, Ally?"
"About what?"
"About Julie, you, me..."
"Spit it out, Cliff."
"Julie called this morning as I was preparing for my run to Dot."
"Oh?"
"She's changed her mind again. If she can find a mover willing to do it, she's coming tomorrow."
Ally grinned. “She doesn't want to miss out on all the excitement."
"I don't think that's it. She seems, well, obsessed with this Roger guy. She calls him Spunky. She insists that I offer him a partnership."
"You have a problem with that?"
"Our agreement is that Julie gets fifty percent and you and I split the other fifty. To be honest, I'm not happy with that, and if we bring Roger in, our cut will be down to, uh..."
Ally grinned and helped with the math. “Sixteen point six, six, six, six, six, six..."
"Whatever."
"In some partnerships, the working partners are paid a salary plus a cut of the profit,” Ally said. “Maybe we should talk with Julie about that."
He nodded. “Ally, I ... I told her I love her."
Ally's expression became serious. “And?"
"She cussed and hung up on me."
"Ouch."
"Yeah."
Ally propped beside Cliff and draped her arm around his waist. He looked at her and, when she refused to make eye contact, placed his hand on her cheek and gently turned her head.
"Do you ... do you have feelings for me, Ally?"
"Don't go there, Cliff."
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Separate love and sex."
She placed her hand on his crotch and pressed her palm against his erection. “You don't seem to have a problem with it."
He did not attempt to remove her hand. “Do you think it's possible to love two people at the same time?"
"Are you saying you love me as well as Julie?"
"I'm asking a question."
"I don't have an answer. I loved Frank, and look where it got me."
"So you don't love me but yet you want to go to bed with me."
She stood up and grinned impishly. “Not if that kiss you gave me this morning is an example of your best.” She turned and started back towards the building.
"Damn it, Ally. Wait a minute."
She stopped. Cliff joined her. “I just bared my soul to you. Please don't turn your back on me."
She searched his eyes for a full minute before replying. “In another world, perhaps you could have both Julie and me, Cliff, but not in this world."
"Are you saying I need to chose between you?"
"Hell, no. I want you to marry Julie, have a house full of children and live happily ever after."
"But?"
She nodded. “There is a but, Cliff. I'm not going to get emotionally involved with a man who's heart belongs to another and, like you, I'm afraid there is a serious connection between Julie and Roger that we know nothing about."
"Why do you say that?"
"When I talked with Julie last night, I told her I was going to live in one of the motel units, not in the apartment with her. I expected an explosion, but instead she said that arrangement was fine with her."
"And you were disappointed?"
She dropped her eyes. “Yes, damn it."
"We're both screwed up, Ally. You know that?"
She nodded and lifted her eyes. “Cliff, except for what we've been talking about, are you happy? Does the work we are doing and the excitement of opening the businesses give you pleasure?"
He nodded. “Yes, it does—I think it is both the happiest and most miserable time of my life."
"Then let's just enjoy it, Cliff—enjoy each others’ company—and see what happens."
He smiled, nodded and took her hand in his. “There's something I want to show you that I spotted in the van.” He led the way, climbed into the truck and helped her in. He pulled her close and closed his lips on hers. He tickled her upper lip with his tongue while slowly massaging her back. He nibbled gently on her lower lip. He felt her sag into him. He cupped her buttocks and slipped his tongue between her moist lips. Their tongues met. She chased his tongue with hers and moaned as his hands tightened on their prey.
He broke the kiss and pressed her head to his shoulder. “That was a sample of my best,” he whispered. He gently kissed her forehead. “Now, let's get back to work."
He jumped down from the back of the van and held his hand out to her. When she was safely on the ground, she said, “I'll join you in a minute."
"You okay?"
She nodded and, without a hint of a smile, said, “I need to change my undies."
Chapter Eleven
Cliff swallowed a bite of pizza. “I still say things are moving too fast."
"I love it,” Ally responded, “but we do need a plan. Jumping from one project to another may not be the best approach. I say we finish the restaurant today and concentrate on the store tomorrow."
"Don't forget we must get the apartment ready for Julie."
Ally nodded. “Can't we do that tonight or maybe in the morning. You did say Julie will get here late in the afternoon."
"Julie is coming tomorrow?” Roger asked.
"Yeah, unless she can't find a moving company or changes her mind again. It wouldn't surprise me if she shows up tonight, or calls and says she's decided to sell the place after all and remain in Charleston."
Ally grinned. “Don't be so hard on the woman, Cliff."
Roger selected another slice of pizza and looked at it as he said, “The booths, tables and chairs need minor repairs and a coat of varnish. I can easily complete that this afternoon if that's what you want me to do. Tonight I can work some more on cleaning the store."
Ally turned up her bottle of beer and guzzled it in a most unladylike fashion. She belched and grinned. “Scuse me. Yeah, Roger. It won't take long to slide the booths back in place in the morning."
"Since you're handing out work assignments, boss, what do you want me to do."
Ally grinned at Cliff. “Mop the floor and clean up the workroom while I wash all the dishes, silverware, pots and pans."
"I want to try out the coffee maker and get the stove working. From now on, we'll have to make breakfast in here. We can't very well barge in on Julie every morning,” Cliff replied.
"I already tested the coffee maker. It works, but needs serious scrubbing. There's something else you need to do, Cliff, and now is as good a time as any."
He looked at her quizzically and she cut her eyes towards Roger.
Cliff finished his slice of pizza and leaned back in the chair. “Roger, I don't want to tick off Carl Elliott, but he seems to be okay with you working with us and leaving him. Are you sure that's what you want to do?"
"Thank you, Cliff—Ally. I'll do a good job."
Ally smiled. “There's no doubt about tha
t."
"I ... I think there's something you should know before you make a commitment,” Cliff continued. “I served time for pushing drugs. That's behind me now, but I thought you should know."
"None of my business."
"Maybe. Roger, in a telephone conversation I told Julie you are helping us. She remembers you. She said she thought you were an FBI agent."
Roger rubbed an imaginary spot from the tabletop. “I was—once."
"I suppose I have a suspicious mind, but, well, are you working as an undercover agent, trying to catch me pushing drugs again?"
"Cliff!” Ally said sharply. “You're paranoid."
Cliff continued to look at Roger.
"I've been back in Dot for about six months, now. How could the FBI have possibly known you would show up here?"
"Good point."
For one of the few times, Roger looked Cliff directly in the eye. “It's something I don't like to talk about. Let's just say the FBI wasn't my cup of tea."
"Get on with it, Cliff,” Ally demanded.
"Here's the thing, Roger. We can use your help. As I told you before, we can't pay much."
"It doesn't matter."
"Yeah, well, it matters to Julie. She wants you to be a partner in the business. When she gets here, we're all going to have to sit down and work out the details. You can split a pie into just so many slices."
Roger looked at Ally who smiled and nodded. “I just want to work here like my dad used to. I didn't ask to be a partner."
"I know. It was Julie's idea and she's adamant about it."
"No. I can't do that. Just pay me minimum wage, at least until the business is on its feet."
"Fine by me,” Cliff said with obvious relief in his voice, “but please let Julie know we made the offer."
Roger nodded. “Julie's a fine person. I do appreciate the opportunity."
"Well,” Cliff said, pushing back from the table, “we have work to do, folks. Let's have at it."
"I, uh, do have an idea you might want to consider,” Roger said as he tidied up the table.
"Sure,” Cliff replied. “How much is it going to cost?"
"Cliff!” Ally reprimanded.
"It's just something to think about. There seem to be a lot of good ol’ boys in this neck of the woods. I take it from what you've previously said that you plan to sell beer in the store. A couple of pool tables in the restaurant and draft beer might draw a crowd."
Sintown Chronicles III: In Dark Corners Page 11
