by Pete, Eric
“Well, for starters, they’re hurting far worse than we are from the slowdown in production and government intervention. Coleman’s looking to make a deal with Alejandro from out west. For some reason, Alejandro doesn’t seem to be affected the same way as we are on the East Coast and the cooperative in the Midwest.”
“I haven’t figured it out quite yet, but there is something up with Alejandro. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be the reason for all our problems.”
“I hope not.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
“Well, I know you don’t particularly like him, but on the way home I was thinking maybe we should give him a call. I mean, it can’t be any worse than talking to Coleman. Besides, he always seemed cool to me. He’s never seemed disrespectful when I’ve seen him, and he always asks how you and Momma are. You always told me business was business, never personal, so I never understood why you didn’t wanna do business with him in the first place.”
“It’s a long story, son, but I’m glad to see you’re thinking. And you’re right. Business is business.” I was about to explain myself when Paris poked her head in my office.
“Daddy, your three o’clock is here.”
“Thanks, princess. Why don’t you send him in and ask Harris to join us.”
“Okay. You want me to sit in on this as well? I can take notes,” she replied.
“No, I don’t think it will be necessary.”
Paris looked like she wanted to say something, but then she must have thought twice about it, because she pulled her head back through the door. She was still on relatively good behavior after her incident with Trevor.
“Listen, Pop, if you’ve got a meeting, we can talk about this later.” Orlando stretched, getting up from his chair.
“No, no, son. I want you in on this. I think you’re going to see that I can think outside the box as well.”
“All right, but can I ask you a quick question?”
I nodded as he sat back down.
“Why’d you send Rio up there to seduce that man? You would have never let Paris or London do anything like that.”
“I sent him there because this family is in trouble and I had to use everything at my disposal to save it. Make no mistake. Every member of this family has talents that are very valuable to our operation. If you’re going to lead this family, you better understand it and be ready to use those talents whenever it’s necessary.” I took a cigar out of the box on my desk and clipped the tip. “Son, we’ll have to finish this conversation another time. It looks like our guest has arrived.”
Orlando turned to the door, and we both stood up to greet the handsome and well-dressed Latino gentleman in his early thirties that Paris had ushered into my office.
“Daddy, this is Miguel Sota. Miguel, this is my father, LC Duncan.”
“Buenos días, Miguel,” I said as he shook my hand. Paris’s eyes lustfully lingered on Miguel before I shooed her away. Orlando saw it as well, but he didn’t bother to react. He was learning.
“Miguel, this is my son Orlando.”
“Señor Duncan ... er ... both of you, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He spoke with a heavy accent. I liked his manners, as well as his composure, especially after whatever his employer had told him about me before he came from California. To some in the business, I could be the devil; to others, something worse.
“No, no, Miguel, the pleasure is ours. Come, have a seat.” I motioned toward the open leather chair next to Orlando.
“Would you like something to drink?” Orlando asked, stepping up so as to not be a spectator in what he now perceived to be an important meeting.
“No. I’m fine,” Miguel replied. “Paris already asked me. And after a long flight, I’m just ready to get down to business. That is, if you don’t mind, sir?”
“No, not at all. Orlando, Miguel works for Alejandro.”
Orlando nodded his head with a smile. “I see. How is he?” Orlando asked as Harris entered the room, carrying a folder. He sat to the right of Miguel.
“Doing good, in spite of the economy. When some of our competitors struggled and failed in Las Vegas, he managed to move right in and expand into that market.”
I glanced over at Orlando. “Yes, I hear he’s doing a lot of that lately. Is he being backed by anyone?”
“No, sir. Not that I know of.”
I studied him, hoping to see some type of chink in his facade. He gave away nothing.
He continued, “He just sees opportunity and takes it.”
“That sounds like him. Did you know I used to do business with Alejandro a lot back in the day, when I was getting established and branching out? We were just two up-and-coming minority dealers from two opposite sides of the country, looking to make moves in their respective markets. I learned a lot from him about distribution and networks. I hope he learned a lot from me about sales.”
“Yes, he has mentioned this many times,” Miguel stated, making me feel a lot better about the possibilities of working with Alejandro. “He says that you are a great businessman and we can all learn much from you.”
“I hope so, Miguel, because this deal he proposes could change the way we all do business. He must really trust you to have you broker it.”
“I believe he does,” Miguel said, pride evident on his face.
“Good! Then I must trust you too. Y’know, even though me and your boss butt heads from time to time, there is always respect.”
“With that in mind, he wanted me to discuss the final terms of our proposal to become your new distributor. I know you and Senor Alejandro have discussed the basics, but I thought you might want to see the numbers in black and white.”
He handed me a folder, which I in turn handed to Harris. He opened it and scanned the paperwork it contained. When he finished, he smiled and handed it to Orlando, who did the same when he was done reading.
“Alejandro did tell you that this deal hinges on one thing, didn’t he?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, you want Senor Alejandro’s 1957 Corvette Roadster.”
“He did tell you I used to own that ’57 Corvette Roadster? It’s been a sore spot between us for years.”
I pointed to a picture of me standing next to a fully restored red and white classic 1957 Corvette Roadster with barely one thousand miles on its engine. I’d lost the car to Alejandro in a poker game almost twenty years ago, during a business trip to Las Vegas. That was the last business transaction we’d done, because I believed he’d cheated in that game, miraculously pulling a straight flush to my full house. In any other situation I would have protested, but considering I was in his part of the country, he had several of his men there, and I was alone, I figured it was best to give up the keys. I’d regretted that mistake to this day, but my baby was finally coming home. Of course, now I had to pay 2011 prices for its return, but I was glad Alejandro had taken good care of it.
“I hated parting with that car.”
“And he equally hates parting with it now, sir, but in the interest of business and good relations, he has agreed to your terms.”
“Glad to hear that.” I glanced over at the boys. “Orlando, Harris, what do think of the deal we’ve made? Should we do it?”
“I can’t see any reason not to. It gives us a steady supply of inventory for the next five years and covers all my concerns,” Harris explained.
“It’s a no-brainer, Pop. These terms are almost as good as Lee’s when you take out the shipping.”
“Very good,” I said, reaching across my desk to shake his hand. “Miguel, it looks like we have a deal—as long as I get my Roadster back in one piece.”
“I can assure you we will take the utmost care in delivering the Corvette to you, Senor Duncan, as I will be here personally to ensure delivery once payment is made. That is why Alejandro wanted to make sure we met.”
“My brother Junior will be your contact for transport on our end,” Orlando said. He was a
ll into the details, back from whatever mental vacation that trip to Long Island had him on. “How do you plan on making delivery of the Roadster, considering its value?”
“A special tractor-trailer transport fitted with special bracing and retrofitted to fit classic cars. It keeps them from picking up any damage during the trip. We use them a lot for this type of transport,” Miguel replied calmly.
“Yeah, so do we. What about security? I mean, we’re not talking about a few Camrys here. If that car is what you say it is, it’s worth more than both our paychecks.”
“It’s worth more than both your lives,” I interjected.
“Of course. All will be secure, as per your father’s arrangement with Alejandro. We, of course, will guarantee delivery.”
“Sounds good. You can see me about payment,” Orlando confirmed, looking at me with a smile as he checked off on everything. He handed Miguel his card. “Junior will get with you and nail down the route and delivery date in the next few days, but don’t hesitate to call me if something comes up.”
“Bien.”
“How long are you in town?” I asked as we walked out of my office.
“I head back to L.A. in the morning, but I will be back a few days before the first shipment.”
I patted him on the back. “Well, let me see you out, then. I have an apartment nearby that you’re free to use, if you’d like. Anything else you need while in town, just let me or Orlando know. My son Rio owns a club that I think you might like also. You have our numbers, and we’ll be sure to answer,” I said, cutting a look at Orlando.
Outside my office, I led Miguel to the showroom floor, while we waited for Orlando to double-check all the facts and figures of our agreement. Miguel was drawn to the black Continental GT instantly, peering in its windows and admiring its powerful lines as he circled it.
“You like?”
“I love it. It’s beautiful,” he gushed, his eyes ablaze. “Señor Alejandro does not deal in such expensive European cars as you. He is more comfortable with domestic brands and Japanese cars, as you know.”
“When you’re ready for one, come see me. I’ll let you have one at my cost,” I said with a smile. Even though I wasn’t actively involved in sales these days, the allure of a potential deal still gave me a rush.
“You are most generous, Senor Duncan.”
“Daddy, here are those purchase orders you asked for,” Paris said as she approached us. This could’ve waited, but at least she was following my instructions and being productive in the office until she was needed.
“Thank you,” I said curtly, letting her know I was still busy.
She hadn’t noticed Miguel, who was now seated inside the Bentley, and broke into a wide grin when she did. His smile for the car was now devoted to my daughter, as he tried to discreetly check out her body.
“That’ll be all, Paris. Go check on Orlando to see if he’s done back in my office,” I directed. She moved on, but not before eyeing Miguel a final time and flicking her hair. I could’ve sworn she had a little extra bounce in her step.
Once she disappeared around the corner, I leaned over and placed my arm across the roof of the Continental GT, peering inside.
“Miguel, that’s my daughter,” I offered, not sure if he was aware.
“Yes, sir,” Miguel responded, trying to be nonchalant about the obvious rise she’d gotten out of him a minute ago.
“This car, you can have one day. Matter of fact, once this deal goes through, maybe I’ll give it to you. We’ll call it a finder’s fee. But my daughter, you can’t have. Comprende?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” I said, looking him dead in the eye as I gave him a fatherly pat across his chest. “Because if you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
London
18
I walked out of Queens Village Montessori School, holding Mariah’s hand, styling and profiling like I owned the place. With the tuition I was paying them for Mariah to go to school there each week, I probably should have had Daddy buy the joint, because it would have been cheaper.
I’d picked her up a little early in hopes of using her as an excuse for stopping by the office and running into Harris. We’d been arguing nonstop since he found out that he wasn’t my first lover. I’d hurt his ego pretty bad. He hadn’t come home from the office before midnight for the past few nights, and he was out the door before seven every morning. I was hoping that bringing Mariah by the office to see him would be enough of an olive branch for us to at least talk. We had a fund-raising dinner with my parents in a few days, and I did not want my mother or father picking up on just how bad things were between us.
I knew that once we started talking civilly again, I’d ease my way back into his good graces. He was a sucker for a good blow job, so it might just take giving him some head from under his desk for him to forgive me. I was going to have to do something, because that man had a high sex drive, and I wasn’t about to let any other woman step into my shoes. I’d given up my professional life and had a baby years before I was ready, all in the name of making him happy, so you best believe I wasn’t about to let anyone step in my way.
“So how was school today?” I asked my daughter as she leaped into her seat in the back of my Mercedes SUV, her curls bouncing wildly.
“Good. Jermaine was bad again today. He couldn’t play at recess,” she rattled off without taking a breath. Kids. As I buckled her seat belt, she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “We goin’ to see Grandpa now?” she asked, almost pleading.
“Yeah, baby. Mommy’s gonna take you to see Grandpa. But I want you to find Daddy first and give him a big hug. He really misses you.”
“Okay, Mommy, but then I’m gonna find Grandpa and help him, because I run Duncan Motors.”
As much as Mariah enjoyed pretending she was an employee, barking out orders and charming the car shoppers, my father loved having her around the dealership even more. I kind of think his spoiling Mariah was an attempt to make up for how hard he was on us growing up—well, all of us except Paris. Perhaps he should’ve been harder on her. It might have saved us all some trouble.
On the way to bring Mariah for her visit, I stopped at the dry cleaners on Rockaway Boulevard to drop off Harris’s clothes. Mariah stood at my side, counting the articles of clothing as the woman behind the counter separated them. Everything was as usual, until I sifted through the crisp whites. As I grasped the third one from the pile, a red streak near the last button on the bottom of the shirt caught my eye. I studied it harder, realizing it was a woman’s lipstick smudge—and it wasn’t mine. It was far too bright.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.
“Oooh, Mommy, you said a bad word,” Mariah chastised.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” I apologized as tears welled up in my eyes.
“Mommy, you look like you’re crying. Is it because you said a bad word?”
“No, I’m not crying, baby. I just have something in my eyes. Mommy’s fine.” I wiped away the tears. The Asian woman behind the counter met my dazed stare, offering either solidarity or pity as she took the shirt away from me and squirreled it out of my view with the rest of the dry cleaning.
“Medium starch? We’ll clean it good,” was all she said as she handed me my ticket.
I sucked in some air, lifting my head as I walked out of the dry cleaners, wishing Harris’s clothes were in a burning heap.
As we walked through the parking lot, Mariah asked questions about every little thing she saw, as she was apt to do, but I didn’t respond. My fucking philandering husband was consuming my thoughts, along with ideas about just how I was going to pay his ass back.
I buckled Mariah into her car seat, then walked around to the driver’s side.
“No, no, no,” I said with a groan when I spotted the flat front tire. This could not be happening to me. Not today.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” Mariah shouted from her seat. It was the first time I actually heard what she said s
ince we’d left the dry cleaners.
“Hang on, baby. Mommy needs to make a call.” As much as I hated doing it, I needed to call my husband.
“Where are you?” I barked when Harris answered.
“In Manhattan. I have an important meeting.”
“You sure you’re not in some hotel with that bitch whose lipstick was left on your shirt? How the hell do you get lipstick down there, anyway? Wait. Don’t fucking answer that,” I said as my mind was filled with the image of some bitch giving him head.
I knew I probably should have stuck to the flat tire issue, but the minute I heard his voice, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him.
“London, I’m busy and don’t have time for your shit, okay?” he snapped.
Damn. He didn’t even deny it. “My shit! I’m the one out dropping off your laundry while you out getting your dick sucked by God knows who.”
“You know what ...?” He hung up, which pissed me off even more.
I called him right back. “Don’t be hanging up on me.”
“You keep talking to me about nonsense, and I’m gonna do a lot worse than hang up. Now, I told you I have a meeting.”
I’m not going to lie; his threat scared me, but I tried not to let it show. “Well, I got a flat tire by the dry cleaners, and your daughter’s in the car.”
“The one over by Farmers Boulevard?”
“Yep, and the only reason I’m here is because you said you don’t want anyone else doing your shirts but them.”
“You said Mariah’s with you?” The way he said it made me feel like he didn’t give a shit about me, just Mariah.
“Mm-hmm. You coming to get us or what?”
“I can’t right now, London. I’m just about to start this meeting. Just call Junior’s people. They’ll send somebody over to change it.”
I exhaled loudly into the phone. “I guess.”
