who believes I’m wrong most of the time, actually. I don’t always get it correct.” He chuckled. “But I’m damn good with business and choosing good people.”
“But you had to fire your last manager.”
The man snatched a suitcase off the ground, clutching the handle. “You don’t bite your tongue, do ya? For your information, smartass, he was my nephew.” He sucked his teeth and shrugged, making his way towards the front door. “I would’ve never hired him on personality alone. So, you dress how you wish, King, but always looking amazing. You must be clean, like you are now, hair combed, beard maintained, nails cut. You must smell good at all times, too. If you ate garlic at lunch, brush your damn teeth afterwards. Again, these sons of bitches are living vicariously through you. When they walk through this door,” he pointed at it, “they want to leave feeling like they are someone else. That is what fashion does. It allows our alter egos to perform. Something as simple as a new tie or as elaborate as an entirely new wardrobe turns mice into men.”
Or men into mice…
“Got it.”
“Good. There’s some paperwork I need you to fill out, you know, insurance papers, things like that. You start Monday, King. Be here at seven sharp. The first week, you’ll stay until seven p.m. so I can be sure you understand everything. See you in action. I’ll go over the alarm system and all that jazz with you, too. After that, your work day hours are from eight to six p.m. Saturdays, we’re open from nine to twelve p.m. Closed Sundays. If you smoke weed, that’s your fucking business, but the first time I smell it on ya, King, you’re fired. If you come in here high, you’re fired. If you come in here drunk, you’re fired. If you just finished fucking some broad on your lunchbreak, and you roll in here without your hair combed, wrinkles in your clothes and a wet stain on your crotch like some horny slob, you’re fired. No second chances. Everything else is negotiable. Oh,” he put his finger up, “one more thing. I know you have a driver’s license because you gave it to me so I could use it to turn in for a background check, but do you have a car?”
“No. I usually just take the train or Uber.”
“Uh huh, I see. Are you a shitty driver?”
“Not at all. I drive my stepfather’s car for my mom pretty often, takin’ her around. Sometimes he lets me borrow it for my own needs, too.”
“Fine. You’ll have a loaner. You’ll need a car on occasion. I’ll get that arranged in the next couple of weeks. It’s not only part of the overall image of Alpha, but you’ll need to run some errands on my behalf and do things for me, from time to time, so relying on an Uber and public transportation, especially for … more sensitive matters isn’t always ideal.” Sensitive matters? “We have special luncheons here and that back room I showed you.” He pointed towards an area of the shoebox-shaped store that featured long white curtains and lights around the walls. “We also use that for small gatherings and such.”
Ricky went on talking as he locked up the place, discussing mundane things such as parcels, storage, shipments, and the like. As the man spoke to him, he realized he wasn’t being hired as just a manager.
He was being hired to be this guy’s right hand. Something about Ricky Garcia was disturbing, yet comforting and familiar all at once. He knew how to carry himself. He spoke with authority, but surprisingly enough, he appeared to be a good listener, too. Most influential men seemed to work that way, for if one did not listen well, how could they ever manipulate a situation in their favor? King walked with his new boss toward his black Mercedes Benz. The car shined like licorice dipped in oil. King noted the ivory interior, state of the art dashboard and center channel. When the guy got situated and turned his vehicle on, ready to pull away, he waved him goodbye. Ricky honked his horn and their gazes met. The man rolled the passenger’s side window down.
“Enjoy the rest of your weekend. You’ve got a busy week ahead.”
“Same to you.”
Ricky nodded, rolled the window up, and drove away.
I need to find out more about this guy. I will. I need to know who I’m working for. This is just