Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,61
only a few customers sitting at tables. Ordinarily, I would assume that someone found a funny meme and wants to share.
But the way they keep looking through the open door to the kitchen, and how their eyes skitter away from me when they catch me observing them, tells me they have discovered my secret.
Time for a staff meeting.
But I guess I better break it to Andre first. “Let’s head to my office,” I say.
Andre checks his watch. “Don’t you need to be heading out? You said you’d only be here till mid-afternoon today.”
“I think my plans may have just changed.”
Andre closes the door behind him. “What’s up, Max?”
I drop into my rolling chair. “I was interviewed by the newspaper last night.”
“That’s great,” Andre says. “Is it about the fiftieth anniversary?”
“Not exactly. I suppose most everybody’s noticed I’ve taken on a fitness hobby in the last year and a half.”
“Hard to miss.”
I’m sure. “I was convinced by my training partner to do a bodybuilding competition, and I won.”
Andre stands straighter. “You won? That’s awesome!”
I nod. “Yeah, it was fun. But then I advanced to the next level and I placed there. So, I’m headed to a competition this weekend that’s a biggish deal.”
“Are you going to be like Arnold Schwarzenegger?” Andre asks.
I force my smile. Everyone always thinks of Arnold. “No. I’m not going for that level. In fact, I’m quite sure I’ll be knocked out at this round. I was already outclassed last time. It was a miracle that I placed in the top three.”
“Should we all show up for your big event? We could make a team outing of it.”
“No, no.” I imagine all my employees gawking at me in tiny bodybuilding trunks and cringe. Thankfully I was able to stay in normal workout clothes for the photos they took last night.
“Really?” Andre frowns. “I think it would be fun.”
“I wanted to mention it to everyone, since I’m going to be in the newspaper. I didn’t want everyone to feel like they’d been left out of something that’s fairly public knowledge.”
Andre nods. “Got it. I still think we should all show up.”
I shake my head. “I’m quite certain it isn’t necessary. We don’t—well, the outfits are a little…”
Andre nods vigorously. “Got it.”
I do have to put him off. Andre is the type of manager who will rally the staff to support me. But it’s more than tiny trunks at stake. Several staff members have seen me with Camryn, and I can’t risk them talking about her in front of Franklin.
My phone buzzes. My brother’s ugly mug fills the screen.
Andre steps back. “Would you like me to go tell everybody? Or did you want to make a big deal about it yourself?”
“Actually, you tell them. Downplay it. I’m going to deal with this call from my brother. We have a ton to do for Grammy’s celebration.”
Andre heads out, and I pick up the phone. “What’s up, bro.”
Jason’s face is ridiculously close to the camera. “It’s bruh now. You’re stuck in the 90s.”
“I was in kindergarten in the 90s.”
Jason scrunches his face. “You’re still old.”
“I could squish you like a bug.” I press my thumb to the screen.
“You’re about to get your chance.”
“At the fiftieth?”
“Nope. We got an all-points bulletin this morning about the bodybuilding empire involving our own dear brother. We know all about your big competition in three days, so Nova and I thought we’d come down and hang with the family and go watch you get your butt kicked on stage.”
“Wait? When are you arriving?”
He waves his phone around and now I can see he’s at LAX.
“You’re here?”
“You catch on slow.” Jason laughs again.
“You want me to pick you up?”
“Nope. Already rented a car. A big one. We’re waiting on Dad and Anthony to arrive.”
Oh, man. “The whole crew is coming?”
“Not Grammy. Or the cousins. They said they didn’t want to see you in your underwear on stage.”
“Thank God.”
“Hey, look who I found!”
The phone blurs for a second, then the face of my brother Anthony appears. “We made signs.” He unrolls a long sign that says Nobody beats a Pickle like Max.
Oh. My. God.
“Please tell me there are only one of those,” I say.
“Good point, bruh,” Jason says. “We’ll see if we can get more made by Saturday. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Tip of the pickle,” Anthony says with a laugh.
Jason turns the phone to his face. “Our baby brother made a sexual innuendo. He’s all growed up.”
Anthony punches Jason’s arm, and the phone blurs again.
Jason’s face returns. “We’re