“Speaking of that, tell your people to quit calling me. My wife thinks I’m having an affair.”
Vinnie didn’t respond at first but waited till he was almost halfway up the steps before acknowledging my last remark. “But aren’t you? Having an affair, that is,” he teased with a smirk. “We have eyes everywhere, Harris, my man. Ears too.”
LC
17
Orlando walked into my office, looking tired and run down. He and Rio had come straight from the plane to the dealership after their final meeting with the cooperative up in Detroit. From the look on his face as he sat down in the chair to my right, I could tell he’d been unsuccessful in securing a distribution deal. Truth be told, I didn’t think they had a snowball’s chance in hell of negotiating a deal when I sent them, but as desperate as we were, it was worth a shot. Hell, I don’t think if I’d sent them up there with a suitcase full of money, they could have gotten those old boys to help us.
“How did it go?” I asked, more to break our silence than anything else.
“They said no, Pop.” Orlando leaned back in his chair, sighing as he loosened his tie. Like me, he hated failure.
“It’s okay, son. I figured they would.” I nodded my head in understanding as I ran my hand through my hair. “There’s a lot of bad blood between us and the cooperative since we went foreign and high-end. I guess they feel like I got too big for my britches. Who knows? Maybe they’re right.”
Orlando said, “Yeah, I got the impression they didn’t like you too much, Pop. Quite a few of them, especially Richard Coleman, seemed to be enjoying the fact that you were having problems.”
“Yeah, well, Coleman’s got an axe to grind. I’m sure that when I left the cooperative, it took a lot of money out of his pockets just in margins alone.” I sat back in my chair, second-guessing my decision to leave the cooperative. I was now seeing the wisdom behind the old adage that there’s safety in numbers. It was not good news to hear that the chairman of the cooperative was still holding a grudge.
“Enough about Richard Coleman,” I said. “How’d Rio do?”
Orlando sat back in his chair. “Surprisingly well. He kept his mouth shut when he was supposed to and did what he had to do when the time came. We may not have gotten what we wanted, but we left there with quite a bit of information about how they do business. I take it you knew Simons was gay?”
“Let’s just say I was pretty sure Rio was right up his alley.” I’d sent Rio with Orlando, instead of sending Harris or Junior, because I knew Mark Simons, the number two man behind Richard Coleman, had a thing for young men in their twenties. “So what did Rio find out?”
“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.”