SUV.
Fernando, of course, was delighted. He took great pleasure in making his adversaries miserable.
THAT NIGHT, BEFORE quitting time, the showroom was empty. Nando had been instructing me on how to online date for free and I’d been chatting with a girl in Santa Barbara about us getting together for coffee.
The showroom PA blared. “FIORELLA! JD FIORELLA TO THE GM’S OFFICE. JD TO RHETT’S OFFICE.”
On my way there, Vikki, who had just finished up with an Asian lookie-loo tire-kicking couple outside on the lot, walked in. Her customers were now leaving the dealership with a brochure.
She motioned me to her desk. This girl, for two obvious full D-cup reasons, had become the sales leader at the dealership over the last several days.
I walked over to where she was sitting. Her makeup was perfect, as usual, and standing above her, I was able to see down her low-cut blouse that accentuated her pink bra and hefty knockers. The only thing that might put a man off about this girl were her wide hips. Most men find hippy women unattractive. I, on the other hand, have always enjoyed a wide ride. Vikki was at least twenty pounds too beefy.
“Hey, JD,” she cooed, “can we talk for a sec?”
“Sure,” I said, “talk. But you heard, I’ve just been summoned by the company’s brain trust.”
“So you and Nando had an argument out back last week?”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I said. “A territory misunderstanding, is all. As you know, Nando can be a knucklehead.”
“I hear you’re pretty good at taking care of yourself. I like that quality in a man.”
“I do okay.”
“And you also know I’m a single woman, right?”
“I know you’ve got an ex-husband. I’ve heard you on your cell with your lawyer at least twice.”
Vikki smiled up at me, exposing expensive, pretty, perfectly capped teeth. “Divorces can be scary,” she cooed. “My ex is also a lawyer. It’s a nasty situation.”
“I hear that.”
“Well, okay. See, I was just wondering if you might like to have dinner with me sometime. Maybe after work tomorrow.”
This was the first time in eighteen months that a woman who was not a hooker or a member of an online chat room had come on to me. I’d already pigeonholed Vikki as a West Side gold digger. I had enough recovery in me and enough ex-private detective horse sense to know she could be trouble. Plainly, the girl was out of my league. I had no intention of having anything other than a work relationship with her.
“Hey, that’s nice,” I said, “maybe another time. I’m pretty busy these days.”
“Well, anyway—you just let me know, JD. The ball’s in your court now.”
Then Vikki pulled one of her business cards from the holder on the desk and wrote her private e-mail address on the back.
She handed me the card. While I was accepting it, she scratched the back of my hand with her half-inch-long red index fingernail. “It just might be fun,” she whispered.
WHEN I GOT to Rhett’s office I could tell that he and Max had been waiting for me—the room was silent and they were stone-faced.
Without saying anything, Max motioned for me to close the door and sit down.
When I didn’t move, Max glared at me. “Over there, Fiorella,” he ordered. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
I still didn’t sit down. I could feel that something was about to hit the fan, and I already smelled the stink of it in the room. “Look guys, if this about those keys . . . ” I said.
“Screw the keys,” Rhett said. “Max’ll find them or he won’t. This isn’t about the keys, okay? We’ve got a major problem.”
“Involving me?”
Max stood up. “We got some very fucked news this morning, Fiorella.”
Rhett lifted a hand to shut Max up. “I’ll handle this,” he said. “Look, amigo, we heard from our contracts guy at the bank. Turns out that your 4Runner deal went tits up.”
“You’re kidding!” I said. “What went wrong?”
“We got scammed, my
Fernando, of course, was delighted. He took great pleasure in making his adversaries miserable.
THAT NIGHT, BEFORE quitting time, the showroom was empty. Nando had been instructing me on how to online date for free and I’d been chatting with a girl in Santa Barbara about us getting together for coffee.
The showroom PA blared. “FIORELLA! JD FIORELLA TO THE GM’S OFFICE. JD TO RHETT’S OFFICE.”
On my way there, Vikki, who had just finished up with an Asian lookie-loo tire-kicking couple outside on the lot, walked in. Her customers were now leaving the dealership with a brochure.
She motioned me to her desk. This girl, for two obvious full D-cup reasons, had become the sales leader at the dealership over the last several days.
I walked over to where she was sitting. Her makeup was perfect, as usual, and standing above her, I was able to see down her low-cut blouse that accentuated her pink bra and hefty knockers. The only thing that might put a man off about this girl were her wide hips. Most men find hippy women unattractive. I, on the other hand, have always enjoyed a wide ride. Vikki was at least twenty pounds too beefy.
“Hey, JD,” she cooed, “can we talk for a sec?”
“Sure,” I said, “talk. But you heard, I’ve just been summoned by the company’s brain trust.”
“So you and Nando had an argument out back last week?”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I said. “A territory misunderstanding, is all. As you know, Nando can be a knucklehead.”
“I hear you’re pretty good at taking care of yourself. I like that quality in a man.”
“I do okay.”
“And you also know I’m a single woman, right?”
“I know you’ve got an ex-husband. I’ve heard you on your cell with your lawyer at least twice.”
Vikki smiled up at me, exposing expensive, pretty, perfectly capped teeth. “Divorces can be scary,” she cooed. “My ex is also a lawyer. It’s a nasty situation.”
“I hear that.”
“Well, okay. See, I was just wondering if you might like to have dinner with me sometime. Maybe after work tomorrow.”
This was the first time in eighteen months that a woman who was not a hooker or a member of an online chat room had come on to me. I’d already pigeonholed Vikki as a West Side gold digger. I had enough recovery in me and enough ex-private detective horse sense to know she could be trouble. Plainly, the girl was out of my league. I had no intention of having anything other than a work relationship with her.
“Hey, that’s nice,” I said, “maybe another time. I’m pretty busy these days.”
“Well, anyway—you just let me know, JD. The ball’s in your court now.”
Then Vikki pulled one of her business cards from the holder on the desk and wrote her private e-mail address on the back.
She handed me the card. While I was accepting it, she scratched the back of my hand with her half-inch-long red index fingernail. “It just might be fun,” she whispered.
WHEN I GOT to Rhett’s office I could tell that he and Max had been waiting for me—the room was silent and they were stone-faced.
Without saying anything, Max motioned for me to close the door and sit down.
When I didn’t move, Max glared at me. “Over there, Fiorella,” he ordered. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
I still didn’t sit down. I could feel that something was about to hit the fan, and I already smelled the stink of it in the room. “Look guys, if this about those keys . . . ” I said.
“Screw the keys,” Rhett said. “Max’ll find them or he won’t. This isn’t about the keys, okay? We’ve got a major problem.”
“Involving me?”
Max stood up. “We got some very fucked news this morning, Fiorella.”
Rhett lifted a hand to shut Max up. “I’ll handle this,” he said. “Look, amigo, we heard from our contracts guy at the bank. Turns out that your 4Runner deal went tits up.”
“You’re kidding!” I said. “What went wrong?”
“We got scammed, my
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