Lou was coming up the steps and Mona and I locked eyes; it was taking him longer and longer to make the trek. You could hear him starting and stopping. You could hear him breathing. I had hired a couple of new girls in the meantime, girls who had never seen Lou and knew nothing about him, and they were frightened, wondering what it was that was approaching.
“It’s only one of our salesmen,” Mona whispered to the fledglings.
Now the long pause at the top landing so he could make a decent entrance.
“Hello everybody. Hello Mona.”
His hairpiece was askew. He was sweating. His face was yellow.
“Hi, Lou,” Mona said.
He plopped down and took a few minutes to catch his breath.
“I see you got yourself some new girls,” he said. “That’s good. Could use some fresh blood.”
“You all right?”
“Never been better.” He leaned over. “I see you got rid of what’s-her-name, that Sonja.”
“No I didn’t. She just hasn’t shown up.”
Not since the latest scene in my apartment. Which gave me the willies wondering what she was up to. I wanted her around just to keep an eye on her. She hadn’t been around for days. I tried calling her but the numbers she gave on her application form were out of service. She had given a place in Price Hill as her address and once or twice I thought about taking a ride over there, imagining her dead in the bathtub, water and blood spilling over onto the tiles. I imagined her tracking Stephanie, lurking in the alleys. For all those reasons I wanted her here and even considered giving her that orgasm, if that would do the trick and keep her from doing harm.
“What’s wrong with YOU?” Lou asked.
“Me?”
“You’re as nervous as a jellybean.”
He asked if it was about what’s-her-name Sonja.
“Is she your problem?”
I shook my head.
“She seems to give everybody fits,” he said. “Is she jealous of Stephanie?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just guessing. I know Stephanie is back.”
“You measured that house again?”
He coughed and said yes he had.
“Is that all?”
No it wasn’t. The developer was so pleased with Lou that he was giving him the carpet business for an entire unit of homes out there in Northwood.
“Twenty-two homes,” said Lou. “What do you say about that?”
“I say that’s a hell of a lot of measuring for one man.”
“I told you those leads were GOLDEN.”
“I told you they were stolen.”
“Guess who’s going to make the Million Dollar Club this year?”
“Hope you’re around to collect the medal.”
“You worry too much,” he coughed, and coughed and coughed and coughed.
“You all right, Lou?”
“You always act as if I’m going to die any minute. I’m not that old, you know. I’m only in my fifties.”
ONLY IN HIS FIFTIES? I could have sworn he was well up in his seventies.
Phil Coleman, the man they called Hot Shot, charter member of the Million Dollar Club, walked up just in time to hear that last one and said, “Sure, Old Lou here is still a young man. He’s one of our stars. You know, those stars that keep shining for years and years after they’ve gone out.”
He checked around the room for admiration, smile as wide as the devil’s. It was an amazing thing for Phil Coleman to come up here, for Hot Shot that he was, he didn’t need my leads. He didn’t want my leads. Considered them “the bottom of the barrel.” He got his leads direct from downstairs, off people who had phoned in or just come in to browse. Browse my eye. Soon as they meandered in they were hooked once he got his fangs into them. Customers just casually entering the showroom for “a hallway rug” didn’t know there were seven HUNGRY salesmen in there waiting to pounce on them. That included Morris Silver, except that Morris didn’t sell anymore. He just sat there at the big table telling stories.
“Why is it always JOKES with you guys?” Lou said, which was strange, coming from Old Lou, who was always fearful of the big three since he was a much lesser salesman from the time of his stroke, inferior in terms of sales and stature – but not so since he got his hands on those QUALITY leads and was now in business with an entire housing DEVELOPMENT.
“Jokes?” said Phil Coleman. “Nobody takes you more seriously than me, Lou.”
“You’re always cracking jokes.”
“Calm down, Lou.”
“I’ll calm down once you get out of here.”
“Oh? Eli’s your man?”
“What’s the trouble, Phil?” I piped in.
“No trouble. No trouble at all. I just wanted to know if you got any leads. For the rest of us.”
“Why now?”
“I hear this is the place. For hot leads and hot chicks.”
He looked around and gave me a wink.
“I don’t know about hot chicks…”
“Word gets around.”
“I don’t know about hot leads, either.”
“That’s not what I hear. I hear Lou’s scoring big. Where you getting those leads, Lou?”
“What’s it to you, Phil?” said Lou.
“I want in on the action.”
“We just got lucky,” I said.
“That’s some job out in Northwood. Some luck, twenty-two homes.”
“But I keep giving you leads, Phil. I spread them around.”
“Not like the ones you’ve been giving to Old Lou here, lately.”
“You worried I’m going to have a better year than you?” said Lou.
“Hey, I’m on your side, Lou. I’m one of your fans.” He winked at Mona, who didn’t wink back. She was wise to him. He was full of winks and grins, this Phil Coleman. “Don’t forget, I’ve thrown a few leads your way,” Hot Shot Phil said to Lou. “How soon they forget, right Lou?”
“Yes, I remember that kitchen linoleum job.”
“Hey, can I help it if it didn’t pan out? All I can do is give you a lead. It’s your job to sell.”
“I’m TEN TIMES THE SALESMAN you are.”
Lou was going for his second stroke.
“Hey, Lou, you’re the greatest,” Phil said for his exit line.
Lou chuckled. “He thinks that Northwood lead came from you. It’s killing them down there that I’m back.”
He said, “You hear me? Lou Emmett is BACK.”