“Big Wil. How’s it going, cuz?” Orlando greeted me at the front door of Duncan Motors as if he’d been standing there waiting for me to arrive. Maybe he had. He couldn’t have been standing there too long, though, because I arrived at nine a.m. sharp. “Hey, man, again, I’m sorry about Trent.”
We joined our hands into a fist and pulled one another in for a hug.
“It’s all right, O. I appreciate the kind words you said at the funeral. I know you and him were close.” He lowered his head in acknowledgment. “So how you doing?” I asked.
“I can’t complain,” Orlando said. “Business is great, and it’s about to be better now that you’re here.” He rested his hand on my back. “Come on. Let me give you a little tour and introduce you to the team.”
I followed Orlando as he walked toward the double glass doors. “I’ll be in charge of customer service, right? Not just a supervisor on a team, but the—”
“Head nigga in charge.” Orlando finished my sentence with a laugh. “You are the only one anyone in customer service can and will report to. After you, there is only me and Pop.”
I nodded my understanding. I just wanted to be sure that Uncle LC hadn’t told me one thing and Orlando another.
He opened the door and then moved to the side to allow me to walk through first. He introduced me to person after person, making sure to give me not only their name but the college or university they had graduated from.
“So here we have your little piece of Duncan Motors, our Customer Service Department,” Orlando said. We stopped at the first cubicle we came to, where an older biracial-looking gentleman sat. He stood up from his desk with a cheery smile on his face.
“Wil Duncan, this is Clyde Baxter,” Orlando said. Clyde extended his hand and we shook. “Clyde knows everything there is to know about Duncan clients, cars, and customer service as it is currently constituted. He’ll be your go-to person.”
Clyde’s cheery grin remained, laced with a hint of pride now.
“Clyde, Wil—Wil Duncan—is now in charge of the Customer Service Department and will be revamping it over the next year. You and your team will report directly to him and help in any way you can.”
Clyde now looked like he was struggling to keep that genuine smile on his face. Something told me that this was all news to him, and he had more than likely been the person everyone in customer service reported to before I came along. Not the best way to start off with him. I hoped he wasn’t going to become a problem.
Orlando put his arm on Clyde’s shoulder. “Clyde will be here to help you with anything you might need. Right, Clyde?” I got the sense that Orlando also picked up on Clyde’s displeasure.
Clyde eventually affirmed with a head nod and a barely audible, “Yes, anything for a Duncan.”
Oh, the hint of disdain when Clyde spoke the family name did not go unnoticed… by me at least. If Orlando caught wind of it, he simply didn’t give a shit. He continued with the introduction of the remaining seven employees, who all sat in their cubicles, getting started on the day’s workload.
“Seems like a good team,” I said once Orlando had introduced me to everyone and we were headed down a hallway.
“All great folks. In total you have forty-eight people under you in twenty-five different dealerships,” Orlando confirmed. “Here at Duncan Motors, we only hire the best.” He stopped at an office entryway and then turned and looked at me. “Which is why we have you here,” he said as we entered his office.
It was huge, almost twice the size of my former office. It had the smell of new carpet, which made me drop my eyes to the soft tan shag beneath my feet as I entered. It wasn’t the average cheap carpet most companies purchased in bulk to spread throughout an entire building. This was expensive. Classy. Only the best for the Duncans indeed. Then there was the scent of genuine leather emanating from the couch and matching chairs in one area of the space, where a thick glass coffee table complemented the furniture. I bet that furniture had been shipped in from Europe or something crazy like that.
“There’s some minor paperwork I’m going to need you to fill out.” He pointed to his large oak desk as he walked toward it. It was shiny and well organized, having just the basics: a large calendar, landline phone, mail tray, business card holder, yellow legal pad, and a pen. It looked as though he did more work outside of the office than inside.
“Of course,” I said as I sat down in front of his desk. “Got to keep Uncle Sam straight.”
Orlando stood at the end of the desk with a puzzled look on his face. Finally, he spoke. “Why are you sitting there?” He nodded toward the large ergonomic chair on the opposite side from where I’d settled in. “Get comfortable behind your desk.”
“My desk?” I questioned. He’d just introduced me to every member of the Customer Service Department, and every last one of them worked out of a cubicle. How could I have possibly known that I was working in anything other than a cubicle as well?
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought this was your office.”
Orlando laughed. “Oh, no. It’s all you, cousin.” He looked around. “Besides, do you think I’d work out of a dump like this?”
I laughed with him, even though his arrogance reminded me a little too much of my brother. No wonder Trent had joined their team.
“Anyway…” He walked over to the credenza behind my desk and powered up the computer. “You might want to spend some time getting a feel for how things have been run in the past, and then forget all about how things were run in the past and make it ten times better for the present.” He looked at me. “Pop wants Duncan customer service as efficient as possible. He wants every customer happy. These people are paying a lot of money on these high-end cars. That may mean you have to tear into some people… even firing them if need be.” Orlando stood up straight and looked at me. “Think you can handle that?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said with a sigh. Unfortunately, I knew more about getting rid of employees than I wanted to.
“Fine. Well, I’ll leave you here to get started. I’ve got business outside the office, but like I said, if you need anything—”
“Clyde,” I said.
“Yes, Clyde.” Orlando looked around. He pointed to a door. “Bathroom.” He turned and pointed to the back wall over by the sitting area. “Fridge and coffee station. You should be good to go.” He walked to the door and then turned to face me. “Can you think of anything else you might need?”
I shook my head. “No, for the moment, I’m good.”
“Great,” he said. “I’ll try to stop back in later this afternoon. Maybe we can grab lunch. If not, if you have any trouble, just hit me on my cell.”
Orlando exited the office, and I took a moment to soak in the reality surrounding me, thinking, This might work out after all.