“I have to admit, Mr. Duncan, I was skeptical at first, but offering all our high-end customers free oil changes was a stroke of genius. Service tickets are up almost fifty-five percent this week, and both sales and merchandising are on pace to break weekly records,” Clyde said as he stood in the doorway to my office.
The chip he’d had on his shoulder the first day was pretty much gone now. Thank God he’d gotten over the fact that he was no longer the big man on campus. I’d worked hard over the last two weeks to make sure people understood I was more than a seat warmer with the last name Duncan, and it was paying off. If I had to say so myself, I was fitting in pretty well around this place—and no one was more surprised about that than me.
“Thanks, Clyde. Sure, the oil change on a Porsche or Lamborghini is no cheap nut to absorb, but that kind of good service keeps our customers coming back. We want people to feel good about the Duncan brand so they continue to buy from us.”
“Makes sense,” he said.
“It’ll make even more sense once we get that new computer system I talked Orlando into buying. Then we’ll be able to profile each customer, give them a call just to chat and see how the car is running.”
“The gearheads and yuppies will lose their minds. Someone calling just to give them a chance to talk about their precious cars.”
“Exactly,” I said.
Clyde stood there staring at me for a minute, and then he said, “You know, I can see why they brought you in. It’s gonna be good working with you, Wil.” He shot me a slight smile, tapped the frame of the door, and then walked away.
That was the first time he’d called me Wil. I took that as his sign of approval, and I found myself smiling too as I got back to work on the invoices in front of me.
“Mr. Duncan.” My receptionist’s voice came through the intercom.
“Yes, Allie.”
“Someone is here to see you,” she said, and I thought I detected a hint of uneasiness in her voice.
“Can you ask Clyde to deal with them, please, Allie? I’m just finishing up something.”
“I already tried that, but she’s insisting she has to talk to you.”
I assumed it was a disgruntled customer who had probably already cussed out someone else and now wanted to speak with the head of customer service. This would be my first interaction with a dissatisfied customer. I had to make sure I handled things appropriately.
“Okay, send her back.”
I straightened my tie and pulled a breath mint out of the drawer, preparing to charm this customer out of whatever mood she was in. When she walked in the door, I realized this was going to be a little more complicated than I had imagined.
“Wil.” She said only my name, but there was an intensity to her voice that let me know this was not a social call. She was clutching her large purse as if she had a million dollars in it and was worried someone might snatch it off her arm. Her face was tense and uptight, certainly not the face of a woman to be played with.
“Kenya, what are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I said, unable to conceal my surprise. It wasn’t every day Jay’s ex-wife stopped by unannounced.
She dove right in. “I need your help.” There was no “How have you been? How’s the wife? The kids?” She sounded desperate.
I stood, and we hugged briefly. “Have a seat.” I extended my hand toward the chair in front of my desk. “So, how’d you even know I worked here?”
She shrugged. “Facebook. Diane congratulated you on your first day here last week.”
My wife and I were going to have to talk about this social media thing.
Kenya sat down in the chair and took off her sunglasses. “Wil, have you seen Jay?”
My back stiffened. I was pretty sure this conversation was going to come down to Jay at some point, especially since Kenya hated him more than anyone in the world, but I didn’t think she’d go in this quick. I guess she was still pissed about him leaving her for Tracy, who was half her age. My first thought was that she might be working with the police to apprehend Jay.
I sat back in my chair and then looked to my open office door, letting out a sigh. “Look, if you came here to talk about Jay, this is not the time or the place.”
“You’re right, Wil.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a brown envelope, which she flung across my desk. “I’m here for something a lot more important than Jay’s sorry ass. This is what I got in the mail the other day.”
I could tell she meant business and that she was scared. I picked up the envelope and opened it, pouring out its contents onto my desk.
“What’s this?” I asked, staring at a pile of photos.
“Look at them,” she said.
I picked up one, a picture of two women having sex. I was already uncomfortable looking at dirty pictures in front of Kenya, but then shit got way more uncomfortable when I realized I knew one of the women. “What the fuck! Oh my God!” I blurted out. “Is that—”
“Yes!” Kenya exhaled loudly. “And they want a hundred thousand dollars or they’re going to put them all over the Internet.”
“Fuck.” I looked from Kenya back at the pictures. “Where the hell do they expect us to get that kind of money?”
Kenya leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice was deadly calm when she said, “Well, for a start, we can turn Jay in for the reward.”