Page 11 of Next in Line
Sam’s silence has me looking over to find him staring at my chest with a downright sinful expression on his face. I look to see what he’s seeing, and my eyes go wide. “Shit!” I exclaim, grabbing the edges of the snowsuit and closing it up quickly. “Motherfetcher, what was I thinking?”
Sam’s laughter is shaking his entire body. “You’re typically supposed to wear clothes under your snowsuit.” He turns his head to try to hide the fact that he’s laughing so hard, and I hate that he looks so cute doing it.
“Ugh!” I exclaim, covering my face in horror because I know Sam got a good eyefull of the hot pink bra I’m wearing under my snowsuit. I had wondered if I was supposed to leave my clothes on underneath it, but it was such a process to get it on that I couldn’t stomach the idea of doing it again just to put my sweater on. And I figured, who would know?
Sam would know.
Because I’m an idiot.
I shake my head, and mumble, “I’m a mess.”
Sam’s still laughing. “Hey, you’re a hot mess at least.”
Nibbler
Most chicks would have bitched about the cold. Most chicks would have bitched about spending $474 on something other than a pair of designer shoes. Most chicks wouldn’t have touched a fish with their bare hands.
This chick…wasn’t like most chicks.
The following Monday, I’m back at work at Tire Depot, but my mind is most definitely not on tires. It’s on all things Maggie, which is actually really fucking embarrassing because I’m thirty years old and the sales manager of a successful company I’ll be taking over soon. I shouldn’t be obsessing over some young chick who happened to look really hot in a snowsuit. And also out of the snowsuit as it turns out.
I could have forgotten about the kiss we shared a lot easier if it wasn’t for the little peep show she gave me as a bonus. For the next two hours we spent fishing together, I had to threaten to dunk my cock into the icy lake every time he got a mind of his own and puffed up a little.
But all these Maggie thoughts are pointless right now because I have responsibilities I need to focus on. Like how I can bring Tire Depot to the next level and set myself up for early retirement just like my uncle.
Tire Depot is a huge car care center that my uncle Terry owns in Boulder. I’ve been working here since I was a kid, back when he and my dad used to run it together. Until they didn’t. Regardless, I have fond memories of coming here after school. I’d always get a soda and a cookie and mosey into the garage to gawk at the nudey calendars posted at the guys’ stations.
Now my uncle is prepping me to take the reins so he can retire and cruise up to Canada on his Harley. The guy is sixty-four years old and ready to drift off into his golden years like the lone wolf he’s always been.
“Sammy!” Uncle Terry bellows my name from his office in the back so loud that I can hear it all the way up in the reception area where I’m working at the high-top customer counter. “Come back here for a sec.”
I save my work and turn to make my way down the small hallway to his office. The walls are papered with classic car posters, various tire awards, and vacation pictures he’s taken throughout the years. Piles of papers that need to be filed cover his desk, but he never makes the time to do it.
I stare down at what he’s holding in his hands, and my blood runs cold when I see my three-ring binder opened in front of him. “This is your business plan?” he asks, scratching his white beard as he flips a few pages.
“Um…yes,” I reply, rubbing the back of my neck and shifting nervously. “But I wasn’t ready for you to see it yet. I’m not quite done.”
He looks up to me with a serious look in his eyes. “Well, this is a much bigger idea than the customer comfort center.”
“Yes, it is,” I acknowledge his reference to the first proposal I presented to him almost ten years ago.
I was fresh out of college with all these business classes swirling through my head, and I got the idea that providing complimentary beverages and snacks to our staff and customers would cultivate a positive company culture. Enter the customer comfort center, which resulted in a huge boost for business.
“So when do you want to go through this with me?” Terry asks, eyeing me seriously. “I’m not going to be around much longer, you know.”
I nod somberly. “Yeah, I know. Give me another week or two, and I’ll be ready.”
“Good,” he replies, closing the binder and handing it to me. “I look forward to it, Sammy.”
When he stands up and pats me on the back before making his way toward the shop, I exhale with relief that he didn’t totally flip out on me about this. I’ve been buying my uncle out of Tire Depot for the past five years, with plans for me to take over. But the contents inside this binder are a much bigger venture.
Tire Depot is the perfect future for me. I fucking love this place. The smell of tires and grease, complimentary coffee and baked goods, plus decent, hardworking guys earning an honest living for their families. It’s a good gig. I’ve come to really care about my employees and their families, and there is nowhere else I’d rather be. But I have dreams that would take us to the next level, and if I can get Terry’s blessing before he leaves, I’ll feel a lot better about things.
I exit his office and make my way back to the counter when a female voice interrupts my thoughts. I look over and see my best friend’s girlfriend strolling into the tire shop as if she owns the place.
“Michael! Did Shelly finish my book yet?” Kate asks with a big smile for my top salesman as she rests her elbow on a short stack of display tires.
“She did! And you were right…I totally got lucky.” Michael high-fives Kate.
