Page 17 of Come Ride With Me
“Yeah,” Earl said as he took another few steps back, away from Nash. “Listen to your little friend before you regret it. Go on in your corner and fix some bikes. That’s what I pay you for.”
“I don’t believe in regrets,” Nash told him. “But I do believe in returning favors. Bell gave me a chance here so I’m going to stick around until the very end, doing everything in my power to keep this place afloat for him. Not for you.Neverfor you.”
Earl turned away from Nash, resuming his place at the head of the table. “That’s why I called today’s meeting. We’ve got to cut a few things to get us in prime financial position.”
“What else are we going to cut? We’re already down to a skeletal staff. The sales department is working sixty-to-seventy-five-hour work weeks. We’ve stopped carrying the popular bikes that were bringing in the best sales and hell, we don’t even have the vending machines in here anymore.”
This was from Otto, the oldest of the sales team, a man that had started working here within the first few years of the opening. This meant he wasn’t afraid to push back against Earl either, as evidenced by the way he sat back casually in his seat, his beefy hands folded over the hard mound of his stomach.
“I think we should cut out that service plan and stop spending time and money fixing so many bikes,” Earl told them.
Nash immediately frowned. He knew where Earl was going with this. The man had been trying to cut out their entire department for the last year.
“Wait a minute, you want to cut the service department?” Rock asked. “The MC clubs in the area depend on us to offer timely and quality service. They have for years. Besides, with the Ride Rendezvous coming up in the next couple of months, every biker in the DMV area will want their bikes tuned up. You can’t cut our department. Not right now.”
Nash agreed with everything Rock said. Not only was there loyalty between the clubs and Bellamy Motors, there was a great deal of money that came in with the Ride Rendezvous. Not only did the local clubs stop by for maintenance and upgrades before the weekend-long event, but the event itself brought hundreds of out-of-town bikers in. Those bikers would also be interested in whatever new bikes they had on display. Nash was always present at the Rendezvous talking to the riders and making sure they knew all that Bellamy Motors had to offer, like the drop-off and delivery service he’d implemented for repairs or detail work for those who didn’t live in Destine.
“Your department is leaking money,” Earl countered. “Expensive supplies and his paints are through the roof! We don’t need to offer the detailing anymore either.”
“So, I’m out of a job? Is that what you’re saying?” Webby asked as he stood so fast, his chair wobbled behind him.
“You’re going to start firing people?” Kandra followed-up. “I’ve got three kids in school, one on his way to college. I’m struggling as it is, Earl. If there are going to be lay-offs then I need to start looking for a job now.”
There was another grumble or two about looking for a job, or not wanting to look for a job. Nash heard them but he’d been staring at Earl, wondering what the man really had on his mind. Standing here, easily planting this fear and discontent into every employee was a calculated move, Nash was sure of that. These were exactly the reactions Earl had expected. The more people who ran out and found another job on their own, the less he would have to fire. Announcing more cuts, just months after he’d cut lunch hours, day care and other personal incentives the staff had become accustomed to was no coincidence either.
Earl had been cleverly inserting his cuts and changes into this company since the first day he’d walked through the doors. That had been when he’d decided to tint the front windows of the dealership, citing that rays from the sun were staining the floors and prematurely yellowing the white paint on the walls. Bell’s immediate reaction was that with tinted windows new customers wouldn’t see their bikes and hence would not come in to buy. Earl had eventually sold Bell on the idea by telling him it would save money that they could put into advertising instead.
Years before Earl’s arrival, Bell had met with a marketing executive who suggested commercials that would air in the DMV aiming at their core clientele and creating a bold social media campaign. She’d also suggested Bell continue his support of the local clubs by sponsoring a charity event each year, hence the Ride Rendezvous that had grown from a cook-out on the back lot of the dealership, scheduled the Sunday before Memorial Day to what it was now, an entire weekend celebration of the local clubs and all they did in the community, with proceeds going to at least three charities per year. The exposure had led to a steady increase in sales and service orders because the riders of those clubs were loyal. So, Earl’s mention of more marketing had been music to Bell’s ears.
In the time Earl had worked here, he’d fought like hell to stop the Rendezvous, and while Bell—as he’d grown sicker—had given in to most of Earl’s ideas and cuts, he would not let go of the yearly celebration. He said it was his way of giving back to all who had supported him. But Bell was gone now and Nash knew what Earl was going to say moments before he actually said it.
“If you don’t want employee cuts then we’ll have to do something bigger to keep money in-house,” Earl told them as he folded his hands in front of him. “We can cut that Rendezvous event out completely. We spend upwards of thirty-five grand for it each year and we’ve been giving away about eighty-five percent of our profit from the event.”
“Wait a minute,” Rock argued. He leaned over the table, smacking his palms down flat on its top. “The clubs look forward to the Rendezvous. Man, some of them actually depend on it to help with their private community outreach.”
“Let them have their own fundraisers then,” Earl snapped back.
“That’s not right,” Rock continued.
Nash knew that Rock rode with the Night Hawks, a club that started in Washington D.C., but had migrated to Virginia over the years. Rock never kept that a secret, especially since he often wore his club jacket to work and posted their club’s flyers about fundraisers and events in this very lunch room. Still, he doubted Earl gave a damn.
“Right or wrong, that’s the choice we’ll have to make,” Earl said.
“And what if we don’t want to make that choice? What if we wait until this new owner shows his face and tell him what works for this dealership, what it means to the community and all. Maybe he’ll veto these changes,” Webby suggested.
It was Earl’s turn to slam his hands on the desk. “I run this place! Not some joker who probably doesn’t know a Hayabusa from a freakin’ 10 speed bike! Now I came to you in the spirit of compromise, but I don’t need your permission. I don’t need to ask anybody what I can or can’t do with this dealership!”
Gritting his teeth, Nash realized Earl’s words were one hundred percent correct. He didn’t need them to approve or agree with what he wanted to do. He could do it anyway. Unless somebody stopped him.
Chapter 6
Mica
“Are you working with him to sell this place? I need to know right now if that’s why you suddenly appeared.”
Mica had been walking to her car when she saw him leaning against her trunk. He wore his usual cargo work pants, boots, and the thick leather jacket he put on when it was time to come outside. Temperatures had dropped suddenly yesterday and Mica had been forced to head to one of the department stores in town to purchase a heavier coat. She’d bundled up tight in the sky-blue puffy coat with matching hat and gloves before leaving her tiny office and braving the bone-chilling cold.
“Who are you talking about and who said this place was being sold?”
