LC
17
Orlando walked into my office, looking tired and run down. He and Rio had come straight from the plane to the dealership after their final meeting with the cooperative up in Detroit. From the look on his face as he sat down in the chair to my right, I could tell he’d been unsuccessful in securing a distribution deal. Truth be told, I didn’t think they had a snowball’s chance in hell of negotiating a deal when I sent them, but as desperate as we were, it was worth a shot. Hell, I don’t think if I’d sent them up there with a suitcase full of money, they could have gotten those old boys to help us.
“How did it go?” I asked, more to break our silence than anything else.
“They said no, Pop.” Orlando leaned back in his chair, sighing as he loosened his tie. Like me, he hated failure.
“It’s okay, son. I figured they would.” I nodded my head in understanding as I ran my hand through my hair. “There’s a lot of bad blood between us and the cooperative since we went foreign and high-end. I guess they feel like I got too big for my britches. Who knows? Maybe they’re right.”
Orlando said, “Yeah, I got the impression they didn’t like you too much, Pop. Quite a few of them, especially Richard Coleman, seemed to be enjoying the fact that you were having problems.”
“Yeah, well, Coleman’s got an axe to grind. I’m sure that when I left the cooperative, it took a lot of money out of his pockets just in margins alone.” I sat back in my chair, second-guessing my decision to leave the cooperative. I was now seeing the wisdom behind the old adage that there’s safety in numbers. It was not good news to hear that the chairman of the cooperative was still holding a grudge.
“Enough about Richard Coleman,” I said. “How’d Rio do?”
Orlando sat back in his chair. “Surprisingly well. He kept his mouth shut when he was supposed to and did what he had to do when the time came. We may not have gotten what we wanted, but we left there with quite a bit of information about how they do business. I take it you knew Simons was gay?”
“Let’s just say I was pretty sure Rio was right up his alley.” I’d sent Rio with Orlando, instead of sending Harris or Junior, because I knew Mark Simons, the number two man behind Richard Coleman, had a thing for young men in their twenties. “So what did Rio find out?”
“Well, for starters, they’re hurting far worse than we are from the slowdown in production and government intervention. Coleman’s looking to make a deal with Alejandro from out west. For some reason, Alejandro doesn’t seem to be affected the same way as we are on the East Coast and the cooperative in the Midwest.”
“I haven’t figured it out quite yet, but there is something up with Alejandro. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be the reason for all our problems.”
“I hope not.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
“Well, I know you don’t particularly like him, but on the way home I was thinking maybe we should give him a call. I mean, it can’t be any worse than talking to Coleman. Besides, he always seemed cool to me. He’s never seemed disrespectful when I’ve seen him, and he always asks how you and Momma are. You always told me business was business, never personal, so I never understood why you didn’t wanna do business with him in the first place.”
“It’s a long story, son, but I’m glad to see you’re thinking. And you’re right. Business is business.” I was about to explain myself when Paris poked her head in my office.
“Daddy, your three o’clock is here.”
“Thanks, princess. Why don’t you send him in and ask Harris to join us.”
“Okay. You want me to sit in on this as well? I can take notes,” she replied.
“No, I don’t think it will be necessary.”
Paris looked like she wanted to say something, but then she must have thought twice about it, because she pulled her head back through the door. She was still on relatively good behavior after her incident with Trevor.
“Listen, Pop, if you’ve got a meeting, we can talk about this later.” Orlando stretched, getting up from his chair.
“No, no, son. I want you in on this. I think you’re going to see that I can think outside the box as well.”
“All right, but can I ask you a quick question?”
I nodded as he sat back down.
“Why’d you send Rio up there to seduce that man? You would have never let Paris or London do anything like that.”
“I sent him there because this family is in trouble and I had to use everything at my disposal to save it. Make no mistake. Every member of this family has talents that are very valuable to our operation. If you’re going to lead this family, you better understand it and be ready to use those talents whenever it’s necessary.” I took a cigar out of the box on my desk and clipped the tip. “Son, we’ll have to finish this conversation another time. It looks like our guest has arrived.”
Orlando turned to the door, and we both stood up to greet the handsome and well-dressed Latino gentleman in his early thirties that Paris had ushered into my office.
“Daddy, this is Miguel Sota. Miguel, this is my father, LC Duncan.”
“Buenos días, Miguel,” I said as he shook my hand. Paris’s eyes lustfully lingered on Miguel before I shooed her away. Orlando saw it as well, but he didn’t bother to react. He was learning.
“Miguel, this is my son Orlando.”
“Señor Duncan ... er ... both of you, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He spoke with a heavy accent. I liked his manners, as well as his composure, especially after whatever his employer had told him about me before he came from California. To some in the business, I could be the devil; to others, something worse.
“No, no, Miguel, the pleasure is ours. Come, have a seat.” I motioned toward the open leather chair next to Orlando.
“Would you like something to drink?” Orlando asked, stepping up so as to not be a spectator in what he now perceived to be an important meeting.
“No. I’m fine,” Miguel replied. “Paris already asked me. And after a long flight, I’m just ready to get down to business. That is, if you don’t mind, sir?”
“No, not at all. Orlando, Miguel works for Alejandro.”
Orlando nodded his head with a smile. “I see. How is he?” Orlando asked as Harris entered the room, carrying a folder. He sat to the right of Miguel.
“Doing good, in spite of the economy. When some of our competitors struggled and failed in Las Vegas, he managed to move right in and expand into that market.”
I glanced over at Orlando. “Yes, I hear he’s doing a lot of that lately. Is he being backed by anyone?”
“No, sir. Not that I know of.”
I studied him, hoping to see some type of chink in his facade. He gave away nothing.
He continued, “He just sees opportunity and takes it.”
“That sounds like him. Did you know I used to do business with Alejandro a lot back in the day, when I was getting established and branching out? We were just two up-and-coming minority dealers from two opposite sides of the country, looking to make moves in their respective markets. I learned a lot from him about distribution and networks. I hope he learned a lot from me about sales.”
“Yes, he has mentioned this many times,” Miguel stated, making me feel a lot better about the possibilities of working with Alejandro. “He says that you are a great businessman and we can all learn much from you.”
“I hope so, Miguel, because this deal he proposes could change the way we all do business. He must really trust you to have you broker it.”
“I believe he does,” Miguel said, pride evident on his face.
“Good! Then I must trust you too. Y’know, even though me and your boss butt heads from time to time, there is always respect.”
“With that in mind, he wanted me to discuss the final terms of our proposal to become your new distributor. I know you and Senor Alejandro have discussed the basics, but I thought you might want to see the numbers in black and white.”
He handed me a folder, which I in turn handed to Harris. He opened it and scanned the paperwork it contained. When he finished, he smiled and handed it to Orlando, who did the same when he was done reading.
“Alejandro did tell you that this deal hinges on one thing, didn’t he?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, you want Senor Alejandro’s 1957 Corvette Roadster.”
“He did tell you I used to own that ’57 Corvette Roadster? It’s been a sore spot between us for years.”
I pointed to a picture of me standing next to a fully restored red and white classic 1957 Corvette Roadster with barely one thousand miles on its engine. I’d lost the car to Alejandro in a poker game almost twenty years ago, during a business trip to Las Vegas. That was the last business transaction we’d done, because I believed he’d cheated in that game, miraculously pulling a straight flush to my full house. In any other situation I would have protested, but considering I was in his part of the country, he had several of his men there, and I was alone, I figured it was best to give up the keys. I’d regretted that mistake to this day, but my baby was finally coming home. Of course, now I had to pay 2011 prices for its return, but I was glad Alejandro had taken good care of it.
“I hated parting with that car.”
“And he equally hates parting with it now, sir, but in the interest of business and good relations, he has agreed to your terms.”
“Glad to hear that.” I glanced over at the boys. “Orlando, Harris, what do think of the deal we’ve made? Should we do it?”
“I can’t see any reason not to. It gives us a steady supply of inventory for the next five years and covers all my concerns,” Harris explained.
“It’s a no-brainer, Pop. These terms are almost as good as Lee’s when you take out the shipping.”
“Very good,” I said, reaching across my desk to shake his hand. “Miguel, it looks like we have a deal—as long as I get my Roadster back in one piece.”
“I can assure you we will take the utmost care in delivering the Corvette to you, Senor Duncan, as I will be here personally to ensure delivery once payment is made. That is why Alejandro wanted to make sure we met.”
“My brother Junior will be your contact for transport on our end,” Orlando said. He was all into the details, back from whatever mental vacation that trip to Long Island had him on. “How do you plan on making delivery of the Roadster, considering its value?”
“A special tractor-trailer transport fitted with special bracing and retrofitted to fit classic cars. It keeps them from picking up any damage during the trip. We use them a lot for this type of transport,” Miguel replied calmly.
“Yeah, so do we. What about security? I mean, we’re not talking about a few Camrys here. If that car is what you say it is, it’s worth more than both our paychecks.”
“It’s worth more than both your lives,” I interjected.
“Of course. All will be secure, as per your father’s arrangement with Alejandro. We, of course, will guarantee delivery.”
“Sounds good. You can see me about payment,” Orlando confirmed, looking at me with a smile as he checked off on everything. He handed Miguel his card. “Junior will get with you and nail down the route and delivery date in the next few days, but don’t hesitate to call me if something comes up.”
“Bien.”
“How long are you in town?” I asked as we walked out of my office.
“I head back to L.A. in the morning, but I will be back a few days before the first shipment.”
I patted him on the back. “Well, let me see you out, then. I have an apartment nearby that you’re free to use, if you’d like. Anything else you need while in town, just let me or Orlando know. My son Rio owns a club that I think you might like also. You have our numbers, and we’ll be sure to answer,” I said, cutting a look at Orlando.
Outside my office, I led Miguel to the showroom floor, while we waited for Orlando to double-check all the facts and figures of our agreement. Miguel was drawn to the black Continental GT instantly, peering in its windows and admiring its powerful lines as he circled it.
“You like?”
“I love it. It’s beautiful,” he gushed, his eyes ablaze. “Señor Alejandro does not deal in such expensive European cars as you. He is more comfortable with domestic brands and Japanese cars, as you know.”
“When you’re ready for one, come see me. I’ll let you have one at my cost,” I said with a smile. Even though I wasn’t actively involved in sales these days, the allure of a potential deal still gave me a rush.
“You are most generous, Senor Duncan.”
“Daddy, here are those purchase orders you asked for,” Paris said as she approached us. This could’ve waited, but at least she was following my instructions and being productive in the office until she was needed.
“Thank you,” I said curtly, letting her know I was still busy.
She hadn’t noticed Miguel, who was now seated inside the Bentley, and broke into a wide grin when she did. His smile for the car was now devoted to my daughter, as he tried to discreetly check out her body.