MORE OF SOMETHING MORE,
a story about a salesman trying to establish himself,
a CEO scheming to buy out his father's influence
and the woman important to each
27
As the limo sped from the mansion, Bill
observed in the mirror valets who seemed to lean into the frame
and think, “Did I see that?” In the back, he saw Slade hunched and looking
forward, an angry knot on his brow. He pressed the accelerator and the CEO fell
back against the seat. In the opposite corner Helen lay upright with the vacant
eyes of a forgotten doll. He was driving them to the downtown condo; that much
was clear. What to do with the elephant in the rear, less so.
He stopped at the gates and after they
swung open, turned onto the two-lane road that would connect to the freeway. On
a weekend afternoon people were around, which told him he’d be working late. He
let off the pedal. All those people eating and drinking at the wedding and he
could only manage a nip.
“Why are you slowing down?” Slade’s eyes
met his in the mirror. He pressed on the pedal, swerved across the dashed white
line to pass a car then returned to the lane. They reached a small business
district where he tailgated a white SUV and honked until it pulled over. Racing
to the next stop sign, he let off then sped through the intersection. The
houses were crowded close and after navigating a lateral arc, they went onto
the freeway.
The entitled had their ways.
From bouncing at the clubs he saw them carry expectations easily and in the
open, which convinced others of their status. But stand in the way, and they
let loose holy hell. That worked when the other guy was afraid of being
embarrassed. He liked waiting for somebody to cross the line, then pop! a
bloody nose. Their feelings were what really stung. He saw it in their eyes.
Slade had his way, and he was boss.
Follow orders or else, though Bill considered “else” an option to pursue another
occupation. The world had plenty of bosses. He’d do whatever he had to in his
name, but didn’t want anything sticking to him. “What about him, Mister
Slade.”
“Use your imagination.”
“My mind goes into dark places. Tell
me.”
“I don’t want him bothering me or her again. Tell him then dump him. What’s wrong with you?”
“This is the third time.”
“Be more persuasive.”
“Maybe if he didn’t have a reason to
come around.”
“This is business.” He glared out the
window.
A thump like a shifting load came from
the trunk, followed by punching and kicking sounds. “He finds the release and
everybody will see.” He moved behind
cars headed for the off-ramp, which fed into an intersection. He made a right
then jerked the limo forward. The pounding stopped for several moments before
starting again as they passed fast food restaurants and gas stations. He turned
into a small road, pulled into a drive to change direction then pressed a
button below the dash.
The trunk sprung open and Atom Green
popped out. He did a frantic 360 before rushing the cab and pounding the
fender. The limo screeched away. Slade was watching the chauffeur. “What are
you so satisfied about?”
“The way he self-deported didn’t cost me
a thing.”
“It will if he bothers me again.”
“What about her?”
Helen had slipped to the floor and was
reaching out blindly. Slade pulled her up and resettled her on the seat. She
brought her hands to her face, seeming to pull something away. “When we get to
the condo, use the underground garage. I’ll take her from there. ‘Too much
champagne, poor girl.’”
The characters and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.
