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Thursday, July 03, 2008

The following is an excerpt from my first book of the Valley Affairs Series. In no way is it to be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author.

August 20, 2005 (Saturday)

"Whew!" I was nearly finished planning additional inventory I intended to acquire for our Fall 2005 season, adding vintage, watches, sunglasses, lingerie, and other accessories in order to expand purchasing options within the boutique. As I had been doing for the most part of the day, I took another look at the clock to see that it was going on four-ten. And since I’d told my sister, Rosa, that I’d be picking her up at her apartment at four-thirty, I realized I’d better get going. So, I closed my shop planner and started straightening up my desk. But after hearing the front door slam a little louder than usual, I froze and tuned my ears into what was going on.

"If you don’t hand me all the money in those registers, I’m going to blow your fucking heads off!" I heard a recognizable, masculine voice threaten. I could also hear some of my employees screaming, crying, and begging for their lives.

I let out a lengthy sigh and rolled my eyes. "Not again." I grabbed my purse as I rose from my chair. And just as I heard the cash registers opening, I rushed to the front of the boutique, heading in the direction of the man holding what I knew to be a water gun. He was an indigent, yet harmless, mental case named Tyrone, and he took the liberty of trying to rob my boutique about every two months. It was like clockwork.

As I approached him, he turned to me and scratched through his disheveled, black hair with the water gun, as a child would’ve done when caught doing something naughty by his or her mother.

My employees, two new cashiers I’d hired a few weeks back, remained scared out of their wits and clueless as to what was really taking place. So, the closer I came to Tyrone in distance the more they dipped down, underneath the registers in order to seek shelter from possible gunfire. Poor things. They probably would’ve gone ahead and given Tyrone the money, which would’ve been a minor setback, one in which I would’ve had to come out of pocket for. As I’d told myself before, I needed to incorporate Tyrone’s robbery attempts in their job descriptions so they would know what to do if I or anyone who knew better wasn’t there. But I’d never gotten around to it. Thus, I was mentally pulling my own hair out as I witnessed how much terror they were in. Deciding I didn’t want the charade to go on any longer than it had to, I smiled at Tyrone, removed my wallet from my purse, then fished out a one-hundred dollar bill.

"Hi, Li," Tyrone nervously said. "How’s it goin’?"

"It was going fine until you decided to come in and rob us again."

His eyes went soft and he shook his head in shame. "I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so hungry. And I need somewhere to stay for a little while. God knows I could use a shower."

I slightly fanned my hand before my face as I got a whiff of his body odor. "And don’t I know it, too," I murmured as I shook my head. "But I’ve helped you with this before, Tyrone. So, why do you continue to go about getting what you want this way? I mean, you’re scaring my girls here, sweetie. And that’s not very fair to them."

He lowered his head as I put my arm around his shoulder. I extended the bill before his face. "I want you to take this. Get yourself something to eat and find a motel to stay in tonight. That way you can get all showered up and clean, have a good night’s rest on a full tummy, and be ready to face a new day." I held up a finger as a schoolteacher did when making a point. "Which is what?"

"A new day to make the changes I need to make in my life." He nodded, showing he remembered at least a portion of our last conversation. "But what am I supposed to do when the money runs out?"

"Well, certainly not this." I shrugged as my thoughts took me to a place most unexpected. And, for some reason, I felt more compelled to speak rather than ponder. "But I think I may have a solution for you." I squinted as I came to terms with what I was about to say. "How would you like to work for me, washing the mirrors and windows Monday through Friday?"

"Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, I am." I chuckled. "But I want you to be able to make your own money, and take better care of yourself. Because what you’re doing now is something that could possibly get you killed. And that’s not something I want to see." I held up another finger. "But no coming to work drunk or high. No more attempts to rob us. And no stealing. Or I’m going to have to fire you, not only placing a call to your case worker, but to the police as well."

"I understand." He took in a deep breath as tears filled his eyes. "And I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad at me, Li. And don’t think I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me, because I really do. I’m just havin’ a tough time. That’s all."

"Just promise me you won’t do this again. And I want you to mean it this time."

"I promise." He stood upright as if someone had just tightened his spine. "And if you give me a job here, I promise I won’t let you down."

"I hope not," I rushed to say as reservations continued to pester me. "Now, give me the water gun, go handle your business, and come see me around three in the afternoon on Monday."

"Yes, ma’am." He smiled, handed me the water gun, then saluted like an officer in the military.

I watched as he skipped out of the store and all I could manage to do was shake my head with a smirk. I couldn’t lie. The man had grown on me, like a vine. And it actually worried me more to go without seeing him than it did when he was pointing a water gun in my face and taking my money. So, I had to have been just as crazy as he was. Go figure.

Feeling an urgent need for business to continue on as usual, I clapped my hands in chop-chop fashion. "All right, everybody. I’m sorry for the scare, but the show is, now, over. And we must get back to work." I marched back into my office, printed out my to-do list for Monday, then shut down my computer.

About ten minutes later, as I was rearranging a few more things on my desk, Alicia Jiminez, one of my boutique managers, stepped in my doorway. "I heard Tyrone was here again." She sat in the chair across from mine. "Don’t you take that as some sort of sign that we should finally get security up in here?"

"Tyrone is harmless."

"The man is crazy. And there’s no telling when he’ll bring a real gun in here."

"Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore."

"And why is that?"

"Because I gave him a job."

"You what?!" She shook her head. "A man who basically robs you by taking one hundred bucks from you after a foiled robbery is given a job here?! Are you kidding me?!" She laughed, then dropped her jaw in an exaggerated fashion. "You sure have a unique way of doing things, Li."

"Gosh, but don’t I know it." I grinned.

"Un-friggin-believable."

"And just so you know…I give him the money out of the kindness of my heart. Not out of fear. Because even if I were to say no to him, I highly doubt he would do anything to harm anyone else."

"On that note, I say speak for yourself. And, on a second note, I think you need to consider the possibility of another psycho paying us a visit. One with more serious intent than Tyrone. Which is why I still think you should—"

"I’m working on it, Alicia. I’ve already been in contact with Guardco, and I’m working on a contract for round-the-clock security services with firearm certified guards. Just like we talked about."

"Well, speaking on other terms," she glimpsed at her watch, "aren’t you going to be late?"

I took a peek at the clock again, saw that it was four-forty, and hacked a sigh. "Oh, no," I said as I sprung up from my chair.

It was the opening of my boyfriend Mike’s second club and I was beyond excited for him, to the point in which it felt like my own accomplishment. I was nervous, too. Just the thought of him achieving yet another one of his lifelong goals sent a jolt of lightening throughout my entire body, jerking every single one of my nerves, which is why I found it nearly impossible to sit down the entire day. I usually didn’t even go in on Saturdays, but I had to do something with my time, or else I would’ve gone stir crazy.

"I guess I’d better get a move on."

"My suggestion as well. I know you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you were late."

"No, I wouldn’t." I pushed the chair in with my hip. "But what I’m not looking forward to is picking up my sisters. They’re at each other’s throats again."

"When are they not at each other’s throats?"

"You’ve got a point there."

"You guys are a riot. Never a boring minute when the three of you are together."

"Hey." I pointed a finger at her. "You mean the two of them. Because in no way am I as dramatic as they are."

"No. Of course not," she said with a touch of sarcasm.

I giggled. "So, are you staying until twelve or what?"

Unlike other boutiques and shops in Merced whose operating hours were typically nine to five, I decided to run a boutique that remained open for sixteen hours—eight to twelve. Boutiques that targeted the same demographics, who operated on eight hours, and didn’t remain open as long, were losing out on a lot of profit, and I didn’t want to be one of them.

It seemed like perfect reasoning since a large proportion of the clients we were targeting got off of work at five, and we were in the business of providing R&R—equipped with rooms containing a tanning bed, jacuzzi, sauna, a masseuse for massages, a cosmetologist for facials, waxes, and body scrubs, as well as a nail technician for manicures and pedicures. An open bar with a licensed bartender was also available to paying customers. The accessible spa treatment serving as a local resort to those in need of it most.

"Yeah, I’m staying. I don’t want to leave Marie and Tosha on their own just yet." She sighed. "And just so you’re aware of it….Carmen called in again."

Carmen, one of my supervising cashiers, and almost needless to say, my cousin, seemed to think she had it like that when it came to her job. But I, who never cared much for her or her attitude, was ready to prove she didn’t. The quickest sum I could give of her was the fact that she was a whore and, worst of all, she was a whore who was after my man. Such a harsh thing to say about one’s own blood, I knew. But it was the pure truth. And the only reason I decided to give her the job was because her mother made the plea to mine, in hopes of teaching her daughter some form of responsibility as well as helping with the multi-thousand dollar hardship she’d managed to accumulate on her parents’ credit card within a period of a year. Since it, in the end, was my mother who was requesting for me to give her the job, I felt I wasn’t in a position to say no. But I was no longer in a position to continue saying yes either. "I’m starting to think I’m going to have to replace her."

"You’d be doing me a favor if you do."

"Even though I know I’m not going to hear the end of it, you can consider it done. Find a replacement for her. You make the choice this time." I straightened out the lapels of my treasured Dolce and Gabbana pantsuit, then added firing Carmen to my to-do list. "If she can’t be here when she needs to be, then she doesn’t deserve a job here. Just as it would be for anyone else."

"Right you are."

"Well, I’d better scoot." I walked over to the doorway and turned off the light to my office. Alicia stepped out of the way as I closed the door. "You guys try not to have too much fun without me." I chuckled as I waved goodbye to Marie and Tosha with my signature, beauty-queen wave.

"Don’t forget your interview with Lori on Monday!" Alicia shouted from behind.

"I won’t," I said as I was leaving out of the front door. I then rushed over to my Escalade, unlocked it with my remote, chucked my planner in the passenger seat, and got in. As I started the car, all I could do was smile when I thought about where both Mike and I were at in our lives. The points we were at in our careers. No doubt that we were truly blessed.

But I couldn’t say things were always looking on the up and up for me. Instead of heading off to college straight out of high school, I decided to establish a literary agency on a whim because of my love for reading. I was able to find one client whose work I took a great interest in, and shopped his work around until I was bleeding from the eyes. Yet, no one would bite. But simple luck had found its way into my life and my first client’s manuscript did for me what John Grisham’s The Firm did for Jay Garon.

While I was in Los Angeles, attending one of the infamous parties of my brother, Rico, who was also a successful Hollywood music producer, he introduced me to Breck Jones, an NBC executive producer of four prosperous television shows, with another five of them under his belt that had been canceled after several years of airtime. I mean, the man had made NBC billions of dollars. So, when he agreed to look at the manuscript, I couldn’t even explain my excitement. I had tears in my eyes when he took it from my hands.

He decided to buy it once he read it, believing he could turn it into a thriving television series, which he did—Celebrity Players. He purchased it for ten million dollars, and I couldn’t have been happier for what he considered to be a favor since a little more work and rewriting on the manuscript was needed. It also had to be converted into multiple teleplays. So, I knew I was fortunate. And I would never forget Breck for the courtesy he’d extended to me.

Besides with Rosa, I’d never discussed what my favor to him was and hoped I never had to do so in the future. The way I saw it, all affluent career women had to sacrifice a little something in order to get ahead. Being younger and dumber then, I was quick to sacrifice my body.

But subsequent to that, there were no other manuscripts I found an interest in, which meant no other deals, and I found the field of agenting too stressful for what it was worth, especially at the tender age of eighteen. So, I decided to give managing another type of business a try—desperate to be my own boss.

I decided to invest the money I’d made and saved from my book sale into a high-end boutique and spa with sexy, young, hip, and edgy designs, including every type of treatment a woman could expect at a spa. I chose to call the boutique Sky’s, since I felt the sky would be the limit when it came to fashion and the pampering of a woman. Corny. But when it came to the creation of a business name, I had to admit I was without. Only thing of my concern was getting the job done, because there weren’t very many stores or boutiques that sold high-end clothing and accessories in Merced, and I wanted to make a difference in that aspect.

After getting Rico to make an investment, I was set. Business started off a little slow and there was some profit loss the first year. After all, I was pretty much in it alone and had to do the planning, budgeting, store layout and design, merchandising, hiring of specialists, sales, and marketing on my own. But no matter what, I was hell-bent on being successful. And I ended up being much more successful than I thought I ever would be. Because I was an Afro-Latina, I thought my success was going to be limited, but apparently God had other plans for me.

Just as my thoughts caused me to visualize the success of my boutiques and the use of my own name climbing to even greater heights, my cell phone rang. I knew it was Rosa, wondering where the hell I was. So, I decided not to answer and haul ass over to her apartment, because I wasn’t in the mood for her yapping. The way I saw it, there was no way I was going to let anyone or anything get my spirits down for the night, because it was far too special to be ruined.

*****

Posted by Charli Cole :: 11:58 PM :: 2 Comments:

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