Bad Boy Billionaires #3 - The Vegas Shark(21)

On Sunday, Treston went to a discount hair salon and had his blond streaks touched up so he'd look perfect. The colorist went a little too heavy on the bleach and she made him look totally blond, but he liked the way he looked so much he didn't ask her to tone it down. He shaved his body, including pubic hair. It made him feel sexy and blond all over. On the way home, a truck driver passed him, honked the horn, and gave him thumbs up with both hands. A guy on a motorcycle almost swerved into oncoming traffic. When he passed a couple of Latino guys climbing out of a plumbing truck, they whistled and made lewd comments about his ass. Though he flung them both a dirty look, he had to admit deep down he enjoyed the attention. Oh, he'd learned the moment he'd had those blond streaks done a few years ago for the first time, the world turned into a different place. There was something about blonds that seemed to attract attention. And the blonder a person was, the more attention they seemed to attract.

On Monday morning he put on his new tight red skinny jeans-the ones he'd bought because he'd seen them on an MTV video, and because he'd heard red skinny jeans were the latest trend in New York. Then he put on a tight black V-neck sweater, a black leather blazer he'd bought because he'd always read they were classic, and his favorite pair of almost Prada half boots. These boots were really Scandia Woods, not actually Prada. But they looked so much like Prada, no one could ever tell the difference at a glance. And he'd only paid a fraction of the cost with Scandia Woods than he would have paid for real Prada. He even wore his lucky black thong that morning, the one with the see-through lacy front. The first time he'd worn it, he'd won ten dollars in one of the casinos at a slot machine.

He took a taxi to the used-car dealership and told the driver to drop him off at a corner a block away. He didn't want anyone to see him arrive in a taxi. When he crossed the street and glanced up at the "Lucky Vegas Louie's Used Cars" sign, he took a deep breath and exhaled. He hadn't been on a formal interview or applied for a job since he'd walked into Chickey's club a few years earlier,a nd that hadn't even been a real interview. He'd walked in, Chickey looked him up and down, then asked him to strip down to his underwear. He'd hired Treston on the spot, without even asking him to fill out an application.




 

 

The building at Lucky Vegas Louie's was a long flat affair in lime green painted stucco that looked as if it had once been a gas station where they'd done auto repairs. When Treston glanced at the used-car inventory he noticed a lot of domestic luxury cars-long, flashy Cadillacs and Lincolns-had to be at least five years old. They all had bright white prices written in the windshields and little sayings that read, "Drives like a dream," or, "Pull up in style," in uneven print. He saw one huge pink Cadillac that had to be twenty years old with a saying that read, "Only driven to church on Sundays."

He entered through a single glass front door that had an "open" sign hanging lopsided from a string. Inside, it smelled like machine oil and there weren't any windows except for a large glass display window in the front that didn't open and was hazed with smudges. The walls were gray cinderblock, the floors darker gray, the overhead lights fluorescent, and the office furniture reminded him of those old gunmetal desks from high school. In one corner he noticed a small sitting area with Danish modern furniture upholstered in orange vinyl. The sofa had a six-inch rip and the stuffing was coming out. In another corner he saw a reception desk in front of a wall with calendars and semi-nude women in provocative bunny costumes posing in exaggerated positions.

The room was empty, so he crossed to the desk where the calendars hung and looked around to see if anyone in the back. A clock on the wall said it was only eight in the morning. He figured Monday was probably a slow time of week for the car-buying crowd. When he saw no one at all around, he started to feel awkward about being there so early and almost turned to leave.

But then a deep voice came from a small office behind the reception desk. "Can I help you?"

Treston leaned to the right, peeked into the office, and saw a man sitting behind another metal desk. "Ah well, I'm here about the job I saw advertised on Craigslist. I could come back another time if you're busy." The man didn't look like Treston had expected a used car dealer to look. He'd been expecting a middle-aged bald guy with a paunch, a short-sleeved dress shirt, and a clip-on tie that stopped three inches above his belt. Although this guy was wearing a conservative gray suit, white shirt, and navy tie, his wavy black hair was cut short with a little turned-up wave and he had small diamond chips in both ears.

The man stood up and walked into the main room. He extended his right hand over the desk and looked Treston up and down. "I'm Jake. I'm the manager."

Up close, he was even younger than Treston had expected. Treston shook his hand and said, "I'm Treston Fair Leigh and I'm here to apply for the job as used-car salesperson." He started to feel excited all over. He couldn't stop smiling. 

Jake looked him up and down again and said, "Why don't we go into my office and close the door? I have a feeling I know what this is all about. I get it." Then he set his palm on Treston's back and gave him a gentle push.

When they were in the office, Jake sat behind his desk and Treston sat down in a green vinyl chair in front of the desk.

Jake leaned forward on his elbows and laced his fingers together. He smiled at Treston and said, "I'm surprised you're here this early. I had a feeling Joe would do this, but I wasn't expecting you this soon. I figured you'd come around later at night. Ha-ha."

Treston thought it was an odd comment, but he wanted to make a good first impression. He figured Jake was speaking in a general sense about all the people who might stop by to apply for the job. So he crossed his legs and smiled. "I'm sorry if I'm too early, Jake. I just wanted to get here before everyone else started arriving. I could come back later if you like."

Jake glanced at Treston's legs and said, "No problem, not at all. I'm glad you're here early. It's much better that no one else is here. They don't show up on Monday until noon. It's typically a slow morning and we have the whole place to ourselves. I just want to go out and lock the front door. I don't want any customers coming in. I'll be right back."

Treston thought this was odd, too. Why would he need to lock the door to interview him? When Jake returned and locked the office door and said, "I'm really glad you're here this early because I'm more of a morning type of guy," Treston's eyes grew wider. He figured the guy wanted to keep the interview private, so he said nothing.

Jake went back to his desk and sat down. "You have perfect timing."

Treston exhaled and laughed. "Well, that's a huge relief. I know how important it is to make a good impression. I really want you to like me."

"Oh, I like what I see, so don't worry about that. And I double locked the office door, so no one will interrupt us. The receptionist has a key to the front door, but not my office door."

This dude certainly had a thing about locked doors. "You don't know how good this makes me feel," Treston said. "I've been so nervous about this I almost didn't sleep last night. It's the first time I've done anything like this in a while. I figured it's best to be honest and up front from the beginning. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression."

"I'll be honest, too," Jake said. "I'm open to anything. But it's the first time I've ever done this myself. I'm kind of new at it, so to speak. My buddy, Joe, has been suggesting it for a long time and I've been too scared to take the plunge. But he finally talked me into it and I decided, what the hell? I'm game. I might even like it." Then he winked at Treston.

Treston felt a tug in his chest. He thought it was heartwarming to think this was the first time Jake had ever interviewed someone for a position. He smiled and said, "I'm so glad I'm your first. Why don't I tell you a little bit about myself and then you can ask me any questions you want? I'm open to anything."

Jake's head tipped sideways, as if he didn't understand. But he smiled and said, "Sure, tell me anything you want. But it's up to you. I'm the kind of guy who doesn't like to get too personal." Then he removed his tie and his jacket and sat all the way back in his chair with his legs wide open.

"Don't you want to know about my past experience?" Treston asked. This was getting strange; he figured it was because it was Jake's first real interview. It might also work in his favor.




 

 

Jake leaned forward to remove his shoes and socks. He glanced up and said, "It's not mandatory. I saw you doing the ping-pong ball routine at the club with Joe a couple of weeks ago and that's all I need to know."

"You saw my act at the club?" Treston asked. He felt his stomach sink, and his heart began to race. "But I'm here for the salesperson job."

Jake stood up and unbuckled his belt. As he dropped his pants, he laughed and said, "I like that. It's cute. Keep doing it. We can pretend that's why you're here. When Joe said he'd hire a guy for my birthday he didn't go into any details. And I had no idea the guy would turn out to be you. But it's a nice touch. I like pretending." Then he stepped out of his pants and removed his shirt.