There was a knock at the door.
Daniel slowly approached it. Anyone who came up to the penthouse had to be approved and announced. There had been no announcement. Who could possibly get past security? Carl.
"Here, Daniel. You'll need to leave the suit at home. I brought you these to change into."
Daniel opened up the big brown paper bag. His jaws clenched. "Carl, what the hell is this?"
"Your clothes."
Taking the bag with him, Daniel went to his room and dumped the contents out on his bed. He laughed hard and loud.
"I'm not wearing these!" Daniel shouted, but no response came from Carl. He lifted the clothing up to his face, expecting to smell something foul. He decided to put them on, knowing that nothing would fit; after all, his clothes were custom made. But they did. Kill me now. Daniel stood in front of the full-length mirror again and cringed. The blue plaid flannel shirt and faded jeans were setting his insides on fire. Work boots? He is going too far! Daniel stormed out of the room and stood in front of Carl, fuming.
"Well, you definitely look different, Daniel. Those will do just fine. Come along." Carl had to restrain himself.
"I have no say-so in this, do I?" Daniel said in a voice full of panic.
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Carl, did you pick these out? Is this the other part to my father's joke?"
"Come with me, Daniel. We don't want to miss our flight."
"What if I refuse? Father isn't going to just up and give our family business to anyone other than me."
"I'm afraid he will, Daniel. He already has papers drawn up for Victor. He is going to retire, one way or the other. Let's go, we have a plane to catch."
"So how long is this twisted game going to last, Carl?"
"Until your father is sure you're the best candidate."
"Fine. I'll play along. After all, Daniel Giordano can win anything." Daniel smiled and tucked his thumbs in his belt hoops to mimic the hillbillies he's seen on television.
"You're not Daniel Giordano. You're John Williams. You won't have your father's name to carry you."
Come on, Daniel, you can do it. It's just for a few days. As long as he didn't look down at his clothes, he felt confident. Perhaps the hidden camera is on … He couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation.
Walking outside with Carl, Daniel stopped and kept looking up and down the parking lot, then the street.
"Carl, where's the limo?"
"Right here." Carl pointed to an old red pickup truck.
"You're driving that?"
"Yes. I thought you should get used to it. Your new vehicle looks just like it. Get in, Daniel, and buckle up. I'm not sure about its safety."
When Daniel opened the truck door, the sounds of rusted metal grinding were loud. He did as he was told and buckled up for dear life. After four tries, Carl got the pickup started, and off they went to the airport.
The only airplane that Daniel had ever flown in was the family jet. Sitting behind a large man, who insisted on reclining, was making him feel as if his six-foot four inch frame was going to fold like an accordion. Carl had to stare out the window frequently so Daniel wouldn't see his smirk.
"Try to get some rest, Daniel. It'll make the flight go by faster."
"Carl, how the heck do I sleep with this screaming kid behind me kicking my seat? And by the way, you can stop enjoying my misery so much. I'll be damned if I'm going to let my father win this one."
"When we land, you are to be called John Williams by everyone other than me. I have a wallet prepared for you with your first week's allowance. Be careful how you spend it because you won't be getting any more money for another week."
"How much am I getting?"
"Three hundred and fifty dollars."
"That's it?!"
"That will be it until the following week. Your credit cards have been cancelled by your father, so don't try to use them. If you have any, hand them and any money you have over to me, Daniel."
Daniel reached behind him and pulled out his wallet. Carl smiled while he was handed four credit cards and a thick wad of large bills, which was kept in the penthouse."
"Thank you, Daniel."
"Oh my pleasure, Carl!" spat Daniel. The humor was ending and it was sinking into him that his father wasn't joking.
When the plane landed, Carl led Daniel out to the parking lot. Sure to his word, the old, rusted red pickup looked exactly like the one they left in New York, only this one had more dents and rust on it.
"Get in, Daniel, and buckle up."
"Yeah, you don't have to tell me that twice. Carl, what's that smell?"
"I believe it's the upholstery."
"Wow it's gross inside here! If I end up smelling like this, I'm going to be really ticked off. This is a death trap, Carl. Where are we going anyway?"
"Your new apartment."
"Great. I can't wait to see it. Is it a smelly death trap too?"
Carl ignored the question. "Your father has agreed to pay the rent for one month. After that, it's up to you."
"Oh, that's mighty nice of him. How long are you staying here?"
"One month."
"What a coincidence, Carl. Are we neighbors?"
After an hour of the truck stalling, back firing, and shimmying, they finally entered Prairie. Rolling hills, cattle, barns, and darkness wasn't impressing Daniel. Driving into downtown was just as appealing.
Carl pulled into a small gravel parking lot next to a rundown, one-story apartment building. It was small and reminded Daniel of the scuzzy pay-by-the-hour motels he saw on crime shows.
"Well, at least I know this is going to suck as much for you as it will for me!" Daniel laughed at the thought of Carl, in all his elegance, sleeping in this place.
A black sedan rolled up.
"Oh my God! You're going to have security on me to make sure I stay put?" He laughed loudly.
"No, Daniel. This is my transportation to the hotel."
Daniel sat up straight and began to go to a new level of irritation. Carl said he'd be accompanying me, and now he's leaving?
"Wait, is it a dive hotel?"
"Of course not. I'll be staying at a five star in Nashville. Good luck, Daniel. I'll be contacting you. Here's your wallet, and when you're ready just check in at the office."
"Carl! Wait a minute! Don't leave me here!"
Carl slid into the backseat of the sedan, and off it drove.
Daniel climbed out of the pickup and walked to the office at the end of the unkempt building. The dirty white brick made him want to wear gloves to touch anything. Multiple bugs swarmed around the single light above the door, and a horrible sinking feeling was taking over his core. Daniel knew one thing for sure; he would immediately climb in the shower and scrub himself as soon as he reached his room.
Chapter 2
"Hello," said Daniel in the most polite voice he could muster.
Beatrice was trying hard to think of a five letter word that matched the clue on her crossword puzzle, while she loudly snapped her gum. She saw the young man walk in, but he'd just have to wait a minute.
"Hello!" Daniel's voice was showing his irritation. He wasn't used to anyone not acknowledging his presence. "Can you hear me?" The older woman with the big, crooked blonde wig was already getting on his nerves. Her eyebrows, created with a dark pencil, gave her a constant expression of surprise. He smacked his hand down on the counter to add a little bit of noise, maybe snap the old bat out of her coma.
"Hold your britches." Beatrice was sixty-two and not about to be shoved around by some young cowpoke.
Her southern twang was doing nothing for Daniel's mood. If he could get away with it he would choke her.
"I'm here to find out which room I'm in, though I doubt I'll be here for very long."
"What's your name?"
"Dan-err John Williams."
"You ain't from these parts." Beatrice laughed.
"What room am I in?" The last thing that Daniel wanted was to have a conversation with this rude woman.
"Number four. Here's your key. Don't lose it or it's gonna cost ya ten bucks!" Beatrice handed the key over to Daniel. She watched this John Williams feller walk out the door with her drawn-on eyebrows raised. What I'd give to be forty years younger …
The stench hit Daniel instantly when he opened the door. The smell of mildew, stale smoke, and something fried made him want to hurl.
The dim light revealed a small kitchen table with two metal chairs, which were covered by yellow-flowered vinyl. The top of the small table was yellow, chipped, and had some burned places from someone's careless cigarette. But according to the smell of the place he'd have to add another thousand cigarettes to the cause of the problem. Daniel didn't smoke and the smell was overwhelming him. The vinyl on both cheap metal chairs had splits on the seats. He was sure that the visible foam wasn't always black. On the tabletop was a plastic pink flower arrangement and a collection of dead bugs.
The bedroom, if you want to call it that, was off the kitchen and in the same area. The bathroom was something Daniel definitely never planned on using. The dirt and rust on both was disgusting. Bugs had collected everywhere. There was no way he was going to touch this room. He sat his suitcase on a small twin bed with a heavily sagging mattress. There was a black plaid loveseat that had areas worn down to the stuffing. Burn holes covered the armrests, seat cushions, and carpet. He'd get out of this hellhole one way or another. I can't believe this! There was no television, no dishes or silverware. He spotted an old space heater in the corner, and no sign of an air conditioner. The cupboards and refrigerator were bare, except for an exploded soda can and more bugs.