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HUNTER
I should resign right now.When I started working here at Legendary a week ago, I was concerned that it might take me a month or two to discover the hidden weaknesses every business possesses. I knew coming in that Legendary was being mismanaged but the extent of what I’ve discovered is blowing my mind.
I’ve collected more information in a week than I would expect to find in three months in a normal business. However, what I’m hearing right now takes the cake.
I’m up on a twenty-foot ladder dusting off the chandelier and changing light bulbs in the main ballroom. This is just one of the dozens of last-minute tasks Junior has ordered us to perform before the wedding reception tomorrow night. I really wish I was in the room when Catherine read him the riot act yesterday because I’ve never seen him this worried.
For the last ten minutes a middle-aged man has been cussing and yelling at Frankie. They are standing just inside the doorway of the ballroom, their voices booming over the noise in the kitchen that’s preparing for two events this evening.
“I only booked my daughter’s twenty first party here out of respect for your father.” The man’s strained voice echoes off the walls and I glance down expecting a punch to follow.
“And that’s why we rolled out the red carpet for Daphne,” Frankie counters.
“Daisy. How do you not know that? The party was only two weeks ago? I bought a god damn twenty-foot sign with her name on it.”
I bite away my snicker. Frankie has never taken the Dale Carnegie lesson covered in day one of hospitality training - A person's name to that person, is the sweetest, most important sound in any language.
“Of course, Daisy,” he counters unconvincing. “That’s why I personally handled the video recording.”
The lies are coming fast and furious now. I came across the paperwork where the videographer that the hall contracts with quit three weeks ago due to payment issues. Frankie has been emailing every videographer in a twenty-five-mile radius with no success. It’s a small community and word spreads quickly. Last week he recruited a kid from the community college and paid him forty bucks and access to the open bar.
Even from up on the ladder I can see the restraint the man is exhibiting with the mention of the video. Frankie can’t be that clueless. “I just got the first edits of the video and thank god I watched it before Daisy.” The man swipes on his phone and pounds on a few keys before shoving the phone in Frankie’s face.
I pause, placing a dead bulb into the box. I hear music and laughter from the phone. “See, your daughter is having a good time. Maybe I’ll use a clip of this on the website.”
“Keep watching,” the man threatens.
I don’t recognize the song but there’s no mistaking Frankie’s voice. I can imagine he put the camera on a tripod and forgot he was recording. “Damn, Daisy. That dress girl. Shake it like daddy likes it.” The lecherous tone is unmistakable and I’m shocked that the man continues to hold the phone steady. After a few seconds of music, Frankie’s voice returns. “Yeah. I’ll hit that.”
The man lowers the phone and Frankie takes a large step away from him as if expecting a punch to follow.
“I’m not going to hit you, you’re not worth the ice I’d have to soak my knuckles in afterwards. I’ve found a better way to hurt you.”
“What are you saying?” Frankie surprises me as indignation fills his voice.
“I’m friends with the Morgans. Their daughter Daphne’s birthday party is tonight.”
Frankie actually has the nerve to laugh. “I knew there was a Daphne.”
“You. Are. An. Ass.” The man punctuates each word, my sentiments exactly. “I showed the video to the Morgans and they’re canceling the party here tonight.”
“They can’t do that. We have a contract.” I hear the stress in Frankie’s voice. I’ve seen the books. He’s counting on the paid balance to squeeze another week from the vendors who are still working with him. “The kitchen is already prepping the food.”
“I wish you would go after them for breach of contract. Mr. Morgan is an attorney and I’ve already given them a copy of this video. I’m sure it’ll go over well with a judge.” Frankie is finally rendered speechless. The man begins to stride toward the door but not before flinging one final zinger. “My daughter has lots of friends Frankie. Your days of hosting parties for young girls is over. Your days are numbered.”
The man disappears out the doorway leaving Frankie standing dumbfounded and muttering to himself - a combination he’s mastered. I pull a bulb from the box and twist it into the empty socket. Only now does Frankie acknowledge my presence. I ignore him and adjust the white ear buds hanging in my ear. I bop my head to non-existent streaming music, the ear buds just another prop in my cover.
Out the corner of my eye I catch Frankie staring at me. I remove one ear bud and stare down at him. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” I’m not much of an actor but for someone as self-centered as Frankie I don’t need to be.
He waves a hand in my direction. “Nothing. Never mind.” He walks toward the opposite door, the one used by the staff - another canceled event, another night of lost revenue, his hole growing deeper, his desperation growing.
It’s almost time for me to move in for the kill.
