Spices (FIRST DRAFT) ~ An Alejandro and Alfred Story

𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷

“Well... um, as you know, I own a car company, Noeia, and I was recently transferred over to Louisiana to sell my product there, so I’m used to traveling around. And with the help of your warehouse, we can store more car parts, producing more vehicles, and every family in America will come to possess a Noeia within the next few years. If you take a look at these charts, you will see that…” As I continued on about my company, I felt more relaxed. I forgot that I’ve been doing this my whole life, and it is what I specialise in. As long as I put in my best effort, the rest is the decision of the interviewers, not me.

The two men nod silently as I go on, passing my paperwork back and forth between each other, making eye contact, perhaps communicating through telepathy.

I present to them Alejandro’s ideas, what to add to the car, and what has been in demand recently. I try to read their eyes, guess if I’m doing great or not, but they’re impossible to understand.

“In conclusion, I believe that you'd be making a huge mistake overlooking this offer. I can guarantee progress, success, and a future. And the future… is Noeia.” I lean back in my seat, slowly exhaling through my nose.

Please, please, please, please, please, please.

Ernie is the first to clear his throat. He looks up at me, and a large smile spreads across his face. “Alfred, this has been a wonderful interview. You seem like a confident man with great ambitions, and you’re already heading up. We accept your offer.”

I let out the breath I’ve been holding in the entire time, breaking into laughter. I was so thankful.

The two stand up, and as they shake my hand, I shower them with ‘thank you's.

Carl even adds, “to be honest, you might be overqualified for us. Our warehouse isn’t even that big, and you sound like you need hundreds of miles worth of cars. We’re worried we can’t fulfill our part of the agreement.”

I ponder on that statement, but before my mind goes far, Ernie chirps in. “Hey! Why don’t we talk to Frank? I’m sure he can help us.”

“Frank?” repeats Carl.

“Yeah.” he turns to me. “At the edge of Jefferson City there’s a factory. Frank Jamesman runs it, looking for work. He’s been afraid the factory might shut down because they ain’t got anything to do ‘round there. Now they got you, my boy!”

I just nod, the smile on my face unable to muster any words.

Ernie suggests meeting up at the factory location tomorrow at noon and writes down the address on a napkin on the table. We shake hands once more outside the cafe and go our separate ways.

In the taxi back to the hotel, I wiped my face with my hand numerous times. My smile simply wouldn’t go away. Finally, things are looking up. The tension in my shoulders slowly melts away.

On day four, I rent a car, feeling more independent if I drive myself and more efficient. I drove along a dirt road for a while, and random bushes lined up every few miles. Eventually, I see a large grey building along with other buildings, a huge garage, trucks, and other stuff I don’t understand in the distance.

I park my car near the gate behind the Jamesman factory. Ernie and Carl are already there, and when I extend my hand to shake theirs, Ernie hugs me instead. I was caught off guard, and Ernie told me that this was the start of something great.

Inside is mostly empty except for a few small machines and contraptions I stare at, trying to figure them out. Some workers pass by, but we head upstairs to what I assume is Frank’s office. Before we head inside, Ernie tells me to “just act cute” and that they will do the talking.