“Now, hold on just a second.”
The room freezes.
Coleman shoots me the pointiest who-the-hell-are-you look I’ve ever been thrown. Chandler and his men turn, sizing me up like I just strutted into a lion’s den wearing meat-scented cologne.
“What?” Chandler says flatly.
I pluck the flyer from his hands and scan it. It only takes about three seconds to find what I’m looking for.
I flip it back around, tapping a finger at a line buried in the fine print. “You’re being cheated.”
Chandler blinks. “Excuse me?”
“This.” I slide my finger under the text. “See this part? After the first fifty boards of lumber you buy at a discount, K-Yard hikes up the price. By a lot. They charge extra after that. You’re getting lured in with a flashy deal, but the second you need more material, you’re paying more than you would here.”
Chandler snatches the flyer back, and the three men huddle over it, reading. The silence stretches as realization dawns.
Coleman’s gaze snaps to me, sharp and suspicious. I flash him a wink.
Chandler exhales hard. “Well, hell.”
“I told you last time that place wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” one of the other men mutters.
I take the opportunity and push forward. “Look, you know the quality of lumber here is better. It’s why you’re still buying from Coleman in the first place. That means in the long run, you’ll need less to get the job done. And if you place an order today, I’m sure Mr. Barrier will be willing to offer a small discount, plus a guarantee that your next lumber order will be in stock. Right?”
Coleman’s eyes widen slightly, his mouth parting like I just hit him over the head with a two-by-four.
Chandler turns to him expectantly. “A small discount?”
Coleman clears his throat and nods, recovering quickly. “Yes. A small one. And guaranteed stock when you return. Absolutely.”
Chandler rubs a hand down his stubbled jaw. “You got what I need today?”
Hilary pops her head out from behind the shelves again, a wide smirk on her lips. “Oh, we got it.”
“Then let’s do this.” Chandler claps Coleman on the back and motions for the others to follow.
For the next fifteen minutes, I browse the store while Coleman handles the transaction. But I don’t miss the way he keeps cutting glances at me, his expression unreadable.
It’s only when Chandler and his crew are heading out the door that Chandler looks back at Coleman and jerks his chin toward me.
“I don’t know who that new employee is,” he says, “but you need to keep him.”
As soon as the contractors are gone and the store’s empty, the store owner comes out from behind the counter, crosses his arms, and scowlsat me. “I’d like to know who this new employee is, too. Though I suppose I should thank you for saving those customers for me.”
I extend my hand. “My name’s Maddox. Pane Maddox.”
After all, my mother didn’t say that I had to keep my name a secret. She just told me that I’m a big nobody. That’s me—Pane Maddox, big nobody.
“What’s your angle, Maddox?” Coleman’s gaze sweeps up and down me, pausing at my dress shoes. “You don’t look to need a job.”
“No, I don’t need a job. I’d like to do some business with you.”
He snaps to attention at that. He’s practically got dollar signs in his eyes. Even his tone is softer. “What sort of business?”
“I’m fixing up a property here in town. This is the kind of project that, once it’s completed, will bring attention to Mystic Meadows. Contractors like the ones who just left, along with investors, will sit up and pay attention. They’ll want to build here. They’ll want to invest in the future. They will see this town in a way that it’s never been seen before. And the best part? They’re all going to need supplies. That’s where you come in.”
“I’m listening,” he says.
