richard hayden x reader (tommy boy)

ch 8

your trio strolled into brady automotive, feeling tense.

"c'mon, this is it! i can feel it!" tommy exclaimed. richard looked around for the front desk, and you rubbed your eyes in frustration.

"tommy, don't get your hopes up. at all. for all we know, this could just be another monumental disaster," you sighed. richard nodded in agreement with your statement, walking up to a woman behind the counter.

"hi, we're here for mr. brady. do you know where his office is?" richard explained. you were taken aback by his polite tone.

the woman smiled. "it's just down the hall, sir, last door on the left."

"thank you!" the three of you chimed, making your way to the office. you and richard sped ahead while tommy jogged to catch up.

"hey, what's your guys' hurry?" he panted. you rolled your eyes.

"you know that thing in the backseat?" richard began. "it's not exactly an air freshener. it's a rotting, dead deer carcass, and we gotta take care of it quick."

your nose wrinkled at the thought. "yeah, and we'll start to smell like shit the longer we're around it."

you now stood in front of the door to mr. brady's office. richard stopped the two of you, looking at tommy with a stern expression.

"now, this is one of our oldest customers— we should be in and out."

"well, now, this sale's thing isn't so easy! you can't just go in and out! you gotta... finesse 'em a little bit!" tommy interjected.

you scoffed. richard retorted, "hey, by finesse do you mean sputtering out sentence fragments and lighting things on fire?"

tommy sighed, losing the gust of confidence he seemed to have gained. "no, but... it's nice to see you, mr. insult. say, have you seen richard anywhere? if you have, can you tell ask him... i mean, since he's so good... if he might wanna try selling?"

richard bristled at the challenge, straightening his jacket. "oh yeah? watch and learn."

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"of course i understand what 'no' means. but if i took no for an answer, i'd probably wind up on a street corner selling spicy hot dogs and wearing a funny hat," richard replied to mr. brady's refusal to take his offer with a smug look on his face. you snorted at his comparison. "it makes sense, doesn't it?" richard continued, pushing the manual on the brake pads towards the man.

mr. brady cleared his throat to speak up again. "look, i've been doing business with callahan since i hung up my shingle... but i don't like you. probably never will. you're a smug, unhappy little man, and you treat people like they were idiots."

your eyes widened suddenly, turning to richard at the man's harsh words. his gaze fell as he practically deflated, pulling the brake pad manual back into his lap. you winced sympathetically, trying to catch his gaze for a moment.

"um, hey, he's just trying to get his point across. you see, if you'd just observe what's in the manual here, maybe you'd understand what we're trying to say, mister."

you offered him a small smile, taking the manual from richard and extending it to mr. brady. he shook his head, glaring at you.

"look, girl, i don't know exactly who you think you are, but you two are no different. you have that condescending tone whenever you speak, like you can hardly bear to look down at the rest of us from way up there on your high horse."

you pulled back the manual quickly, looking away and playing with your hair awkwardly as if none of that had happened.

"not my fault your balls never dropped," you hissed under your breath. luckily, the man in front of you didn't seem to hear, although richard chuckled quietly at your words.