A couple of weeks had passed since I had reconnected with Ashley. It only took a few dates and the discovery that we were both single for things to pick up right where they had left off. I didn't really know what to tell her about what I did for work, so I left that part vague. She didn't ask too many questions, and I didn't volunteer too much information.
"So this is your place, huh?" she asked, as she looked around my modest one bedroom apartment. "It's nice."
"I think you said that same thing when you first came over to my place on West 4th Avenue."
"Yes, I believe you did, and that place was a dump."
"Oh yeah, I remember. It had the thick orange shag carpet," she laughed. "And remember the owner busting in at three in the morning?"
"Yeah, those were some crazy times."
"Yeah, I miss those times," she said, as our eyes locked for a moment.
There was a brief silence as we studied each other. It was the perfect moment for a kiss and we both felt it. I leaned in closer, and then my phone rang.
"Steve, what's up, man?"
"Hey, sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?"
"No, not at all, what's up?"
"What are you doing right now?"
"I'm with Ashley, we're just hanging out."
"Do you guys want to come car shopping with me?"
"You're buying a new car?"
"Yeah, I need something for the mountains out here."
"What's wrong with your Hummer?"
"I got rid of it; it was bad for the environment."
"And the Lexus?"
"I got rid of that too. I got rid of all my cars when I moved out here, I thought I told you."
"Alright, let me ask Ashley."
I put the phone down by my waist and covered the receiver.
"Hey, do you want to go car shopping with my friend, Steve?"
"Alright, we're in. Can you come pick us up?"
Steve was a little bit late, but I expected it. He picked us up in his parents' Mercedes S500. I remembered the last time I was in this car, I had had a good time. It was probably best to keep those details to myself.
We cruised down to the car dealership on Burrard Street. I really enjoyed watching Steve do his thing, he was a really good negotiator.
"Do you have the V10 in stock ... fully loaded?" Steve asked.
"Yes we do, right this way, sir."
We followed the peppy sales associate around the lot. There was no shortage of fine automobiles, but Steve knew exactly which one he wanted.
"Okay here it is," the man said, as he proudly presented the Range Rover Sport. I could tell he worked on commission; you could almost smell it on him.
"This is one of our most popular models, it has a supercharger in it and..."
"It's orange," Steve interrupted him.
"Well, it's a burnt orange - it's a very popular color right now."
Feeling his commission slipping away he quickly shifted gears on his pitch. "This is our last one in stock and I can give you a fantastic price."
"Sir, I appreciate it, but I can't drive an orange truck."
"Yes... well, it's burnt orange and like I said, it's a very hot color right now. You will notice more and more vehicles are painted in earth tones."
"You said something about a fantastic price?"
"Hey, Trevor," Ashley said, as she pulled me aside. "You need a car right, you should get this one," she said, pointing to a cherry red Ferrari 599 GTO.
"Yeah, I've already had that one, it hurt my back."
"Ha ha, very funny."
YOU ARE READING
The Art of the HustleMystery / Thriller
Self-made billionaire, Trevor Morrison, recounts his life from being a poor kid from a small town to creating one of the largest companies in the world, all before his 30th birthday. A true underdog tale is told in The Art of the Hustle. When Trev...