Black Buck(10)

“Well, my dad is dead and my mom wasn’t too happy about it. Still isn’t, really,” I said, taking a sip.

“Sorry about your dad. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s fine. He died when I was two. He was a handyman and, after years of saving up, finally had enough to start his own business. He bought a van, and on the same day he got it, he was speeding home when a bus slammed into the driver’s side.”

Rhett took deep breath. “‘If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.’”

“What’s that?”

“Romans 14:8. But I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough.”

“More for my mom, yeah. I didn’t really know him.”

“And do you have siblings?”

“No, it’s just me and my mom.” I saw a brief flicker in his eyes, like he saw something he couldn’t see before, an answer he was looking for.

“So you didn’t go to college because you didn’t want to leave your mom alone at home. And you work at Starbucks because it keeps you busy, especially since you’re the boss. But it doesn’t demand too much of you. So you’re still able to get out of the house and feel productive, but there’s a large part of you that can’t help but ask, ‘Is this really it?’”

The fuck? It felt like the guy jumped inside my head, looked around, took a shit, and left. If Brian thought I was capable of mind control, I wanted to see what he’d make of Rhett. I took a bite of my cold pancakes, shifting in my seat until I mustered up the courage to speak.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“But you still haven’t been tested, so you just tell everyone you’re ‘waiting for the right opportunity,’ right? So here it is. What if I told you that you could learn how to do what I do?”

Ah, we’ve finally arrived. Here is what this entire breakfast has been building up to.

“And what is it that you do, Rhett?”

“Deals, Darren. I do deals and I sell the one thing that everyone wants.”

“Which is?”

“A vision.”

“What kind of vision?”

“A vision for the future. I sell people on the opportunity to live their lives to the fullest, and I’ll tell you, people will pay an absolute fortune for that. But beyond that, what we do up there,” he said, pointing toward the upper floors of 3 Park Avenue, “is help people. We’re changing the world through what we do, making a positive impact, and having a blast while doing it.”

“So why do you need me?”

“I don’t need you, but I want you. What I saw yesterday was something I haven’t seen in years: raw talent, confidence, and the ability to make me think differently. You convinced me to buy what you were selling because my choice would benefit me, not you. Having you up there,” he said, nodding at 3 Park Avenue again, “would have a large impact on my organization and an even more life-changing impact on you.”

My heart was racing. My mouth went dry. I gulped down half a glass of water. “I don’t know, Rhett. What happened yesterday was just me getting caught up in the moment. I don’t think I’m the type of person who could sell whatever vision you’re talking about.”

He reached over and grabbed my shoulder. Hard. “Listen to me, Darren. You were meant for more than pushing caffeinated water. Do you want to sell that shit for the rest of your life, or do you want to come with me and change the world?”

While the prospect of changing the world sounded great, I still wasn’t sold. Like he said, I was comfy. I had Soraya, Ma, Mr. Rawlings, Jason, a whole brownstone floor to myself, a decent salary; and I wasn’t in need of anything I couldn’t afford. I felt like I was already making a difference for those who mattered most no matter what he thought. But I would’ve been lying if I said I wasn’t curious about why Rhett selected me, about what he actually wanted.

“I’m sorry, Rhett,” I said as he paid for our meal. “But I’m not the person you think I am.”

Once we got outside, he wrapped his muscular-but-not-beefy arm around me as a best friend would. The embrace was strange but comforting, especially when paired with his cologne, which was woodsy with hints of lavender, as if to say, I’m manly, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cry.

“You’re right, Darren. You’re not the person I think you are. You’re probably a lot better. But let’s do this. Just come up to the office and see what the vibe is. If you don’t like what you see, you can jump in the elevator and leave. I’ll go back to being the guy ordering coffee from you, and you’ll go back to being the guy who’s getting it for me. Sound fair?”

Reader: Ending a pitch with “Sound fair?” is a common sales tactic. Most people don’t want to be viewed as unfair or unreasonable, so they’re more likely to give in, especially when what someone is pitching does sound fair enough. Give it a try and let me know how it goes.



If I had known where that question would lead me, I might have thought twice about going up to the office. I might have shrugged his arm off my shoulder, and said, “Thanks, but no thanks,” returned to my soldiers, and put my black apron back on. I might have also just hopped on the subway, went to Bed-Stuy, and buried my face in Soraya’s chest, seeking refuge somewhere safe. But I didn’t.