Five dollars per box.
Vanessa objected.
“Too much.”
I said.
“Then negotiate with their union.”
Noah asked.
“What union?”
Emma said.
“We should make one.”
I regretted everything.
They called themselves Pie Workers Local Seven.
I raised wages to six dollars.
Extortion.
Retirement was going well.
Then something happened I did not expect.
One afternoon, a black SUV pulled into my driveway.
A man stepped out.
Gray suit.
Silver hair.
Vanessa was outside across the street.
She stopped watering flowers.
The man came to my porch.
“Walter.”
“Sam.”
Samuel Porter.
CEO of Hayes Regional Markets.
Technically, my employee.
Practically, the man who had run the company for five years.
We hugged.
He came inside.
We discussed quarterly numbers.
Expansion.
A warehouse lease.
Succession planning.
When he left, Vanessa was still outside.
She walked over.
“Who was that?”
“Sam Porter.”
Her face changed.
“The grocery CEO?”
“Yes.”
She had apparently Googled.
