Bentley Little - The Store

Bill started to respond, then shut his mouth as what King was saying sunk in.

The man was . . . offering him a job?

"Your own store." The voice was soft and seductive, the deep-set eyes piercing and hypnotizing in the pale-skinned face. "You pick the town. You run things the way you want. Juniper's available if you'd like it."

"I --"

The CEO held up a hand. "Don't say anything. Not yet. Don't make up your mind, don't say yes or no." His voice was smooth, mesmerizing. "This is a once in-a-lifetime opportunity. And I'm only going to offer it to you this one time.

You turn it down, and you're out of this building and on your way back to Arizona within the hour."

"Why?" Bill said.

King smiled. "I've always found that my worst enemies, my most bitter critics, those who put up the greatest fight against me, invariably turn out to be the best managers. They're thinkers, they're doers. They're not sheep. They can handle power and they know how to use it when it's given to them. You'd make a great manager."

"Why would I want to?"

King's voice dropped, and he closed his long fingers into a fist. "You can _own_ that town. You can decide what people eat, what they wear, what they listen to, what they watch. You can control everything from their brand of underwear to their type of toothpaste. You can experiment. You can mix and match." He leaned forward. "That's what The Store can give you. Power." He held up the papers. "What I read here in these faxes and messages is that you're not happy with the way things are; you want to change them. Well, I'm giving you the chance to do exactly that. You can rebuild that town in your own image, and it'll be exactly the community you always wanted."

"What I don't like is The Store. That's what I want to change."

"And here's your chance. You can do it from the inside." King dropped the papers on the table. "The dirty deeds are done. That's all over with. You don't have to be a part of that. What we have now is a level playing field. And what I'm offering you is one of the pieces." He grinned. "Now give me your response.

Now tell me if you'll accept the challenge."

"Okay."

He surprised even himself with the answer. He'd been planning to ask more questions before eventually saying no, but the word was out of his mouth before he had time to think about it, and he found that he did not want to take it back.

King was laughing and shaking his hand, clapping him on the back, congratulating him, and the board members around the table were smiling and nodding their support. He wasn't sure why he'd agreed, and wasn't being allowed to think about it, wasn't being given the time to examine his motives. He hated The Store and wanted it destroyed, and he saw the opportunity here to infiltrate the enemy, to do damage from within.

But . . .

But there was something to what King had said, and he was not entirely immune to it. The Store offered power. And power was neither good nor bad. It was a tool, only as good or bad as the person using it. He could do a lot of good as manager of the Juniper Store. He would be in a position to call the shots, he could force the town council to roll back the ordinances it had passed, use it to pass better, more beneficial laws.

"One thing," Bill said. "I want my daughters out of The Store. Now. Today.

Fire them, release them from their contracts, do whatever you have to do, but get them away."

King nodded. "Done."

"They're out? No strings?"

"If they want to be."

"What if they don't?"

The CEO shrugged. "I can't live their lives for them."

Shannon wanted out, he thought. She'd quit. Sam wouldn't, but Shannon would.

It was a start.

And when he was manager, he could fire Samantha.

"So what do I do? Where do I sign? What happens next?"

"Call your wife. Tell her good-bye. You have two weeks of training ahead of you. You won't be seeing her until you're done."

"Is there a phone I can use?"

"On the wall behind you."

He didn't want to talk in front of all these people, but he called Ginny anyway. She'd just arrived home, and he explained briefly what was happening, told her not to worry, told her he'd be back in two weeks.

"They kidnapped you!" she screamed. "They're forcing you to say this!"

"No," he said.

"Then what's happening? Why -- ?"

"I can't explain right now. I'll tell you all about it when I get back."

"They'll kill you!"

"It's nothing like that," he promised. "It's a good thing. But I can't talk now."

They went through this for several more minutes before he finally got her calmed down and convinced that it was on the level. They hung up, exchanging _I love you's_.

If he were her, he wouldn't believe it either, he thought. He had come to Dallas this morning ready to rip Newman King a new asshole, and now he was going to work for The Store? It didn't make any sense.

It _didn't_ make any sense.

So why was he doing it?

He still wasn't sure.

Two guards had entered the boardroom behind him, and he started as they drew even with him and grabbed his arms. "What the . . . ?" he said, looking around at them, then over at Newman King.

"It's training time," the CEO said. "They're here to escort you to our training facilities."

Bill squirmed out of the guards' grasp. "They don't have to treat me like I'm a prisoner."

"Quite right," King said. He made a motion with his hand, and the guards stepped back. "Sorry. Habit."

Bill took a deep breath. What had he gotten himself into here? And how was he going to get out of it?

He suddenly wished he had not taken King up on the offer to come to Dallas.

No. That wasn't true.

The CEO walked over to him. "We're happy you've decided to join The Store family," he said. "You will be a welcome and valuable asset to our team." He shook Bill's hand once again, and his grip was cold. "Please follow the guards.

They will take you to our training facilities." Grinning, he motioned toward the elevator door. "And have a nice day."

3

Shannon was called into Mr. Lamb's office, not during her break but almost immediately after starting her shift. Another employee, a new employee, came by to tell her the news and man the register for her.

There was something wrong.

She was ushered immediately into his office, and he looked up as she entered. There was no preamble, no small talk; he did not offer her a seat. Mr. Lamb stared at her from across the desk with barely disguised contempt and said simply, "You're fired. Turn in your uniform and your _Bible_."

She blinked, not sure she'd heard right. "Excuse me?"

"Clear the fuck out." The personnel manager stood. "You're through, you're fired, The Store no longer wants you, you stupid fat cow. Get off our property.

Now." She was stunned into silence.

"Now!"

She turned tail and ran. She didn't know what was happening or why, but she was smart enough not to question it. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, as Grandpa Fred always said. She quickly hurried away from the office, excited and angry at the same time. Excited that she was finally able to get out of here and away, to escape The Store's clutches, but angry at the way she was being treated. The anger was an instinctive reaction, though, an emotionally defensive response, and she knew enough not to act on it. She kept it controlled and sped downstairs to the locker room, where she took off her Store uniform while the camera videotaped her for the last time.

This was too good to be true, and she wanted to get off the premises before Mr. Lamb changed his mind.

She wondered, as she put on her street clothes, why it was that Mr. Lamb could fire her but Sam could not, then decided that Sam had probably arranged this, had probably figured out a way to get her out.