17. The First One’s the Hardest （Ryan）
Chapter seventeen
The First One’s the Hardest (Ryan)
T he surreal nature of our trip to my childhood home had such an impact on both of us that we didn’t really talk much on the way back.
We were like transfixed pilgrims coming home.
For me, it was the peace of it all. There was no voice inside my head anymore.
Doubt and shame no longer had their snide fingers digging into the flesh of my shoulders. I was free.
I had Melissa to thank for it. Mostly, we were just tired. The long drive, the emotional exertion, and then, later on at night, the sexual exertion, were enough to leave us drained of all energy. Several times I looked to my side and saw Melissa sleeping in the passenger seat.
We could have stayed there for longer, but this was not goodbye.
I had promised Sara to return on the weekend.
Sara had insisted that Melissa come along.
Melissa promised that she would. Then we thanked Martha for the amazing breakfast, Melissa asked her for her recipe for the Spanish omelet, and we started our journey back to the city.
We had Stacy to thank for our sudden departure from the Hellerman House.
She called at eleven, and it wasn’t even me that she called.
She called Melissa directly, telling her about this mysterious potential client, who had been really hush-hush about his identity.
He explicitly wanted to meet with the chief talent hunter.
“We can schedule the meeting later,” I suggested during the call, but Melissa was adamant. Later on, after she had told Stacy that we’d be there in the afternoon, she confided in me why this couldn’t wait.
“I have been at Blue Riff for some time now, and I need to make my mark. I haven’t gotten even one client yet,” she said. Even if she hadn’t said that to me, I could tell that she was really serious. Her game face was back on with a furrowed frown, pursed lips, and all.
“You know what they say, the first one’s the hardest,” I told her. If there had been more time, I would have told her other, more pertinent things. I would have liked to have more conversations while we were here.
There was no more time, and now we were in New York, the Range Rover cleaving through the packed traffic as I drove into Manhattan, eager to make it back in time. I had some unfinished business to take care of as well. Something that could not wait.
“Hey,” I said, gently ruffling her hair. “Hey, wake up. We’re here.”
“Oh, crap!” Melissa woke up with a start, staring in every direction as she sat up. “I dreamt that we were late and I’d missed the meeting.”
“Nothing like that,” I assured her. “We’re here and we’ve got time to spare. You want to change? Do you have clothes at the office?”
“A few, yes,” she said, getting out of the car. We walked to the parking lot elevator hand in hand.
This is why I loved this business. Whether it was the first client or the two hundredth, the thrill of closing someone was always the same.
I was sleep deprived, tired, and had gone through a rapid slideshow of emotions in the past day; but damn if I wasn’t excited for the client waiting us in the conference room.
More than for myself and for the company, I was excited for Melissa.
This could be her big break, and nothing would make me happier.
That part of me that had been previously locked behind a bolted door of unresolved emotions, she had helped to unlock, come to terms with, and come out on the other side a better man. Hell, even the breaths I was inhaling felt brand fucking new, thanks to her.
Being there with her right now as she dealt with her first potential client was the least I could do. I’d already promised myself that I wouldn’t hover or intervene; I’d let her run the show, call the shots, and bring it home in her own way.
I was sure that she could.
“I’ll see you in five!” Melissa said as she raced to her office.
She wasn’t kidding. It wasn’t even five minutes, and she was already back in the hallway, changed, face washed, hair done in a bun, and a mild shade of lipstick applied — all ready to go.
“Hey, you’ve got this, okay?” I said, lifting her chin up with my fingers.
“Are you sure? Because I have this gnawing feeling in my gut that’s telling me otherwise,” she whispered.
“Trust me, that feeling is good. It just means you’re ready,” I said, no stranger to that strange pulling sensation in my intestines before every meeting.
“I love you,” she said, looked around, and then suddenly gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
“I love you too, and you beat me to it again,” I said.
There was no more time. We were standing in front of the door of the conference room. I opened it, and it wasn’t until I’d closed it behind her and turned that I registered why she’d gasped.
My surprise and anticipation quickly turned into dismay and disappointment as I saw Colby X standing there. I had half a mind to go out and scold Stacy, but it was too late. We were already in the room.
“What…” Melissa began, but Colby X held up his hand, and not in a rude way, either. He did it in a please-let-me-explain way.
“Listen, y’all,” Colby said. “I understand that the last time I was here, I said the wrong things, and I acted in a way that’s quite unbecoming.
I acted like this gangster and whatnot, but I am not really one.
The public would ostracize me if they found out that all they saw was just a persona. But that’s not why I came here today.”
I frowned at his lawyer, the same one who had come with him the last time. He nodded slowly, letting me know that things weren’t going to take the turn I feared they would. Colby X hadn’t come to exact his revenge.
“Why did you come today?” Melissa asked. I wasn’t going to get in her way, so I let her do the talking. I’d talk only if needed, and not even then. If this was to succeed, Melissa had to do it by herself. That’s how she’d know it was real.
“Well, Ms. Frances. I…ugh, recently underwent sensitivity training, and I can assure you that I needed it. I am at the final step. I’m going back to apologize to everyone I ever did wrong.
You were the most recent person that I objectified, was rude to, and harassed.
I realize now that I was completely wrong.
And to you too, Mr. Hellerman. I was way out of order sitting on top of the table.
Please accept my apology,” Colby X said.
It was cognitive dissonance, seeing him apologize to us in such a humble and earnest way. The same Colby X who totted around guns in his videos, sang lyrics about fentanyl, lean, and weed, and had scantily clad women dancing in his explicit videos was now standing before us, looking remorseful.
“I don’t really want to be that person anymore.
I will not take away from the severity of my terrible actions by saying that I didn’t know better.
I did know better and should have acted better.
And this isn’t something I’m doing because I’m afraid to get canceled.
I don’t gotta worry about none of that. This is something I genuinely want to do,” Colby continued.
“Well, Colby, I will happily accept your apology, and I am happy that you’re taking the steps needed to rectify your mistakes. That’s maturity right there, and I appreciate it. I can tell that you’re sincere,” Melissa said, first looking at Colby, then smiling at me.
“And you too, Mr. Hellerman? We cool?” he asked.
“I mean, you apologized, both to me and to her, so, yeah, we cool,” I said. “But, Colby, if I am not mistaken, in your Vox interview, you said that you were a self-taught student of the history of America. That was like four months ago, right?”
“Aw, damn, you saw that? I was kinda put off the whole vid… it got just half a mil views,” Colby said, smiling awkwardly.
“Yeah, I saw it. I’m in the music business, man.
A bear doesn’t shit melodically in the woods without me knowing about it.
Of course, I saw your video. But that’s not my point.
I just wanted to see if you really know your history,” I said, taking a seat.
Seeing me sit, Melissa, Colby X, and his lawyer sat down around the table in turn.
“Aight, quiz me then,” he said, sitting up straight and crossing his arms. I had his attention. More importantly, I’d piqued his interest. He was right where I wanted him to be.
“Okay, your first question is about gangland Chicago. Do you know the name of the co-founder and boss of The Chicago Outfit, the man known also as Scarface?” I asked. There was a smile on my face, but it was for Melissa’s benefit. Not for Colby’s. It was so she’d know where I was headed.
“Yo, for real? That’s Al Capone, dog. Give me a tougher one, I ain’t even breaking a sweat,” Colby said, grinning at me.
“Do you know the name of the mob bosses of the Five Families in New York City?” I asked.
“Means you ain’t heard my last album, man. It was all about the OG gangbangers of NYC. Course I know who they are. It’s Tommy Lucchese, Vito Genovese, Joseph Colombo, Carlo Gambino, and Joe Bonanno, aint it?”
I had to admit, I was genuinely impressed by Colby’s knowledge. He was also right where I needed him to be.
“Good job, Colbes. Now, the final question. The winner takes all. I asked you a question about Chicago. You answered it correctly. New York. You aced it. Now how about Boston?” I asked, adjusting my crosshairs.
“That’s literally the easiest city ever. Everything started in Boston, man. Throw me a curveball, why don’t you? Make it easier for me. Worth my time,” Colby said, a little cockily.
“Who is the current boss of the Anguilo Crime Family in Boston?”
“That’s a trick question, isn’t it? The Anguilo Crime Family was the most feared outfit in Boston. Until a year ago when their boss, Victor Anguilo, was found guilty of murder and racketeering. He’s behind bars, serving multiple life sentences. Tsk. Easy breezy,” Colby said.