Chapter 19

About a half-an-hour later, I was desperately waiting for my father to arrive. He was no doubt stuck in traffic. I was also getting a lecture from Rita Sanders for interrupting her employees’ work. She was a tall, thin woman, probably in her early thirties. She was close to my mother’s height. Her auburn hair was probably her most attractive quality, but she was certainly attractive in other places too. Still, her beauty was cold. She reminded me a bit of Janie’s mom. I wondered if Edgar Blanton had a type.

“I really don’t care who your father and uncle are. Sylvia should have never left you in here.”

I could see Phyllis wanting to say something, but literally biting her lip. I saw my sweet Monique with her eyes downward. Did I really just think that? I really needed to talk to J Squared.

“Isn’t Mrs. Schmidt your boss?”

The taller older woman just smirked at me. “In a matter of speaking. I mostly report to the General Manager as all of us do. I have his ear,” she said, with a smug smile.

And likely some other parts of his anatomy.

“Well, I can tell you that the management structure is going to change around here,” I grinned back.

For a moment Miss Sanders looked uneasy, then she gave me a haughty look. “What do you know, boy?”

“I’ve heard my father and uncle talking. They say that there are too many chiefs here and think that there are ways of saving money,” I grinned.

Then Rita Sanders seriously messed up with me. “How would you like to keep me in the know? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“What do you mean?”

“I see how taken you are with Monique’s charms. I’m her boss you know.”

“I find Monique delightful, but what are you getting at?”

“I can make it possible for you to spend some time with Monique ... or if you prefer, I could put in a good word with the other girls about your age that I supervise.”

I was mortified. Was Blanton abusing all of these girls with Rita Sander’s help?

I turned to Monique. “Did she pimp you out to Blanton?”

I saw a horrified look on Rita Sanders face, as she shook her head violently. “I was just talking about dates, honest! I’d never ... he’d never!”

Monique couldn’t meet my eyes. “She may have suspected that he was using me, but she was not involved.”

“No!” cried Rita. “He wouldn’t!”

“Miss Sanders, you may not have been involved, but I know for a fact that Blanton has been abusing young girls.”

“No ... he couldn’t! He loves me!” she cried piteously.

Another woman Blanton had misled. First Janie’s mother, now Rita Sanders. He was using his businesses to conduct elicit affairs and to engage in underage sexual contact. Apparently none of his conquests knew about the other.

“I saw him abusing one of my friends.”

Rita Sanders eyes grew wide. “You! You were the boy that attacked him!”

“No. I’m the boy who stopped him from abusing my friend and then hit him while defending myself.”

Rita shook her head. She started to cry. “He wouldn’t!” She collapsed and for the second time in about half-an-hour my arms were full of a sobbing woman.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost five PM. I looked at Phyllis. “Mrs. Manning?”

“It’s actually Miss Manning, but please call me Phyllis,” she smiled at me as I comforted her boss.

“Phyllis, why don’t you leave early? I’d appreciate it if you could tell the part-time staff they should take off too.”

“Thank you, Boss. I hate getting back this late, but we’re reconciling month end figures. Normally I’m out of here by 3:30 to pick up my daughter.”

“Well, thank you for your hard work and input. You were a big help,” I smiled.

She beamed at me, waved and left.

“You’re the boss?” asked a tearful Rita, her arms wrapped awkwardly around my neck.

“Yeah, I know that I’m just a kid but...”

“No, I believe it. You may be a kid on the outside, but you are all man.”

I realized that I had an erection pressed against Miss Sanders’s sexy body and I blushed, while Monique giggled.

When dad finally got here, it was 5:15. We met in the conference room. It was me, Dad, Uncle Steve, Miss Sanders, Monique, Aunt Sylvia, Mr. Whitaker and another salesman.

“Who are you?” asked Mr. Whitaker of my father.

“I’m John Matthews, Head Trustee and acting Corporate Counsel of The Pennsylvania Automotive Surety Corporation. And to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” grinned my father, teeth gleaming like the shark he could be.

“I’m Paul Whitaker, Vice President of Sales,” he said.

I could not keep a straight face. I tried, but I snorted.

“What’s the kid and the black girl doing here?” he complained.

“My son has a vested interest in this meeting. He has specified that Miss Jackson and Miss Sanders attend, even though they are not considered senior staff,” said my father.

“Well, as the senior company officer present, I don’t see any reason they should be here.”

“Mr. Whitaker, first off, PASCO owns Blanton Commercial Auto Parts, Inc ... That means that what you say is no longer true. Secondly, I have no record of your title change, Mr. Whitaker. Your personnel file states that you are ‘Sales Manager’ of this company.”

“I have an agreement from Edgar Blanton to promote me so I could take on some more supervisory responsibilities,” he said looking at Aunt Sylvia.

Dad simply shook his head and grinned. “Whatever your agreements with Mr. Blanton, we can find no record of any promotion, so you are simply the Sales Manager.”

Whitaker scowled. “That’s not for you to say. Regardless of who owns the company, Mr. Blanton is still the General Manager of this company.”

My dad smiled at me and nodded. “Not anymore,” I stated and narrowed my eyes. “Why do you think the locks were changed last night?”

“But...” started Whitaker.

“As my son said, Mr. Blanton was not retained. I’m naming Mrs. Sylvia Schmidt, acting General Manager of Blanton Commercial Automotive Parts, Inc.,” explained Dad.

“And Miss Shelby Brooks will temporarily move here from Johansson Automotive Garage to replace Sylvia as interim Office Manager,” smiled Uncle Steve. I guessed Uncle Steve had changed his mind about moving Miss Brooks to the auto body shop. She would be here instead.

“You can’t do that. Edgar...”

“Doesn’t run this company anymore,” I interrupted.

My father’s eyes narrowed. “In fact, I asked Tommy to try to figure out what has been going on here and he has some rather disturbing things to discuss.”

“Him ... he’s just a boy.”

I nodded at Monique. I could tell she was chomping at the bit to reveal my secret. “Who happens to be your boss!” she laughed in glee.

My dad and Uncle Steve laughed as Whitaker sputtered and his associate salesman just looked dumbfounded. Aunt Sylvia didn’t look surprised as I figure Uncle Steve had told her.

Dad took control. “Be that as it may, Tommy indeed owns this company and all of PASCO’s other companies and assets. So that does make him your boss,” he smirked.

“I don’t want to work for a kid!” spat Whitaker.”

“Fine. Go ahead and quit, Just be clear that we are investigating all of your accounts and paperwork,” I spat.

“What?”

“Tommy has found out some very lurid things happening here, and we have every reason to believe that you knew about them,” said my father.

Now we had him. I noticed the concerned look on the other salesman’s face. I figured the other man was involved too.

“So go ahead and resign. It will just save us from having to fire you for cause,” spat Aunt Sylvia. I could tell that my grandmother’s friend was relishing her new role as Whitaker’s boss. I could also tell she wished he would just go away.

“I’ll be talking to my lawyer,” he complained.

“And the police too, I bet,” muttered Uncle Steve.

“Let’s go,” said Whitaker to the other man and they departed.

“They’re making a beeline for their offices, I bet,” said Uncle Steve.

“Good thing we didn’t hand out keys yet. They won’t get in. I’ve positioned a couple men from Aurora Security in the Sales Department and locked Blanton’s private office here,” grinned my father.

We heard a commotion in the background and then silence, after the yelling stopped.

We then were told everything that Edgar Blanton, Paul Whitaker and Roger Thornbush (the other sales man, who happened to be Tyler’s uncle) had done to Rita and what Edgar Blanton had done to my poor Monique.

Eventually, things wound down. Aunt Sylvia was livid and promised a thorough investigation. Dad, through Granddad, had full use of Aurora Security’s White Collar Investigation Division to do a full audit and to keep an eye out for illegal activity not directly related to the business. Dad had a theory that linked some of Blanton’s illegal activities to his auto related businesses, not just his laundromat. From what Monique and Rita had told us, it supported Dad’s theory.

“We have to be careful here, Tommy,” said my dad. “If we find any hard proof that Blanton used these businesses illegally in any way, even indirectly, we need to report it to law enforcement. I have some news on the laundromat too. We can talk about it later.

At that point, we decided to break up the meeting.

Both Monique and Rita were emotionally down and exhausted. As they were at loose ends, we called Grandma and asked if we could have two more for dinner and of course she said yes. It was easy to add to because it turned out that Uncle Steve and Lars had hot dates over at my friend, Eva’s place (as they were still dating her mother and sister respectively).

I decided to go with my dad and Monique plastered herself to my side. Dad gave me a smug expression, but I did not mind a bit. Instead of riding shotgun as she was offered, Monique molded her body against mine. I had an erection and she must have noticed because she whispered, “You’re my hero. I’ll take care of that any time and in any way you want.”

“Oh, Boy!” I winced and she giggled.

“What’s wrong, Son?” my dad asked, probably understanding my predicament really well, but wanting to maximize my embarrassment.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Dad,” I shot back and Monique made things worse by giggling.