Page 3 of Poolside

Allison was one of his most experienced managers. It was why he’d put her at the largest branch in his area, located in the West Ashley neighborhood of Charleston. As an area manager with Venture Car Rentals, it was Tommy’s job to oversee and manage eight rental car branches. The West Ashley location had a fleet of over three hundred vehicles, and was ideally located close enough to downtown that it got enough tourists to balance out all of the replacement rentals from the local auto body shops.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tommy said, shaking out his legs that already burned from his Crossfit workout that morning. “Were you able to track down the big SUVs you need for this afternoon?”

“Yeah, we worked with Avondale and got them over yesterday after closing.”

Tommy smiled.She was good. Helovedit when his team lived up to his expectations.

“Alright, well, text me if you guys need anything. I’ll be out in the field later and can swing by.”

“Thanks, boss.”

Tommy tossed his phone down at his bare desk in the central admin building where he spent less time than he should. He’d take days spent in the field checking on the offices he managed over sitting at a desk all day. Being an area manager involved producing a long list of reports and too many emails, most of which he wrote from his couch late at night. He didn’t mind, really. If that was the price of success, it was a price he was willing to pay.

“Littleton.”

Tommy glanced behind him, finding his fellow area manager and work nemesis Deborah Siegenthaler already sitting rigidly in her chair. Her eyes were fixed on her computer screen as her fingers typed furiously.

“Deb,” he said, infusing his voice with as much happiness as he could. He knew it pissed her off. “How are your numbers looking this month?”

The woman huffed. “Better than yours.”

Tommy laughed as he powered on his desktop. “You know that Avondale has been crushing the customer service numbers recently. One guy even wrote a letter to corporate last week, he was so impressed.”

“They’re looking for consistency, Littleton.” Deb flicked a piece of light brown hair back from where it had escaped from her angular bob.

“Would it kill you to call me Tommy?”

At that she turned around, leveling him a withering glare from behind her black-framed glasses. “Yes. I think it would.”

“Morning, my people!” A loud voice boomed down the hallway, and both Tommy and Deb immediately jumped to attention. “What’s the good news?”

Rick Davenport, the general manager of Venture Car Rental, was a huge man—both in stature and in personality. He’d been an offensive tackle in college, and still had the body of someone who could seriously mess you up if you crossed him. His skin was tanned from hours spent on the golf course, and his blonde hair was perfectly combed back from his face in that style that only men like him managed to make suave. Guys who made an obscene amount of money, like Rick and Keaton. Not Tommy.

He wore his customary navy suit with a green tie, and his white shirt was exactly the same hue as his sparkling white smile.

Damn. Tommy should get his teeth whitened. That was a thing, right?

Tommy jumped in, determined to get a word in before Deb. “Sales are up 4% this week in Area 4,” he said loudly. “And we’ve got two assistant manager interviews over at the James Island branch this afternoon.”

Rick clapped his beefy hands together and rubbed his palms like he was warming them up by a fire. “Right-o, Littleton! That’s what we like to hear.” He reached over and clapped Deb’s shoulder. “What about Area 2, Debby?”

Tommy caught the way her expression tightened for just a second before she responded. “All good, sir. Sitting tight with 96% of the fleet on the road, and customer satisfaction numbers are on par with industry average.”

Tommy bit back his grin. Deb was good at the business of it all, but Tommy wasreallyfucking good at customer service, and he trained his team to be the best.

“Love to hear it!” Rick exclaimed, like he was speaking to them across a crowded gym rather than from five feet away. “Have you both submitted your time off requests for the Fourth of July?”

Deb’s smile was stiff. “Yes.”

“Yessir,” Tommy replied, even as his heart rate picked up. “Got it cleared by HR on Monday.”

“Haven’t fixed things with the wife, have ya?” Rick let out a wide-mouthed laugh, and Tommy smelled a wave of mint as his boss leaned toward him and slapped him on the back. “Just jokes, my man. All the wives come out for the Fourth, so you’ve got, what, three months to get things all fixed up?”

Ouch.

Tommy wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but he was trying as hard as he could to look amused. “Ha,” he managed to choke out. “Well, we signed the divorce papers six months ago. It’s a done deal.”

“Shame. Vows just aren’t what they used to be.”

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