“Carl, we live here, in New York. Not Prairie, Tennessee.”
“I am to accompany you.”
“Carl, I’m not going. My father has lost his mind. There has to be some kind of hidden camera in here.”
“Then I shall go speak with him, Daniel. I’m sure he’ll be calling Victor.”
“Carl, this is a joke, right? I’m supposed to get all upset just to humor my father. I wish he’d get some hobbies. Some of his practical jokes are funny, but this one is a bit out there.”
“No, Daniel. There are no jokes. Our flight leaves in four hours.”
“Wait a minute. He’s actually going to get the jet fueled up to go fly me out to corn country?”
“No, not exactly…”
“Carl, tell me exactly. I’m not playing any more games!”
“We’re flying coach.” Carl stood to hurry out of Francesco’s study. The tall, elegant fifty-five-year-old butler fell out in laughter when he closed the door behind him. He passed Francesco in the hallway and they gave each other a high five.
Daniel sped off of the estate in his white Lamborghini Aventador. It was his third expensive sports car over a two month period. He may have been driving too fast, but the small accidents weren’t his fault. His father should just be happy that no one was injured. I can’t believe he’s pissed about a few cars! What the hell? His cell phone rang as he pulled into his secured parking spot at his penthouse.
“Daniel?”
“What is it, Carl?” growled Daniel. He was gripping his phone tightly.
“You are to leave all access to money behind. Don’t bother packing luggage. I have everything you’ll need. We are to leave soon, so feel free to eat a meal and get washed up. I’ll arrive in an hour.” Carl hung up.
Daniel threw his phone against the passenger door and yelled loudly. “Damn it!”
He didn’t have the stomach to eat anything. It was in knots. How could he do this to me? He thought of calling Marissa, the hot swimsuit model he had a date with this evening, but he figured that this entire mess would be cleaned up before then. Daniel climbed in the shower and let the hot water loosen his muscles. Suddenly it hit him. Neither his father, nor Carl for that matter, had ever let a joke go on for this long. I’ll play his little game. It’ll just take a week before the Great Francesco finds out how much he needs me. I’ll go to Tennessee and start up another business. Who’ll have the last laugh then?
Daniel spent the next thirty minutes pumping himself up for the biggest trial of his life. He wasn’t a failure. He got what he wanted, when he wanted it. He had the brains and the looks. Victor can bite me.
He looked at himself in the mirror with approval. Dark hair, dark brown eyes, olive complexion…Daniel smiled at the thoughts of heads turning in Prairie, Tennessee. His muscles made his expensive black suit fit just right. The material was hand-woven wool, soft to the touch and one of a kind.
There was a knock at the door.
Daniel slowly approached it. Anyone who came up to the penthouse had to be approved and announced. There had been no announcement. Who could possibly get past security? Carl.
“Here, Daniel. You’ll need to leave the suit at home. I brought you these to change into.”
Daniel opened up the big brown paper bag. His jaws clenched. “Carl, what the hell is this?”
“Your clothes.”
Taking the bag with him, Daniel went to his room and dumped the contents out on his bed. He laughed hard and loud.
“I’m not wearing these!” Daniel shouted, but no response came from Carl. He lifted the clothing up to his face, expecting to smell something foul. He decided to put them on, knowing that nothing would fit; after all, his clothes were custom made. But they did. Kill me now. Daniel stood in front of the full-length mirror again and cringed. The blue plaid flannel shirt and faded jeans were setting his insides on fire. Work boots? He is going too far! Daniel stormed out of the room and stood in front of Carl, fuming.
“Well, you definitely look different, Daniel. Those will do just fine. Come along.” Carl had to restrain himself.
“I have no say-so in this, do I?” Daniel said in a voice full of panic.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Carl, did you pick these out? Is this the other part to my father’s joke?”
“Come with me, Daniel. We don’t want to miss our flight.”
“What if I refuse? Father isn’t going to just up and give our family business to anyone other than me.”
“I’m afraid he will, Daniel. He already has papers drawn up for Victor. He is going to retire, one way or the other. Let’s go, we have a plane to catch.”
“So how long is this twisted game going to last, Carl?”
“Until your father is sure you’re the best candidate.”
“Fine. I’ll play along. After all, Daniel Giordano can win anything.” Daniel smiled and tucked his thumbs in his belt hoops to mimic the hillbillies he’s seen on television.
“You’re not Daniel Giordano. You’re John Williams. You won’t have your father’s name to carry you.”
Come on, Daniel, you can do it. It’s just for a few days. As long as he didn’t look down at his clothes, he felt confident. Perhaps the hidden camera is on… He couldn’t help but laugh at the whole situation.
Walking outside with Carl, Daniel stopped and kept looking up and down the parking lot, then the street.
“Carl, where’s the limo?”
“Right here.” Carl pointed to an old red pickup truck.
“You’re driving that?”
“Yes. I thought you should get used to it. Your new vehicle looks just like it. Get in, Daniel, and buckle up. I’m not sure about its safety.”
When Daniel opened the truck door, the sounds of rusted metal grinding were loud. He did as he was told and buckled up for dear life. After four tries, Carl got the pickup started, and off they went to the airport.
The only airplane that Daniel had ever flown in was the family jet. Sitting behind a large man, who insisted on reclining, was making him feel as if his six-foot four inch frame was going to fold like an accordion. Carl had to stare out the window frequently so Daniel wouldn’t see his smirk.
“Try to get some rest, Daniel. It’ll make the flight go by faster.”
“Carl, how the heck do I sleep with this screaming kid behind me kicking my seat? And by the way, you can stop enjoying my misery so much. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my father win this one.”