In Love With My Father’s Best Friend

A Deal With The Devil

Klarisse

I low-key felt like I had made a deal with the devil. Quinton had me right where he wanted me and there was nothing I could do about it.

To top it all up, Laura was my babysitter for the day. Quinton had her following me around the refinery with her breathing down my neck, watching my every move.

Luck was on my side when she received a call and her attention automatically shifted to the person on the other end who kept her pretty much occupied.

Before the call ended and she returned to being the unpaid detective Quinton had assigned her to be. I blended with the cart of grapes moving the opposite direction, far from her.

My destination was unexpected, but interesting. It was the production room filled with men and women alike, pouring bowls and bowls of grapes inside what I assumed was the grinding machine.

“This place is a restricted area. You shouldn't be in here.” A guy, very young and a little above my age grade said, staring at the door I had just walked in from for me to leave.

“Actually I work for Mr. Quinton Sandman. And I have a few questions for you to answer.” I replied, watching as his mouth opened and closed simultaneously in a slow motion.

“I…I'm not the boss. He is in the best position to answer your questions.” He stuttered out, staring above my head at a middle aged man who wore a hostile face that caused my insides to squirm in an unpleasant way.

“You must be the intern Laura's been looking for everywhere. Come, let me take you to her.” He said, waving a hand at me like I was a child who needed direction.

“Are you the boss?” I asked , refusing to move an inch from where I stood.

The man turned to stare at me, sizing me up like I was some piece of cake that would cause him a stomach upset if eaten.

“Who's asking?” He snapped at me, catching me off guard with his curt response.

“The wines produced are stale and I would like to see the grapes being used to make them.” I responded to his uptight behaviour with professionality, ignoring his attempt to intimate me.

“Sorry kid, but you can't enter the farm without authorization from the higher ups.” He said, staring at the guy behind me who quickly scoured away back to work.

“I have authorization from Mr. Quinton and his approval to do whatever needs to be done to find out what has the wines coming from this refinery tasting bad. Here is my ID and his signature.” I revealed, showing him the company's card with my picture hung on my neck and Quinton's signature on the file I held loosely in my hand.

Once the man was done staring at my photograph and the contents of the envelope, he had no other choice but to show me what I wanted to see.

The farm was huge, several acres of land filled with freshly planted grapes. Nothing seemed out of place and the farmers who worked diligently went about their business cultivating grapes.

After searching through a few acres, and finding nothing questionable, I was ready to leave when I finally noticed one of the farmers signaling at me to come which I did, curious to know why he wanted to have a word with me.

“The manure is bad, that is why the grapes are stale. You need to inform Quinton that his guy is stealing from him.” The elderly man revealed, staring at the tight faced man who had brought me here.

“Thank you… I really appreciate you being honest with me.” I said, grateful that my coming here today wasn't a waste.

The moment I arrived at the company, I went straight to Quinton to inform him of my findings and he was livid, which was so unlike him who usually was calm and composed.

“Send for Mane. Tell him I want to see him in my office now.” He barked at Laura on the phone and then snapped the poor device who suffered the brunt of his aggression back on the receiver.

“That will be all Miss. Klarisse. You should head home now. It's late.” He said, barely paying attention to me.

“It's late…the train is not running at this time.” I informed him, staring at the wall clock that struck eleven on the dot.

Just then Mane walked in. When he saw me, his face turned pale as though realizing the reason for him being summoned.

“Quinton, if you would give me room to explain.” He began only to be cut off with Quinton banging his hand loudly on the table.

“Don't you dare utter another word from those lying lips of yours.” Quinton sneered, pointing accusing fingers at him.

“You're fired. Thank your stars that we have a history and we were once friends. If not, you would be serving time in jail for stealing from me.”

Mane without another word stepped out of the office, but before he left he sent me a brief stare that instantly caused my skin to crawl and my breath to catch in my throat as though he was up to no good.

Quinton drove me home. All through the ride he was silent, deep in thoughts that I didn't dare ask him what they were about with his sour mood which I didn't want to rub off on me.

“About today…thank you for saving the company from bankruptcy.” He said while I unbuckled my seat belt ready to exit the car.

“Actually…” I began, my mind derailing back to the man who made it possible for me to find out about the contaminated manure.

“I had some help from an elderly man who works at the farm. He called you Quinton like you too know each other.”

Quinton's eyes popped wide open as though my words had knocked the air out of his lungs. I waited for him to explain the reason for his reaction. Instead he clicked the door wide open for me to leave before zooming to his side of the estate.

The following week, I didn't come to work. With exams around the corner and college application ongoing. I was pretty much occupied.

“Quinton about that recommendation letter I was promised. Can I get it now?” I asked, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge as I prepared to leave for school.

“Come to the office after school. I'll have one printed out for you.” He responded, staring at his phone screen while sipping from his almost empty cup of coffee.

“And about the farmer you spoke of. We should stop by at the refinery so I can thank him personally.” He added, finally giving me his full attention.

I was about to make out a response when the sound of the bus now parked outside of the house had me racing out the door so I wouldn't miss it.

After school as planned, I went straight to Sandman Wine &Cognac. There I was handed the recommendation letter.

Laura did not allow me to enter the office to see Quinton. According to her, he was on a business call. But I knew that was bull. Quinton never turned me away, business call or not.

Since there was nothing I could do, I waited outside at the reception area until I was called in.

An hour later, Quinton came out. His face was glum and his eyes sunken in. A sign he needed bed rest for at least a week.

“Cancel the farm visitation, we're not going.” He said, walking back to his office without explaining to me further the reason for his cancellation.

“I'm sure the farmer will really be glad to see you appreciate him in person. I can go if you don't want to.” I offered, not wanting to cancel on our plans last minute.

Quinton with his back still turned on me, facing the door heaved loudly, his shoulder slipping to the side as he broke the news that literally knocked the air out of my lungs.

“He's dead.”