Read A Firing Offense for Free Online

you paid for it. You’re only going to know whether you like the picture or not.”
    “Well…. ”
    “Plus the fact that we’re an authorized Hitachi service center for this area. In-home service. And for a small charge, which most customers recognize the value in, you can have a maintenance agreement with Nutty Nathan’s to extend that in-home service.”
    “I don’t think I’d be interested in that. Besides, if the set’s as good as you say it is, I won’t be needing any service.” The customer smiled smugly.
    “Oh, it’s a gamble, I know,” McGinnes said quickly. “And chances are pretty good you’ll never need the service. But you know what they’re charging now just to walk through your front door? Fifty bucks! Just to step in your house, before they even touch the set! I can give you the names of ten people who’ve called to thank me personally for suggesting a maintenance agreement. Anyway, I’m not trying to belabor the point. You
do
want the Hitachi, though, don’t you?” McGinnes was nodding his head rapidly, a trick he used to make the customer do the same.
    “Yes, I’m pretty sure I do.” Though McGinnes had closed, the customer’s fists were balled defensively in his pockets.
    “Where are you from?” McGinnes asked, and smiled.
    “From up around Lancaster, P-A.”
    “No kidding. I’m from the Allentown area.” The customer seemed to relax as he unhunched his shoulders. McGinnes, an army brat, was from many places, but Pennsylvania wasn’t one of them. “This city’s fine, but I tell you, there’s a lot to be said for my hometown. I miss the slower life, don’t you?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “Let’s just step up to the counter and get you written up.” They walked to the front of the store, McGinnes’ hand gently on the customer’s arm.
    The young woman who had walked in earlier carrying her books tapped me on the shoulder and I turned. She was half a foot shorter than me and had a brown speck in one of her very green eyes.
    “Hi,” she said cheerfully and smiled. Her front tooth was chipped, just a little. She had on short, black, buckled boots, black patterned stockings, and a jean skirt. Her white oxford was open four buttons down, revealing the beginnings of strong, smallish breasts.
    “Hi,” I said.
    “You working here now?”
    “Yeah. For a little while, anyway. My name’s Nick.”
    “I’m Lee. I work the register and sell add-ons up front. Can you take a sales call?”
    I looked around. Malone was still in the Sound Explosion and appeared to be chewing his customer’s ear off, literally. McGinnes was up front, writing the deal.
    “Where’s Louie?” I asked.
    “Out making a deposit.”
    “I thought he made his ‘deposit’ in the afternoon.”
    Lee chuckled. “This one’s monetary, not seminal.”
    “What line?”
    “Pick it up on two,” she said, jerking her thumb behind her towards the small appliance wall. “Over there.”
    I found the phone and punched in the extension. “How can I help you?”
    “To whom am I speaking?” said an effeminate voice, lowered purposely to affect masculinity.
    “Nick Stefanos.”
    “And your title?”
    “I’m in management,” I said emptily.
    “Well, then, maybe you can help me. I have a complaint.”
    “What can I do for you?”
    “My name is Evan Walters. Last summer your company ran a promotion where you gave away an ice bucket with any major purchase. I came in and purchased a VCR, which I’m very happy with, incidentally. The clerk explained at the time that they were out of ice buckets. Frankly, I was warned by friends beforehand that Nutty Nathan’s never lived up to their advertised promises, but I was willing to give you people a try.”
    “Who was your salesman, Mr. Walters?”
    “A Mr. McGinnes. He promised me he’d get me my ice bucket. At first when I called he repeatedly said the ice bucket was on its way. Then he stopped returning my calls altogether. I know it’s a small matter, but I