We Opened the Store Together,They Kept the Profits

1: 1

Laid off in middle age, I put every cent I had into opening a place with the friend I'd grown up with.

We'd agreed on it. Fifty-fifty.

Then at year's end the place cleared eight hundred grand, and my oldest friend handed me eight thousand.

I looked at the money on the table and didn't touch it.

Saul Gilbert had a cigarette in one hand, and the other slid brazenly around my wife's waist.

"What, not enough?"

"I found the storefront. I ran the renovation. I bought the ingredients. I handled all the paperwork."

"You chopped vegetables and worked a pan. Eight grand's more than fair."

Sarah Pruitt leaned into his chest, smiling.

"Earl, Saul's right."

"The startup money was yours, sure, but running this barbecue place was all Saul."

"Profit reflects ability. Without Saul there'd be no eight hundred grand. Eight thousand is already more than generous."

As she spoke, Sarah tossed a set of divorce papers down in front of me.

"Since we're being honest, go ahead and sign this too."

"I'm not spending the rest of my life with a good-for-nothing who reeks of grease and smoke!"

She didn't bother to hide the disgust in her eyes.

Looking at the cash and the divorce papers in front of me, I couldn't help a low laugh.

I never thought that after emptying myself out for this, all I'd get back was a double stab in the back, from my best friend and my wife.

I looked at Saul.

"We agreed at the start. Fifty-fifty."

This past year.

I got up at four every morning to prep. At ten at night I was still poring over recipes.

I'd poured nearly all my time and energy into that kitchen.

The moment the profit was tallied, I thought all of it had been worth it.

I'd let myself believe, with my whole heart,

that this time my wife and daughter could finally have a good New Year.

And out of eight hundred grand in profit, Saul gave me one percent.

Even the capital I'd put in he took as if it were simply his.

Saul lounged back against the couch and blew out a lazy smoke ring.

"Earl, don't be too greedy."

"If I hadn't taken you in back then, you'd still be hauling bricks on some construction site, wouldn't you?"

"Eight grand is what I'm giving you out of years of brotherhood."

"Brotherhood?"

Rage twisted into a laugh.

"What kind of brother schemes against his own buddy?"

"And what kind of brother steals his own buddy's wife?"

Saul's face darkened. He snatched up the cash off the table and flung it in my face, the way you'd wave off a beggar.

"Earl Fox, don't push your luck!"

"Sarah chose to be with me. Blame your own uselessness for that."

"Eight grand. That's it. Take it or leave it!"

The sharp edge of a bill sliced my cheek and left a line of blood.

Red bills scattered everywhere, drifting down across the floor.

Sarah watched me coldly.

"Earl, if I were you, I'd take the money and get out fast."

"You really tick Saul off, and you might lose even that eight grand."

I looked at this woman I'd once loved down to my bones.

The same familiar face, and yet in that moment she felt frighteningly like a stranger.

Slowly I bent down and picked the bills up off the floor, one by one.

"Fine, I'll divorce you. But I get custody of our daughter."

I forced down everything churning inside me.

When I looked up again, there wasn't a trace of the old feeling left in my eyes.

Sarah froze, then burst out laughing, as if she'd heard the biggest joke in the world.

"Earl, are you kidding me?"

"You can barely feed yourself. What are you going to raise a daughter on?"

I kept my face calm and looked at her.

"That's my problem. No need for Ms. Pruitt to trouble herself over it."

Maybe it was those two words, "Ms. Pruitt," that hit some raw, fragile nerve in Sarah.

The smile snapped off her face, and she glared at me, vicious.

"And if I say no?"

"Then I don't sign."

Sarah gritted her teeth.

"You wouldn't dare."

The corner of my mouth lifted.

"We can find out. See whether I dare or not."

"I'd like to know too. If this goes to court, whose side does the judge take?"

"Are you insane? You'd actually take this to court?"

Sarah stared at me, unable to believe it.

"Maybe."

I said, "But if I've gone insane, the two of you drove me there."

Sarah and Saul exchanged a glance, and both their faces turned ugly.

"What makes you think I'll agree to that?"

Sarah's voice came out forced through clenched teeth.

I smiled.

"You tell me. I don't imagine either of you wants me spreading your little affair around for everyone to hear about, do you?"

2: 2

Sarah went quiet for a long time.

Long enough that I thought she'd never speak again.

Then she lifted her head and looked at me, her eyes sharp as knives.

"Fine. You want custody of our daughter? Take her."

"Works out. I don't want some deadweight in my way anyway. I'd love to see how you plan to feed her."

Sarah paused, glancing at the money in my hand, the sneer on her face open and unhidden.

"But don't say I didn't warn you. You took the money, so from here on we're square. Completely."

"After this, you'd better keep your distance. I don't want any of your broke-loser stink rubbing off on me."

I nodded, cold.

"Don't worry. Even if I'm out begging one day, I won't beg at your door."

"Because... I... think... you're filthy!"

I pressed my pen hard into the divorce papers and signed my name.

When I finished, I dropped the pen, turned, and walked out.

Sarah blew up like a cat with its tail stepped on.

"Earl Fox, who do you think you're fooling?"

"You're one step from starving in the street, and you're still up here playing high and mighty?"

"Joy got saddled with a father like you. That's eight lifetimes of rotten luck!"

"I'll be waiting for the day you're broke and crawling on the ground, begging me like a dog."

I didn't turn around. My steps didn't slow for a second.

Even from a distance, I could still faintly hear Sarah's hysterical cursing behind me.

Curse away.

Curse all you want.

There'd come a day when they'd be the ones crying.

Saul and Sarah thought that now the barbecue joint had made its name, they didn't need me anymore, so they kicked me out.

What they didn't know.

The reason that place did so well.

It was never Saul's so-called management.

It was all riding on the signature secret sauce I'd worked myself half to death to perfect.

I'd love to see it.

Once I was gone, what exactly was going to keep the customers coming?

I went back and packed my things. It didn't take long.

There wasn't really much to pack.

Aside from my daughter's things, all I had were a few changes of clothes.

Everything together didn't even fill one suitcase.

I moved into a rundown low-income neighborhood with my daughter.

I felt the money in my pocket.

Renting meant one month's deposit and three months up front.

After the forty-eight hundred I'd just handed over for the place.

The thirty-two hundred left was everything I had to my name now.

And all the startup money I had.

I took out eight hundred.

At the used market I dug up a three-wheeled cart that rattled everywhere except the bell.

With what was left I set up the basics, a stainless steel prep counter, a burner, and a few essential ingredients.

Night fell.

I set up a stall at the Tigerlark night market, the busiest spot on the North Side.

But the beginning is always the hardest.

At first, since I was new.

And had no flashy sign or gimmicks.

Almost nobody stopped at my stall.

It wasn't until I was nearly ready to pack up that I finally got my first customer.

"Hey, one order of fried chicken cutlets."

A taxi driver pulled up in front of my stall.

Light the burner, heat the oil in the pan.

Every move smooth, one flowing into the next.

Five minutes later, a golden, fragrant chicken cutlet came out of the oil.

The driver was in a hurry, just looking to fill his stomach.

But the moment he took a bite, his eyes lit right up.

"Not bad at all, man! Crispy outside, tender inside, sauce all over it. This is good!"

He praised it freely between bites.

I just gave a faint smile.

"Glad you like it. Come back anytime."

Where there's one, there's a second.

That night, I sold thirty-five orders of fried chicken cutlets.

Fifteen dollars an order.

After costs, I cleared two hundred sixty in profit.

And that two hundred sixty, I didn't have to split with a single soul.

Looking at my daughter's sleeping face, I felt the drive fill me up again, and the exhaustion seemed to fall right off me.

On the strength of my signature secret sauce and fresh ingredients, I drew in batch after batch of regulars.

My little stall started to make a name for itself at the night market, and business kept getting hotter.

Until three months later.

My stall got a visitor I never expected.

3: 3

Three months can change a lot of things.

Like the fact that my cart now had regulars who kept coming back.

On the busiest nights the line stretched all the way to the mouth of the alley.

That day.

I was bent over one of the fried chicken cutlets, brushing on the sauce.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a figure I knew.

Sarah had on a black trench coat, her makeup flawless, her hair pinned up without a strand out of place.

Standing there in the crowd, she looked out of place.

She pushed through the line and stopped in front of me.

My hands didn't stop moving.

I glanced up, let my eyes rest on her face for less than a second, then looked back down.

"If you want a cutlet, get in line."

Sarah frowned, distaste all over her face.

"I'm not here to eat."

"Earl, we need to talk."

Same tone she always used, looking down on everyone.

"No time. Can't you see how many customers are still waiting?"

"Next."

I looked right past her, at the person behind her.

Sarah, humiliated and furious, suddenly lunged forward and snatched the sauce brush out of my hand.

"Stop brushing!"

I grabbed the brush back, my tone unchanged.

"Ma'am, if you're here to buy a fried chicken cutlet, get in line at the back. If you're not, step aside."

The people still waiting saw her cut ahead and weren't having it.

"Hey, what's your problem? Can't you see we're all in line?!"

"Yeah, no manners at all."

"Money doesn't make you special."

Every eye turned on Sarah, hard and accusing.

She stood frozen, her face flushing and paling by turns.

A student behind her, tired of her just standing there, pushed her along.

"Lady, can you move? If you're not buying, other people are!"

Sarah looked at me, head down and busy, then glanced back at the row of people glaring at her.

She clenched her teeth and stepped off to the side of the line.

I acted like I hadn't seen a thing.

It was nearly ten at night by the time I closed up.

I saw the last customer off and started packing the cart.

Folding table, little stools, seasoning jars, one by one onto the three-wheeler.

I was almost done when Sarah, who'd been standing off to the side the whole time, suddenly stepped up and slapped a fat envelope down in front of me.

"A hundred thousand. Sell me your sauce recipe."

She said it with her chin tilted up, like she had every right to.

"The recipe?"

I glanced down at the envelope, then looked back up at her.

"That's right. The recipe."

She let out a cold laugh.

"Don't think I don't know. All those days you shut yourself in the kitchen, you were working out the barbecue sauce."

"By rights, you developed that recipe in Saul's shop, so you should've left it there when you walked out."

"Saul's got a good heart. For old times' sake, he'll give you a hundred thousand. Call it compensation."

I laughed.

"A hundred thousand and you think you can buy my recipe? Dream on."

"Go tell Saul Gilbert, forget a hundred thousand. Even for a million, I'm not selling."

Sarah, choking on her anger, jabbed a finger at my nose and snapped.

"Earl, take the win and quit while you're ahead. Don't push your luck!"

"While I'm still being nice, you've got a hundred thousand to walk away with. Keep getting greedy and forget a hundred thousand, you won't see ten bucks."

I lifted the pot and flung the dirty dishwater in Sarah's direction.

"Where'd this stray dog come from, barking nonstop! Get lost!"

The wash water splashed all over her.

Sarah shrieked and stumbled back, jabbing her finger at me, her voice vicious.

"Earl, you just wait!"

4: 4

I'd figured that once Sarah went home, she and Saul would find some way to get back at me.

I just hadn't expected it to come this fast.

The next evening, I'd barely set up my cart.

Several people in uniform pushed through the crowd and walked straight up to the stall.

The noise died all at once.

The middle-aged man leading them flashed a badge.

"Health department inspection unit. Routine check."

"We've had a report that you're passing off inferior goods and using expired, spoiled ingredients. We'll need your cooperation."

"What?"

"Expired, spoiled ingredients?"

Somebody in the crowd yelped.

Everyone was staring at the chicken cutlets in their hands like they were about to be sick.

"Ugh!"

One customer who'd just bitten into a cutlet spat it right back out with a loud gag.

The diners backed away.

A few of them held up their phones, recording, and went live.

The whole scene turned into chaos.

I looked up.

Just in time to catch Saul and Sarah standing at the edge of the crowd, arms folded, enjoying every second of it.

I turned my eyes back, expression flat, voice level.

"Gentlemen, thanks for your trouble."

"Every ingredient I sell here has been tested. Whether anything's expired or spoiled, you're welcome to check all of it."

As I spoke, I pulled out the purchase records from the past month.

Every one clearly marked with the date and the supplier's name.

Behind each ingredient was an inspection report, every one stamped with the testing agency's official seal.

I had nothing to hide, and it showed.

The diners relaxed a good deal.

The inspection unit sealed up samples of the ingredients on the spot.

They even took samples of every seasoning I used.

Until the results came back, I wasn't allowed to keep running the stall.

There'd be no business tonight, so I could only pack the things I'd just set out back up again.

The crowd slowly drifted off.

Saul came over with his arm around Sarah.

"Earl, if you're smart, you'll hand over the recipe yourself. Maybe if I'm in a good mood, I'll put in a word for you down at the office."

"Otherwise, you're not just looking at a shutdown. You're looking at a hundred-thousand-dollar fine."

"A hundred grand. Even if you sold yourself off for parts, you couldn't scrape that together, could you?"

Saul's tone was mocking, his eyes full of that cheap, small-time triumph.

I didn't so much as glance at him, just set the last of the little stools onto the cart.

"Same as before. You want my recipe, forget it."

"If the results prove there's something wrong with my ingredients, I'll take the fine."

"But if they prove my ingredients are fine and someone framed me out of spite, that someone had better not expect to walk away clean either."

Saul and Sarah thought this would put me in a corner.

What they didn't get was that I hadn't taken their threat to heart at all.

Cheap tricks like this, I'd seen plenty of them in all my time at the night market.

I'd seen dirtier.

All I can say is this.

The innocent clear their own name.

Saul's face went pale, a flicker of panic in his eyes.

He faked his composure, stiffened his neck, and let out a hard, cold snort.

"Fine. You've got guts! Let's see how long you can keep this up."

Then he stalked off, dragging Sarah with him, seething.

The inspection unit worked fast.

The report came back the very next day.

The day I got it, my stall was ringed with people.

Saul and Sarah looked certain they'd won, wearing the faces of two people settling in to watch the show.

"After testing, Earl Fox's stall has all required permits, meets sanitation standards, and uses fresh ingredients. There are no problems whatsoever."

"Effective immediately, the shutdown order on the stall is lifted."

A cheer broke out from the crowd.

"Told you this place was clean! I eat here every day and I've never had a problem!"

"Whoever reported him is rotten to the core! Just jealous, can't stand to see anyone else do well!"

Saul and Sarah froze, the smug smiles wiped off their faces in an instant.

Sarah stared at me, her eyes full of disbelief.

"How is that possible? We clearly..."