The Bad Boy with a Heart of Gold

✖ Chapter 2 ✖

Young Alberto Martinez's dream was to have his own car shop.

The prospects of that happening were slim to none. He was poor, fatherless and had five other siblings, and they had the misfortune of living in one of the poorest slums of the Venezuelan capital, where it was just as easy to die in the middle of gang crossfire as it was to become one of the killers. And he thought that was going to be his fate until he fell in love with Maria Lucia Fernandez.

She was the daughter of a car shop owner.

How did they even meet, you may wonder? Well, one afternoon Alberto and his buddies wheeled a car into that shop that they'd just stolen nearby. Except they'd botched up the spark plug and the car wouldn't move. He took one look at Maria Lucia, at the sweet smile and disposition she had back then, and right then and there he decided that he was going to become The Man for her.

So I guessed his dream hadn't started out as being all about the car shop, it was about marrying the car shop owner—and then becoming the owner.

His life of petty crime had taught him a lot about cars and motorcycles, so the transition from that to his to be father-in-law's car shop was not terribly difficult. What did prove impossible was to convince the gang that he was not about that life anymore, even after years of living a clean and decent life with his wife. So he packed up his bags, grabbed Maria Lucia and their firstborn, and requested asylum in the USA.

Two decades later and he'd made his dreams come true. He and his family were American citizens, proud owners of a family business that recently expanded to a second location and even though he didn't have any sons to put their muscle behind the business, he had two daughters and a new dream: for them to use their brains to further expand the business.

Phase one of the new dream was my sister. Antonieta, or Toni as she preferred to be called, was admitted into the Finance and Accounting program at UCF two summers ago. Phase two was me, Rory, or Aurora as my parents named me, and my role was to go into Business Administration.

Which was why it was so important that I blew it out of the park with my college applications. Not only was I the last piece for the Martinez Fernandez decades' long plan, but I also had to make sure to fulfill it within a short commute distance of the two car shops, so that I could at least help during the weekends like I currently was.

It was Saturday morning and the niggling fear that I was not doing enough had haunted my second week back at school. I went back to Mr. Davies' office a couple of times more, and although we came up with a few more ideas, there was not much else that was benefiting the school that we could think of, the same way it would to make a certain someone receive his high school diploma.

"Wouldn't that be a heartwarming story for the school paper?" he mused aloud two days ago, in a way that was obviously trying to guilt trip me into going along with the idea. Instead I suggested tutoring freshmen, or helping the local girl scouts maximize their profits off of thin mints.

He shrugged. "Those things might be nice, but they won't help me."

I gasped. "We're not here to help you, we're here to help me!"

"Rory," he said as he leaned forward against his desk. "You're one the smartest students I've had and frankly one of my favorite of all time. But I'm disappointed I have to spoil the lesson for you before you learn it." I frowned as he paused. "And that is, that the world does not revolve around you."

Of course it didn't. I knew that. The world revolved around the sun and I was neither that big or hot.

But now I sat in my dad's office on Saturday morning, not having made any progress on finding a thing that would turn me from a smart student into the superstar all the local colleges would fight for. I'd been trying to do my homework since the shop opened an hour ago, but instead my head kept wandering and with that my pen went on a trip on my notebook that tried to map the evolution of the topic in my head. I slammed it shut and threw my pen on the desk, looking up to see papa talking with Jerry, one of the most senior guys who was now the second in command of the new branch. I couldn't hear squat all from the conversation, since papa's office was isolated to noise, but I could almost swear that all sound ceased at the sudden arrival.