What's in It for Me? Read Online Free

I’m smart. I’m not just an ordinary dope of a resident buyer. I look out for my client’s interests. I get him the same dress that his competitor pays ten-seventy-five for, for nine-seventy-five. For a service like that, don’t you think I’m entitled to make something extra for myself besides the regular lousy little commission my clients pay me?”
    â€œYeah, but hell, Mr. Bogen,” he said slightly horrified, “you’re not entitled to make four-seventy-five on each dress!”
    â€œWho says I’m making four-seventy-five on each dress?” I demanded. “You’re getting a half buck out of that. All I’m making is four and a quarter on each dress.”
    â€œHell,” he said slowly, “suppose it wasn’t a job lot? My God, you could go into a regular manufacturer and buy a ten-seventy-five dress and tell your client you paid fifteen-seventy-five for it! It’s the same thing. One is just as—”
    I stared at him in amazement. The fourteen carat ideas you can sometimes get from the most unlikely places were enough to sit you on your bottom with a thud. But I recovered quickly. Recovering quickly is one of the choice items in my repertoire.
    â€œI’ll tell you what,” I said briskly. “I’ll make that an extra buck per dress for you. Six bucks each for the thousand if you bill them out for me at nine-seventy-five each. What do you say?”
    So I’d only make $3,750.00 on the deal instead of $4,250.00. It was only a difference of $500.00. And I owed him something for putting me on the trail of a bigger take, even if he didn’t know it.
    â€œNothing doing,” he said firmly. “You should make three-seventy-five on each dress and I should make only a dollar? And I’m gonna do all the work yet, making out the charges, shipping, and all the rest?”
    I eyed him carefully.
    â€œWhat’s on your mind?” I asked.
    He slapped the table sharply.
    â€œI bill them out for nine-seventy-five and you wanted I should take five apiece for them,” he said. “All right, I’ll tell you what. We split the difference on the four-seventy-five, you half and me half, and it’s a deal.”
    It was my turn to go into the lip-chewing act. But I supplemented the performance with a pencil. On the back page of my order book I did some figuring. Half of four-seventy-five was two-thirty-seven. That meant on a thousand dresses I would be making about $2,370.00. It wasn’t as good as $3,750.00, but it was still good pay for a day’s work. I dropped the pencil and looked at him.
    â€œFor a dollar extra per dress,” I sneered, “it wasn’t honest. But for two-thirty-seven extra per dress, it’s honest, hah?”
    â€œWas it my idea, Mr. Bogen?” he asked. “From you I learned it, didn’t I? And anyway,” he added, “for a young man like you, Mr. Bogen, I think it’s enough for one day if you make only twenty-three or twenty-four hundred dollars.”
    â€œMaybe you’re right,” I said, getting up. “Is it a deal?”
    â€œIt’s a deal,” he said.
    I handed him the sheaf of orders.
    â€œThe addresses of my clients and the quantity of dresses for each store is in this stack,” I said. “Send the shipping receipts up to my office tomorrow morning, and I’ll give your boy my check for—”
    â€œFor seventy-three hundred and eighty dollars,” he said promptly.
    I grinned at him and shook my head.
    â€œWith a brain like yours, Mr. Koenig, it’s a wonder to me you should ever find yourself in a tight spot for money and you should have to let job lots of dresses go at a sacrifice.”
    He aped my grin and swung it back to me.
    â€œYou don’t look like such a jerk to me either, Mr. Bogen,” he said.
    We both laughed.
    â€œThe smartest of us get caught once in a while, eh?” I said.
    â€œEven