Chapter 14
Juniper
He has good teeth, too, perfectly set and very white.
The better to eat you with, my dear.
“Anyway, I really appreciate the effort you put into the sampler.” He hands me a business card with Dexter Rory blazing across it in gold letters. Underneath, I see the words Higher Ends International. “My associate was especially impressed with everything you delivered.” There’s something actually warm in his voice now, and I straighten. Did he just say impressed? “I came by because I was hoping we could meet later, after the bakery closes.”
Meet? After close?
Oh, hell. Is he asking me on a date?
Then again, I’ve never had a man give me his business card when he’s asking me on a date before, but he doesn’t exactly look like he knows how it works in the real world.
“I have a proposal,” he says when I hesitate.
Like he can see the panic in my face, his jaw twitches and his smile dims a little.
“A business proposal for you,” he corrects, nodding at the card in my hand. “A lucrative opportunity for both of us.”
“Oh. Oh, right, a business proposition,” I murmur, giving myself time to think. “Okay. Yes. I can do that.”
“When do you close?”
Calm down, down.
“We close at six on the weekdays,” I tell him. Just in case his privileged ass has forgotten that most people work during weekdays and need to get home -for the evening to do it all again the next day. “If you want to come back around six–thirty, we can discuss your–opportunity.”
“Six–thirty sharp. See you then.” He nods, his smile gone, and heads back out the door.
Whoa.
It’s weird that he looks more like a guardian angel than a swinging dick. That’s how I know my mind is going to very weird places.
Although maybe that has more to do with the way his suit fits over his broad shoulders like it was made for them.
He’s a handsome devil, I’ll give him that.
Even his business card is nice and flashy. Lacquered, gold embossed, and it has that extra weight that whispers money.
Bad puns aside, Big Fish really knows how to make a splash. I purse my lips as I tilt it so the lettering catches the light.
Higher Ends International, huh? Whatever that is.
Sounds expensive. Sounds successful.
The name makes me wonder if whatever he’s up to could be a good opportunity.
But I know not to get my hopes up. I’ve met guys like Dexter Rory before. Rich men who think they’re entitled to the entire world just for breathing.
Nana didn’t raise a dummy. Whenever a big, easy opportunity knocks, there’s always a catch.
There must be.
I just need to figure out what this one is before it sticks in my skin like a rusty hook.
By the time closing rolls around, I need a hairband to keep my frizzy hair in check.
Journey of Separatis
14.9%
Chapter 14
My whole head goes to war with the summer as soon as the humid months hit.
My cheeks are red from whizzing from one side of the store to the other, only stopping a few times under the creaky ceiling fan to take the sweat off my neck.
My accounts still aren’t done, and we had such a late influx of customers I’m still recovering from whiplash. Long summer nights and no school means older kids come pouring in for their sugar fix less than an hour before close.
I scuttle through cleanup and flip the sign on the door, switching off the lights on the front. I notice a couple letters burning out in BOWL.
Another repair.
Awesomesauce.
Maybe the money slated for the computer will have to go toward the lighting after all.
I rub
my hand over my throbbing face and lean back against the door.
And there, striding through the late crowds of people shopping and heading home, is Mr. Big Punctual Fish. It’s not a minute past six–thirty.
Clearly, he doesn’t wait.
Emmy and Jake are in the back, taking off their aprons and washing up one more time before heading home. I told them I’d clean up tonight, and they’re all too happy to leave me to it.
Listening to them chattering happily about their plans after work, I can’t quite push back the bite of jealousy.
Once, that was me.
And now I’m here, mopping and scrubbing and meeting with a guy who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else now that he’s here.
The bell tinkles cheerfully as he lets himself in, ignoring the Closed sign.
Go figure.
He also looks just as attractive as he did earlier, though there’s something tight around his jaw.
Something tense.
The guy’s straight pissy about something, which does not bode well for me and this little business meeting.
“Coffee?” I ask, switching on the machine. “I’m having one.”
“Sounds great. Thanks.” He parks himself at a table near the freshly cleaned bakery case.
15.50%
