Meow Matrimony

by Lickel, Lisa;

  “We’re just asking him—”

  “Oh, what a beautiful morning!” The door chime announced an arrival.

  I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face as my gorgeous fiancé hustled in, carrying a large case.

  Jason Clark in all his dark-haired, svelte pretty-boyness followed and promptly burst my bubble of happiness. “What is she doing here?” Jason burbled.

  The voice in my head muttering “How rude” threatened my business formal face.

  Fortunately, Adam leaped to my rescue. “Miss Preston does the ordering for Mea Cuppa stores.”

  “Cut the ‘Miss Preston’ bull,” Jason said. “I know you two are hot and heavy.”

  I wish. I meant, I wished we were right now instead of dealing with whiny losers…professional, Ivy! “That’s right!” I said in my chipper voice. “Why don’t you come on back and show us what you brought.”

  We shuffled toward the office where I’d purposefully cleaned off the large desk surface earlier.

  “Jason, we have store cameras on all the time. Do you mind? I have to inform you for legal purposes, even though we have signs posted in the store,” Adam explained.

  I’d never heard Adam make a deal of it before.

  “Just be sure to catch my good side,” Jason said as we entered the office and circled the desk. He didn’t look up to try to spot a camera.

  I didn’t either because I knew where it was. What was Adam up to? I shook it off and grabbed another chair for Elvis as Adam heaved Jason’s sample case onto his desktop.

  Elvis ignored the chair and stood a couple of feet away where he had a clear view of the action.

  I frowned toward him, but he wouldn’t glance my way.

  Adam gestured at the case and stepped back, letting his fingers rest on the smooth wooden surface.

  I reached for my notebook and pen, mostly to appear busy. And professional. It wasn’t as though we would actually order anything.

  Jason put on this crazy little smirk as he opened the sample case. The expression marred his good looks, smooth high forehead and firm jaw, straight dark brows under perfectly feathered black hair. With a flash of his gold pinky ring set with a diamond, he set up his foil cubes and accompanying literature. He’d probably make a good card dealer, or magician. The smirk, though, was troublesome. I hoped that wasn’t his usual face for his customers. He glanced at me as if he understood what I was thinking and puckered his lips. Then he transformed into a suave salesman wearing a gray pinstriped suit vest over a pale silvery shirt, no tie.

  “So, this little beauty…” Jason held up a blank dark orange foil cube with a flourish. “…Is North Star’s newest delight. Dark chocolate surrounding a layer of nougat surrounding light caramel surrounding a whole roasted pecan. The caramel won’t stick to dental work, and is lightly salted with pink mineral sea salt for that sweet and savory taste. The added benefit of health-enhancing sea salt is sure to please your clientele. Everyone these days is careful about what they put in their mouths, so why not please the palate and the bones?”

  I bit my lip to the keep the snort inside.

  Elvis put a hand over his mouth.

  Adam nodded.

  Jason went on. “Of course, we can have the wrappers printed with whatever wording you desire under our logo.”

  I made a squiggle on the paper. But then I looked back at the cube and squinched my brows. The wrapper. They were different from Featherlight, but still similar in size and shape…

  Jason picked up his next sample and gave a similar spiel. And so on, ending with the literature and some outrageous prices that could never be considered reasonable. “Now, why am I really here?” he asked, as if it was part of his speech.

  Elvis moved forward a foot, keeping all of us in view.

  I did a double take, puzzled by his actions.

  “I prefer to do business with local vendors when possible,” Adam said quietly. “It’s true my stores are mostly in the Chicago city limits, but I also have branches in Wheaton and Joliet. I stock locally made drinks and flavored and dipped coffee beans and gift sets. North Star is close to Apple Grove, so it makes sense to stock a local brand in my Apple Grove store.”

  “But you asked specifically for me,” Jason said.

  “You’re the name I know selling the brand,” Adam countered.

  “You almost act as though you don’t want the sale,” I said, butting in.

  Jason straightened and shifted.

  So did Elvis.

  Jason gave him a cutting glance before facing Adam. “The thing is, I planned to go into another line of work after Ivanna and I got married. I gave notice.”

  “I heard you were fired,” Elvis said.

  Jason thinned his lips and began packing his case.

  “Is that true?” Adam asked. “You’re here under false pretenses?”

  That little smirk made more sense to me. He didn’t have to care about his potential sales. But what else had he planned to do after marrying Ivanna? Probably live off her money after she turned thirty. Which wouldn’t happen now.

  “You’re the one who asked me here, man. I could still get a sale. They haven’t made my resignation official yet.” Jason snapped the case closed as he glared at Elvis. “I don’t know where you could have heard a rumor about someone being…let go.”

  “What do you think about possibly opening a North Star retail store in Apple Grove?” Adam asked.

  Jason shook his head. “No way. North Star doesn’t do brick and mortar business.” He continued to play with the locks on his case.

  We needed a way to keep Jason talking. Had he guessed we wanted to interro—uh, talk to him—more than we wanted to set up an account with North Star Candies?

  “Are those real?” I asked, pointing my pen at the foil-wrapped cube he’d left out.

  “Yeah,” Jason replied warily. “Want it? I didn’t get the gist you folks were interested in a taste test.”

  I shook my head, mentally comparing the logos of North Star and Featherlight.

  He squished the candy into a pocket of his case.

  That got my ire up. Just because I was practically forced by loyalty to refuse a competitor sample didn’t mean he could treat it so poorly. And I was curious.

  “We’re sorry about what happened to your fiancée,” Adam said. His little eyebrow lift was a nice touch, a question without asking it.

  “You’re not still planning to leave the company now, are you?” I asked, desperately trying to come up with some way to keep the conversation semi-legitimate.

  “What do you care?” Jason heaved his case toward the edge of the desk.

  “But I do,” I said. “We all care. What will you do since you can’t marry Ivanna? Where will you…you…uh, work?”

  “Ivy…” Adam muttered in his warning voice.

  “That’s none of your business. But for your information, I’m moving into Ivanna’s old place. Everything I gave her is mine. I’ve got plenty of prospects and a golden opportunity. Ivanna loved me. She had…she was…aw, never mind.” Jason put his other hand on the handle of his case.

  Elvis stepped forward. “Let me help you. I can give you a ride back to your mother’s.”

  “I’m a grown man.” Jason looked at him petulantly. “Of course, I don’t live with my mother. Me and Ivanna…I had it made.”

  “But your mother does own the condo you’re currently living in.” Elvis hovered his hands over Jason’s.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve been looking at places to rent and eventually buy.” Elvis shrugged. “I liked a place on the market and went to look at it. Belonged to Melody Clark. Clark was the name on another mailbox in the lobby. You happened to be coming out.”

  “Yeah, so? It’s in the family. I’ll inherit someday. It’s technically mine.” Jason finally pulled the case off the desk and started walking lopsided toward the hall.

  I squinted. Everything was happening so fast. Why was Jason’s mother selling his
condo if Jason thought he would… “That’s why you didn’t care about your job?” I asked his back. “Because you’ll be rich?”

  His back stiffened. “Ivanna had no one else who cared about her as I did. Not that social-climber menace of a mother, for sure. Besides, Ivanna had a will. I’ll find out for sure what she left me when the will is read on Thursday.” He bustled out, the case bumping his thigh.

  Adam quirked his mouth at me before following Jason.

  Elvis slumped. He pulled the pen from his pocket and flicked it.

  “Whew!” I said as I watched him. “What are you doing?”

  A high tinny voice said, “Because you’ll be rich?”

  I jumped. “What was that? Did you record me?” I went closer. “Is that a super-secret spy recorder? Like for James Bond?”

  “There’s nothing super-secret spy about it,” Elvis said, pouting. “I wanted to try it out and Adam thought this might be a good opportunity.”

  “Adam, huh? So, you guys were conspiring without me? And why would you record this conversation? Oh—that’s why Adam asked if he minded being recorded. But he said the store had cameras.”

  “Oh, what a beautiful morning” played, letting us know the front door had opened. And presumably closed behind Jason Clark.

  Adam returned to the office.

  “What’s going on?” I blurted, hurt that I hadn’t been included. “Did you and Elvis have this planned all along? I hope Stanley’s not involved. What are you getting at, anyway? You said we wanted to talk to him about Ivanna and why he thought he should get me arrested.”

  Elvis held up the pen, attempting to interrupt Adam and me. “It works.”

  “Good.” Adam strode toward me. “Ivy, there are more things going on here. I can’t talk about everything, not even to you.”

  I knew that. I did, though it still stung. “But Elvis?”

  Adam shot him a glance, then faced me again. He put his hands on my shoulders. “In his official work capacity. And please, don’t repeat that to anyone.”

  “I won’t. How about Stanley?”

  He squeezed my shoulders and kissed my nose. “I don’t love Stanley. I love and trust you. And you did OK. You helped us learn something we needed to know.”

  Elvis grinned and flicked his pen.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  Adam and Elvis glanced at each other without making it obvious.

  I hated that. I sighed. “OK! I get it. But I also know something you don’t.” I folded my arms and parked on the desk. I hoped I appeared smug instead of ridiculous.

  This time Elvis and Adam didn’t try to hide a long stare.

  I really wished I could read minds. Were they trying to decide how important my intel was to them? What if they decided not to ask me? I hopped down. “OK, already. Ivanna would’ve been rich. I heard she was coming into a hefty inheritance of her own on her next birthday.”

  “Where did you hear that?” Adam asked.

  I folded my arms as a shield against the intensity of his expression. “At Tiny’s. Just before I was arrested on false pretenses.”

  Adam glanced at Elvis again, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “Follow the money, right?” I took a step toward Elvis. “Isn’t that standard thinking?”

  “Who was talking about Ivanna?” Elvis countered.

  I didn’t blink. “Mm.”

  Adam jerked his chin toward the door, eyes on Elvis.

  Elvis saluted and left, his grin making me want to smack him.

  “I’ll be right back, Ivy. Stay put, OK? We’ll…talk.” Adam followed Elvis.

  I tried to stay collected and walked around the room perimeter. I flicked imaginary dust from the couple of framed prints of old downtown Apple Grove, grainy photos of gangster cars and men in black fedoras, sans machine guns, on the sidewalk out front. The striped barber poles were in front of the shop next door. There was a meat market across the street, flanked by what appeared to be a hat shop, or maybe tobacco…men’s paraphernalia, anyway, and a diner that advertised five-cent coffee painted on the window.

  There were tunnels underground linking several of the buildings. They had been built as escape routes and secret storage facilities long ago. And to hide provisions and town records. I grinned. The photo reminded me of Prohibition days, too, and it was likely some enterprising barkeep hid alcohol under his tavern.

  I smelled the coffee before Adam returned, bearing two steaming mugs.

  “Peace offering?” He held out a ceramic mug with the store label on it to me.

  The coffee was fixed the way I liked it—with a dash of caramel cream. I inhaled, then set it down in order to wrap my arms around my fiancé and accept his embrace. “I don’t mean to be difficult…not really,” I muttered into the front of his soft blue flannel shirt.

  His sigh raised my face and his arms tightened. “I know. I can’t blame you because I’d feel the same if people were dangling secrets in front of me.” He held me away to look me in the eye. “I’ll tell you as much as I can.”

  “I trust you.”

  “You already know Elvis is setting up a storefront shop as a printer with fax and copier service.”

  “About which he knows nothing,” I added cheekily.

  “It’s not really that far-fetched. He was a clerk for a while during his army service. But you also know what else he’s doing here.”

  “Besides marrying Amy Collins?” I reached up to touch his ear, fast losing interest in the conversation. “Yes. The G-man thing?”

  Adam caught my hand in his and held it to the side of his slightly stubbly jaw. “Yes. There is…an issue going on which may or may not involve the interest of Elvis’s boss.”

  “Something that involves other states?”

  “Mmhmm…” he mumbled into my palm.

  “As long as it’s Elvis, not St—” His lips were a nice distraction, but I wasn’t entirely fooled. After a minute or so, I came up for air. “I’m hungry.”

  We flipped off the lights and went up the stairs, where, true to his word, he’d stashed a deli meal of baked chicken and potato salad that only needed to be heated. I finished my rewarmed coffee while glancing through the Apple Grove Gazette. My—our—pet, Memnet, claimed my lap and I stroked his soft silvery ears. He flipped his tail lazily and nuzzled my knuckles when I forgot to actively caress.

  An article and photo featuring a new fitness center took up the center spread. “Hey, Adam! You must have known about this new store, right? I can’t believe I missed it. Fit’r U. Yolanda’s article says they even have nutritional snacks and exercise clothes for sale besides memberships to use the machines and classes. I guess that’s the ‘U’ part.” I dislodged Mem to take a stool at the island separating the kitchen appliances from the living room. “There are a number of people I wouldn’t like to see wandering Apple Grove in yoga pants. I’m one of them.” At Adam’s chuckle I added, “Can’t you make an ordinance? No yoga pants or pajamas in a six-block square around downtown? Or anywhere in public? We don’t want to scare tourists.”

  He deftly transferred the potatoes into a nice, green-glazed pottery serving bowl and handed me plates and silverware. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Ruby was mentioned in the article,” I said while preparing our place settings. “She was one of the first clients and reportedly happy with the classes she’s taking. Recommends the exercise equipment and yoga class. I saw her earlier and she looked really good.”

  Adam handed me a glass of pinot grigio. “I think you look really good.”

  I saluted him with my wine. “Flattery will get you whatever you want.” I sipped, contemplating. “I almost didn’t recognize Ruby.”

  Adam set out the chicken and came around to sit next to me. He entwined our fingers, said grace, and then served me.

  I swirled my wine. “I guess I need to sign up for a class.”

  “I’ll go with you,” he added promptly.

  I pinched my arm to make sure I was
n’t dreaming about my exceptional choice of fiancé.

  “Eat first,” he added.

  After we ate I helped clean up. I liked this kitchen. After all, I had helped him put it together when he had to remodel after the fire last year. I knew where everything went. There was plenty of room for us to dance around each other. It wasn’t all tight and claustrophobic, like my kitchen was. Despite being in an older building, the apartment had a chic, modern feel. I liked antique, but not chunky dark furniture or brick-a-brac. My living room was about the same size as Adam’s, so no loss there. In fact, we had basically the same square footage. A small den served the same purpose as my upper level office, and we each had two bedrooms. Good for one baby. Maybe. Until he or she got older and wanted to play outside. I had a yard at my house. We could add more to my second floor…but that wouldn’t change the footprint. A living room could get crowded with kid stuff fast, like at Martha’s next door.

  I held in a tiny sigh. First, we had to get married. Back to wedding plans. I had narrowed down the choice of dresses to three. Late in the game, but I had done this part before with preparing for a wedding with Stanley and wasn’t fazed. Addy and I had a trip planned the following week to make our final choice at the wedding store in Colby. Where Emblem Paper Works was headquartered. I wondered if she would mind a tour?

  “Ivanna was the major partner of the business,” Adam said quietly while he dried and put away a wineglass.

  “Business?” My mind had a hard time switching gears.

  “Fit’r U. Ruby came with Ivanna when they made their petition before the council to open the business. They needed approval for several issues, including food and clothing sales, and special insurance. I believe Ruby isn’t just a client, but part business owner.”

  “Owner? Ivanna? And Ruby? Friends?” I had missed a lot. “I’m not sure I caught that. Business partner? I guess I could see Ruby leading a class. I thought Ivanna liked the radio, and Ruby was jealous for not getting the morning show. But I didn’t think Ivanna could get her money until her birthday.”

  “Money?” Adam stopped mid-dry. Apparently my one-word-itis was viral.

  “Yeah.” I gave him a lame smile. “Remember, my secret? Ivanna was supposed to inherit a bundle when she turned thirty. Ruby was the one who told me. The one who truly did not act as if she considered Ivanna a friend or any kind of partner. In fact, Ruby seemed annoyed the last time I talked to her at Tiny’s, as if she didn’t like Ivanna much at all.”