by Gina LaManna
I wandered around town, past the boardwalk, down to Babs’s office. She worked for a small firm with offices that overlooked the ocean. They had great coffee and the receptionist liked me, so now and again I’d pop in for my morning jolt of caffeine.
“Hi Lola, it’s been a while!” Martie Plunket sat at the front desk. “What brings you here today?”
“Well, according to Luke Anderson, the second floor of Psychic in Pink is due to come crashing down at any second.” I meandered toward the breakroom. “I figured it was safer to be outside the house today, so I thought I’d stop by.”
“Liar!” Babs yelled from her office. “You’re bored and you wanted coffee!”
“That too,” I said, and Martie laughed.
“Help yourself,” she said. “I made extra. Also, I saved your favorite mug from the vultures this morning.”
“You’re my hero.” I filled up the chipped Mickey Mouse mug that had worked its way into my heart with fresh, dark coffee. “Babs, are you free?”
“I’m on the phone,” she said. “Conference call. Go walk around for ten minutes and come back.”
“Thank goodness for the mute button,” Martie tittered. “Take the mug. If you’re going out, there are pink frosted doughnuts at Dungeons and Donuts this morning.”
“You don’t say?”
She waggled her eyebrows. “I did save you a mug. Don’t forget about me when you’re standing in line.”
“And you mooch all my coffee,” Babs said. “Get three of the doughnuts.”
I raised my mug in salute and disappeared out the front door, the bell tinkling as I left. It really was a beautiful morning. As I sipped my coffee and strolled along the water’s edge, I realized things could be worse. My apartment had not collapsed yet, I had caffeine, and I had great friends. Things weren’t so bad.
Things got even better when I stepped into Dungeons and Donuts and spotted the pink beauties behind the case. “Hi Darrel,” I said. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
Darrel the Doughnut guy was ruddy faced, impatient, and a teddy bear. “You want the pink frosting. Four?”
“Three,” I said. “Annalise is at practice.”
“Wouldn’t kill the three of you to tag along with her for a day to get some exercise. All this sugar is gonna clog your arteries one of these days.”
“Did you call me fat?”
“Don’t get me started, Lola. If you drop dead of a heart attack at twenty-eight, I don’t wanna get sued.”
I winked. “I’ll never tell.”
Darrel handed over the doughnuts as I fished in my wallet. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Hit me next time.”
“You’re the worst salesman ever. Do you know that, Darrel?” I had a running tab with the man and settled at the end of every month. Sometimes if I was lucky, Babs would order doughnuts for clients and loop my purchases in with her expense bill. “See ya.”
“Those are on me,” a voice said from behind me. “I’ll pay for these three doughnuts, please.”
I spun around and almost smacked into Gary’s chest. “You’re—”
“Ten bucks should cover it?” Gary handed over a ten and hooked his arm through mine. He wore jeans and a button up, sleeves rolled to his elbows in a casual way. “Can we please talk?”
Darrel watched our interaction closely. “Everything all right, Lola?”
I wiggled my arm out of his grasp. “It’s fine. What do you want, Gary?”
“Can I talk to you, please? Let’s walk.”
“We can talk right here,” I said firmly. “With Darrel watching.”
“Tables are for customers only,” Darrel said, handing the money back. “Sorry, this isn’t good here.”
“But—”
“The lady already paid for her own doughnuts.”
“Then I’d like a coffee. Black.” Gary handed the ten back. “Lola, please. Five minutes.”
“Fine.” I gestured toward a table and murmured a thank you at Darrel. Talking with someone from Graham Industries was the last thing on my to-do list for the day, but at least he’d stopped me at a good place. Darrel was big and burly, and very defensive of both his doughnuts and his friends. I’m pretty sure I bought enough doughnuts to be considered his friend. “Five minutes.”
Gary sat opposite me with his hands folded in front of him. He waited to speak until Darrel dropped off a steaming mug of coffee next to mine.
“I told you not to bring your own coffee,” Darrel said to me. “What’s with the Mickey Mouse mug?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t planning on staying.”
“We’ll take another cup,” Gary said. “For the lady. Add it to my tab.”
“You don’t get a tab, buddy,” Darrel said.
“I gave you ten bucks. That should cover two coffees.”
“You gave it to me for your coffee. This is a new transaction.”
If I didn’t know better, Darrel was having fun with the guy. Clearly, Gary wanted something, and he’d pay for it—Darrel wasn’t an idiot, and he’d exploit every bit of the opportunity.
Gary handed over another fiver with a sigh. “Are we good?”
“If you don’t upset the lady, we’re good.” Darrel pocketed the cash and returned to the register.
Darrel continued to stare intensely at us until Gary shifted in his seat. “Is that necessary? I’m uncomfortable here.”
“Talk,” I said, holding one mug of coffee in each hand. “My time’s limited.”
“I need your help with Mr. Clark.”
“I can’t help you there,” I said. “Sorry.”
“He cares about you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”
“Yesterday morning I walked into the dining room, and the two of you—”
“Ohhh,” I murmured, remembering the instance. What a difference a day makes. “Whatever you thought you saw, you got the wrong idea. I’m—er, I was—his personal assistant. I’m not anymore.”
“I need you to talk some sense into him. I have a feeling you’re the only person he’ll listen to on a matter of this size.”
“What’s the size?”
“An offer from Graham Industries,”
“Why would I do that?”
“You care about him, don’t you?”
“He was my boss. That’s all. What don’t you understand?”
“Just a boss. No prior relationship, no future relationship of any sort.” He watched me carefully. “You’re sure.”
I hesitated for the briefest of seconds. “No. I mean, yes, I’m sure there was no relationship.” I took a sip of my coffee. “And there won’t be any in the future because I quit last night. I’ll never see him again.”
“Ah, I see. May I ask why you quit?”
“Because—”
When I started to explain it, the situation sounded a little weak. I quit a very well-paying job because Mr. Clark was mean to his employees? I rolled my eyes at own pathetic-ness. A true businessperson would’ve found Nick, turned him over, and moved on. But instead, I picked a fight with my boss and quit, abandoning the capital I needed to start my own business. “I don’t owe you any explanation.”
“I see,” Gary said. “Well, should you change your mind and return to Castlewood, please consider my offer.”
“You don’t think I know what you guys are doing?” I pulled both of my coffee mugs closer to me and took a sip from between Mickey Mouse’s ears. “Someone over at Graham Industries is trying to sabotage the Clark Company. Now you’re trying to coerce Mr. Clark into selling while he’s worrying that the biggest deal of the year won’t go through.”
“If you had no feelings for him, you’d listen to my offer and take the cut,” Gary said. “I’m not asking you to make the sale, I’m just asking you to put a bug in his ear.”
I fell a bit speechless, and sipped more furiously from Mickey.
“Here’s my number,” Gary said, scribbling some
digits onto a napkin. “I know you need money to redo that psychic money pit your grandmother left behind. Whatever Mr. Clark was paying you to work for him, I’ll match it.”
I glanced behind me at Darrel, who suddenly busied himself cleaning the glass cases. I was about to turn back and tell Gary where to shove his offer when I caught sight of the suit outside the shop. Mr. Clark.
The windows of Dungeons and Donuts were open, the sea breeze drifting through. Dane looked through the window, any shine in his eye evaporating, leaving hollow, dark gemstones behind.
“Dane!” I stood up, heart racing, and moved toward him. “Oh, no, Dane—it’s not what it looks like!”
Before I could make my way through the store, Mr. Clark signaled with his hand and Semi pulled up in the hefty black SUV. Mr. Clark climbed inside, gave one last, hurt glance over his shoulder, and then he was gone.
As they sped away, Semi’s gaze met my eyes. His, too, was filled with disappointment. The look sent a physical streak of pain through my stomach.
“This is your fault!” I turned to Gary, jabbed a finger in his face. “Are you happy?”
Gary stood, adjusted his coat, and laid another five bucks on the table. The smug expression on his lips told me that yes, he was happy. Very happy indeed.
It dawned on me in that moment, and I knew exactly what was happening. Graham Industries was isolating Mr. Clark. One by one, they were going after all of his employees, picking them off like a sniper, until Dane would have no choice but to sell.
Graham Industries was good at their job, good at playing dirty. They were so good that at this rate, it would only be a matter of time before Mr. Clark was alone in his castle.
“Get out of here, Gary,” I said. “Darrel, if this man ever comes back, shove a doughnut up his you-know-what.”
Babs curved around the corner then and poked her head through the open window. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s not waste precious donuts up his you-know-what. I’m part of the Save the Doughnut movement.”
“Go!” I told Gary. “Now.”
“Whoa, sister.” Babs caught the tone of my words and, without asking for an explanation, glared at Gary. “You need me to shove something up somewhere, Lo? I’d recommend my heels. These pumps are deadly.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Gary said. “You won’t be seeing me again.”
“Good.” Babs snarled at Gary. “Because I happen to like these shoes.”
Gary left then, walking down the boardwalk until the frustrated tears pooling in my eyes blurred the sight of him.
“Hey, honey, come here.” Babs squeezed me to her. “Let me get a doughnut and you can cry all you want.”
“I already got you a doughnut,” I said, my voice cracking as I pointed at the table.
“Need me to take care of him?” Darrel asked. “Happy to do it, Babs.”
“I’ll let you know,” Babs said. “First, I have to get her talking. Come on, girlfriend.”
We sat at the table and I spilled my guts about everything that’d happened since we’d dropped Babs at her car the previous night. From Nick getting fired, to my quitting and storming away, to the surprise meeting with Gary.
“Then Dane walked by and heard the end of the conversation,” I said with a hiccup. “Now he thinks that Gary offered me a position with Graham Industries.”
“You didn’t accept it, did you?”
“Of course not! But he drove off with Semi before I could explain.”
“Honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just a little miscommunication. Pick up the phone and call him if you’re worried about it.”
“Oh,” I said. “I suppose that’s not so bad.”
“Gary cornered you, not the other way around. And if Mr. Clark hadn’t hired you in the first place, Gary would’ve never found you.”
“True,” I said, finally calming to normal levels of hiccups. “It’s not a big deal, right? I’m just overreacting.”
“What I’m wondering is why you overreacted at all,” Babs said. “He fired Nick. You quit. You have no ties to him anymore. What do you care if Dane thinks you’re working for Graham Industries?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re free to work wherever you want. I made sure there weren’t any lingering terms in the contract. It was very fair; you’re free as a bird.”
“Oh.”
“That doesn’t look like it’s making you feel any better.”
“It’s just…I feel like I let him down. The way he looked at me—him and Semi. They were so disappointed.”
“She likes the boss,” Darrel said. “And the boss likes her.”
Babs’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t be dumb, Darrel. Lola would tell me if she had a crush on her boss. Wouldn’t you, Lola?”
“I don’t like my boss! I’m just a loyal employee.”
Darrel rolled his eyes. “Right. And I’m the dumb one.”
“I’ve gotta go,” I said. “Can you take the mugs and the doughnuts?”
“If you invite me to the wedding,” Babs murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
As I left Dungeons and Donuts, my feet carried me back toward Psychic in Pink. I pushed open the door, not sure what’d brought me here or why—after all this, I was feeling horrible. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d quit because I didn’t believe in my company’s morals, and this morning I’d been cornered by a rival employee.
Two steps into the shop, however, my stomach sank another few notches. There, on the table, was an envelope with my name printed in small, detailed handwriting.
The envelope was thick, and as soon as I picked it up, I knew what was inside.
A hundred and twenty thousand dollars, from one Mr. Dane Clark.
He didn’t answer my phone calls, texts, e-mails—nothing. After lunch, I finally drove myself over to his castle, but I couldn’t get ahold of him there, either. The guards sent me away at the gate, and when I parked a few blocks out in Babs’s secret hiding place and tried to sneak in, they stopped me again.
“What should we do with her?” The guards asked into the walkie-talkie. “She says she wants to see Mr. Clark.”
The walkie remained silent for so long, I wondered if it was working at all.
Then it crackled, and he spoke. Dane. “Please thank her for coming and send her home.”
“Dane!” I called, but the guards wouldn’t let me speak to him. Luckily, I’d brought the envelope with me. “Will you take this to the castle?” I thrust it into their hands. “It belongs to Mr. Clark.”
“Sir, she’s forcing an envelope into our hands that she says belongs to you. What would you like me to do with it?”
This time, Mrs. Dulcet answered. “He’s gone into his meetings,” she paused, whispering to Mr. Clark in the background. She was not very good at stealth-like spy business.
“He’s not in meetings!” I protested. “I can hear him talking to her.”
“Mr. Clark says the contents of the envelope belong to her now. He’ll have her things sent over shortly,” Mrs. Dulcet said, before adding, “but he says thank you for the thought.”
I knew Mrs. Dulcet had tacked on the last part herself, but there was nothing more I could do. Maybe I could mail him the money, or... or wait a week and sneak in after ten p.m. using the yellow handrail path. Whatever the outcome, I couldn’t accept the money.
“Go home,” the guards said. “Please, lady. He doesn’t want to see you.”
I slunk back to my vehicle’s hiding place, thunked the money on the seat next to me, and drove home. Babs and Annalise were waiting inside the shop.
“We thought you could use some fun,” Babs said. “Let’s plan out exactly what you want for Shades of Pink. That way when the money comes, we’ll be ready to go.”
I added get a job to my task list, and then smiled at my friends. “You guys don’t have to do this,” I said. “We can see a movie or something.”
“What about an espresso
machine over here?” Babs pointed toward the far wall. “You can keep the squishy chair, that whole dented-furniture-vibe Dotty had going on—all cozy and warm and stuff.”
“Then at the back, you can have a white wall with your sunglasses display,” Annalise said. “That’ll be the clean, sleek section.”
I smiled at the girls and sunk into the planning process with them. The entire time, a hundred and twenty thousand dollars burned a hole in my pocket. My mind worked for ways to return it to Mr. Clark, but I was running on empty.
While Babs was detailing a new wraparound couch that would warm by the fireplace, I had an idea. “Annalise, you have a little thing for Semi, right?”
“Absolutely not,” she said, and then she blushed. She, too, made for a horrible spy.
I explained about finding the money. “I need to get it back to him. Keeping it is out of the question. Will you two help?”
“I’ll help—I’ll bring my eggs,” Babs said. “And my heels. I’m like a one-man-army with all those weapons.”
“Or, I can just bring it on my date with Semi tonight,” Annalise said, her ears burning red. “We’re going to dinner, and I can drop it off after.”
“Oh, you bimbo!” Babs rounded on Annalise. “How did you not tell us you had a date? Dish. Tell us everything. Now.”
Annalise had explained the full story, which really wasn’t much more than Semi calling and asking her to dinner, when a knock sounded at the front door.
“Keep talking,” I instructed the girls while I went to greet the guest. I pulled the door open and blinked in surprise. “Luke! What are you doing here?”
“I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hello,” he said. “Is it a bad time?”
“No, but...” I guided him outside. The envelope with the money was sitting out on the table, and I felt weird about him seeing it. “Serious girl talk happening in there. Quick walk?”
He looped his arm through mine. “It’d be a pleasure. Although I have to admit, I’m surprised to find you at home.”