Double Trouble

by Curry, Edna

  “That’s terrible!”

  “As for the ring, I returned it to Ken. We’ve broken our engagement.”

  “Oh, really? I mean, I’m sorry. Is it still a secret, or…” A dark blush crept up Karen’s face.

  Was she sorry? Rosie wondered. She suspected Karen had once had her cap set for Ken for herself and was more than a little put out when Ken had chosen Rosie. But, what did it matter now? Ken had plainly said he was not the marrying kind, and so soon after insisting on making their engagement public, too. She was still having trouble understanding that big turnaround.

  But she was relieved, too. She hadn’t had to break their engagement herself. He’d done it for her, and she still had her job. Be grateful for small favors.

  Still, Karen’s attitude rankled.

  Rosie forced a smile. “Thanks, Karen. No, it’s not a secret. You can tell the others we’re no longer engaged, so I won’t have to. “She would, anyway, Rosie thought. So why not give her permission to gossip?

  Her face red, Karen nodded and fled back to her desk.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning, Rosie went to Ken’s apartment as she’d promised. She was pleased to see him dressed and ready to go for their errands. Except for the black eye, now darker but less puffy, he looked good--in fact, handsome in blue slacks and an off-white shirt. Usually he wore a suit and tie to the office, but maybe he’d dressed more casually for errands and shopping. It was odd how many little things he did differently now. She’d have to remember to ask the doctor why amnesia affected behavior that much. The doctor hadn’t seemed to want to explain things to her the other day, though.

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked as they walked to her car. “Your eye isn’t as swollen as it was yesterday.”

  “The ice seems to help. Except for a bit of a headache, yes, I think I’m okay,” he said.

  “Do you want to stop for some breakfast first?”

  “Not unless you do. I made coffee and found some English muffins in the freezer.”

  “I ate at home. So, do you want to go to the DMV first to apply for a replacement drivers’ license?”

  “Right.”

  “Do you have some utility and credit card bills to use as ID?”

  “Yes, I have those. Then let’s go to the office.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to replace your furniture? Or buy some food?”

  “That can wait. My bed and desk are okay, and they’re the main things I use there, anyway. And I seldom cook.”

  Shocked, she turned her attention back to traffic. “Mr. Perfect” was putting up with a sofa and chairs with knife cuts and no seats? Those blows to his head must have really done a number on him. She’d heard people often change after a near-death experience. Maybe that’s what this was.

  After they’d dealt with replacing his driver’s license, they went to Latham Building Supply.

  Rosie parked in her reserved space in back, and glanced at Ken. “Does anything look familiar?”

  He shrugged. “Not especially. The parking lot is pretty messy, isn’t it? Doesn’t anyone do garbage detail?”

  She stared at him. “I’ve mentioned that to you a couple of times, Ken. You always said it was a waste of manpower.”

  His head swung around. “Well, it’s not. Have someone do it every day.”

  “Of course.”

  He scowled at her as if she’d objected, although she hadn’t. “Image means a lot to our company.”

  “How do you know that, Ken?”

  He got out of the car, still frowning. “You told me I had a business degree, didn’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “So, obviously, I know a lot of things about running a business, Rosie, even if I can’t remember the details about running this one.”

  She smiled and walked into the store with him. “I’ll see that someone gets on it right away.” Well, she thought, smothering a laugh. One battle won without even trying. She’d been arguing about that for months, but Ken had been on a money-saving kick and kept cutting back staff hours so much that only the basics could get done.

  Inside the store, he paused to look around. Several employees gave him a nervous greeting and didn’t seem at all surprised to get only a polite, generic reply. They’d probably heard about his amnesia, she thought. Though, come to think of it, Ken seldom paid much attention to the floor employees anyway, so they didn’t expect anything more.

  “How about a quick tour?” he asked. She nodded and walked him through the store, giving him a short summary of each department as they went.

  ~ * ~

  He paid attention to the store’s operation as they walked through it. Again, he noted that although the employees seemed to be working hard, everything seemed a little disorganized and messier than he thought it should be.

  In the paint department, a card of brushes lay on the floor. He picked it up and replaced it on the display rod. A nearby employee who was helping a customer noticed and commented, “Sorry. I should have gotten that. We’re a little behind, Sir. We never seem to get caught up lately.”

  He watched the man hurry off to help another customer.

  He turned to Rosie with a frown. “Are you short-handed?”

  “Yes, Ken,” she said, sending him a frustrated glance. “You laid off ten employees last month, so we’re very short-handed. You said we had to cut corners somewhere, and the easiest way to save money was to lay off employees.”

  “It’s also short-sighted. Good service is our best value to our customers, and the best way to steal customers from other stores. Let me look at the finances and we’ll see about calling them back to work.”

  Rosie nodded, tight lipped. Evidently she didn’t like what he’d said for some reason. Well, tough cookies. If he was the manager, he outranked her, so what he thought was what counted. He obviously hadn’t forgotten everything he knew about business. Or was he only using common sense?

  He had to squint to read a price tag and frowned, then he glanced at the overhead fluorescent lights and stared in surprise. “Why is every other light not working?”

  Rosie frowned and snapped, “They work fine. They’re just turned off to save electricity.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you ordered them turned off, Ken.”

  He stared at her in shock, then bit out, “That’s crazy. It’s too dark in here. Good lighting is important. Have them turned back on immediately.”

  “By all means.” Rosie stepped over to the nearest employee and gave the order. The man shrugged, sent Ken a curious look and hurried off to obey.

  They reached the back stairway and climbed it to the office area. That section of the store had two floors with the offices over the storage and freight receiving rooms.

  Karen and Harry were busily at work. Unlike the floor employees, they both seemed more than a little disconcerted when he didn’t remember them and she had to introduce them to him.

  “So, are you supposed to get your memory back?” Harry asked gruffly.

  “Yes,” he returned, trying to sound confident.

  “They think so,” Rosie said at almost the same time. He frowned at her.

  “But how can you work if you don’t remember stuff, Ken?” Harry asked belligerently.

  “I remember most of my education,” he told Harry. “I’m sure I can figure out the rest. And you guys can help me with any information I need, can’t you?

  Harry nodded reluctantly.

  “We’ll play it by ear, Harry,” Rosie said firmly. “In the meantime, we’ll carry on as always.”

  “Sure.” Harry shrugged. He listened as Rosie relayed the change in lighting he’d ordered, gave Ken a doubtful look, then went downstairs to the floor where he usually spent most of his days.

  They watched Harry leave and Rosie sighed, then turned to Ken. “Your office is in here, next to mine.” She led the way into his office and paused just inside.

  He walked in and looked around the
very neat, carpeted office. It was nicely furnished with an expensive-looking desk with a desktop computer, matching wooden file cabinets, bookcases and a leather chair. A picture window looked out over the large parking lot and an open door led to a private bathroom. Folding doors apparently hid closets or more storage space.

  Why was no expense spared here, when she’d said they needed to cut expenses? Or had this office been furnished in better times? He needed to get a handle on their finances before he complained or changed too much.

  “Do you have the latest financial reports?”

  Rosie shook her head. “That’s what you were working on the past couple of weeks, Ken. Your Uncle Lester at Headquarters in Chicago has been calling almost daily, demanding them.”

  He looked at her incredulously. “And I didn’t have them done on time? Why not? Was there some special reason?” With computers, how long could it take to put together a quarterly report? When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Wasn’t the information being regularly and properly entered into the computer?”

  She shrugged and looked away. She couldn’t very well tell him she thought he’d been stalling, could she? “I’m not sure. You always enter the information yourself, Ken. You said you were having computer problems. That’s why Lester was sending us a computer expert to help solve them.”

  “So what did the computer expert say?”

  “He hasn’t arrived yet. Maybe he will, today.”

  He sat down at the computer on his desk, and turned it on. “Could someone bring me some coffee? I think I’ll spend some time here and see what I can find out. Go ahead with your own work as usual.”

  “Sure. Would you like anything else?”

  “Get me a copy of the last financial statement you do have.”

  “Right away, Ken. And you need to sign some checks. There are some overdue bills we really need to pay.”

  He frowned. “So why don’t you?”

  She smiled wryly. “I only do the payroll. All the other checks require your signature. You said we were too short of cash to pay these bills last week.”

  He swallowed. Things must be in pretty bad shape around here if he’d been letting bills become overdue. “Have we been ordering more stock than usual?”

  “No; in fact, you told Harry to cut back to only replacing the best-selling items, so our stock is pretty low right now.”

  “I see. Well, bring me those reports and I’ll see what I can figure out.” Low inventory? Overdue bills? What was going on here? If the inventory was dropping, cash on hand should be up, not down. Where was the money? Had they been over-extended to start with?

  Rosie brought the coffee and the bills and financial statement. “Buzz me on the intercom if you need anything else,” she said, turning to leave.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She turned back, a questioning look on her face. God, she was pretty. All that long, silky blonde hair and those parted, full red lips that looked like they were waiting for a kiss. What was he thinking? If he wasn’t careful their engagement would be on again. “Remind me how this intercom works,” he said.

  “Of course.” She moved to stand beside him and her sweet floral scent assailed him. He tried to pay attention as she showed him how to contact her and Karen on his intercom.

  “Thanks,” he said and breathed a sigh of relief as she left him alone.

  He turned to the papers on his desk. He’d better keep his mind on business, not on her lithe, curvy figure.

  Kirk studied the last profit and loss statement she’d given him. He might not have remembered how the intercom worked, but he was thankful that his ability to make sense of business numbers was still intact.

  This Profit and Loss statement made little sense, however. It consistently showed a loss, even though their sales were very good and payroll was stingy, to say the least. Some costs seemed way out of line. Some payments were similar in amounts, but listed as being made to different companies.

  Kirk opened the financial files on his computer, hoping for more recent information. Using the same password that had worked at his home computer, he immediately got inside the program. But after an hour or so, he still couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

  He punched the intercom. “Rosie, can you bring me the last month’s sales figures?”

  “Aren’t they on your computer?”

  “No, they aren’t.”

  “That’s odd. I’m sure I gave them to you. I turn them in every Monday for the previous week. I’ll make copies from my computer and bring them in a few minutes.”

  Soon she appeared and handed him a zip disk.

  “Stay and answer a few questions, please.”

  “If I can.” She settled into the chair across from him and crossed her legs. He swallowed, trying not to notice the neat line of her ankle or the lovely way her foot arched in her navy high heeled pumps. He was not attracted to her; it was just his hormones going wild. After all, he hadn’t had a woman in his bed for ages.

  That thought brought him up short. How did he know that? If they’d been engaged, maybe Rosie had been the last woman in his bed? That thought sent heat racing along his veins. Surely he’d remember if he’d made love to her? Damn it, why couldn’t he remember?

  “How can I help?” She was staring at him questioningly. He forced his mind back to the business at hand.

  “Tell me about the business,” he instructed.

  She raised an eyebrow. “It’s a pretty straightforward retail operation. We buy building materials in quantity and at wholesale prices from wholesalers and the companies that make the products and sell them at a good profit to individuals doing home repair projects and to small builders.”

  “We usually make a profit?”

  “Of course. We have a healthy profit margin. Latham is one of the top companies in our field. We’re good at what we do. In fact, we’re the best.”

  “I see.” Yet the P & L showed a loss. Why?

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “Can you name our suppliers? Our biggest customers?”

  “Maybe not all of them without looking at invoices, but most of them.”

  “I’d like a list, please.”

  “Sure. I’ll make one up right away. Are you sure you’re feeling up to this, Ken? You’re still looking too pale.”

  “I’m fine. Though I am getting hungry and it’s past time for lunch. Let’s discuss it over some food.”

  “Fine.”

  They told Karen they’d be back later and walked down the stairs.

  Rosie eyed Ken. He was acting a little strange, not at all like himself. “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t care. Is there a burger joint nearby? Or wherever you usually go is fine.”

  Rosie almost missed the last step. She grabbed for the handrail, trying to regain her footing.

  He caught her arm and steadied her. “Careful. Are you okay?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She straightened and stared at him. “Did you say you want to go to a burger joint?”

  “Sure, I thought a hamburger and fries sounded good. But whatever you want is fine with me. I’m not fussy.”

  “That’s news to me,” she muttered. Then, realizing several nearby employees were listening, she continued out the side door to the parking lot.

  “What?”

  “Uh, nothing. There’s a little family place that makes great burgers in the next block. Why don’t we walk?”

  “Okay.”

  She took him to the little coffee shop where she often had lunch when she was alone.

  “This okay?” she asked nervously. Ken usually detested “greasy spoons” as he called them. But today he only nodded as he looked around curiously, so she tried to relax.

  He’d said he had questions to ask, so she chose a back booth where they could talk business in private.

  A middle aged waitress appeared and asked, “Your usual, Rosie?” She nodded.

  He ordered coffee and a burger with fries.
The waitress wrote it down and disappeared.

  “You come here often enough that she knows what you usually order?”

  Rosie shrugged. “It’s close to the office, and I often eat alone or with Gloria, if she’s free.”

  “Gloria?”

  She smiled. “Gloria Haverson is a long-time friend. She works as a legal secretary just down the street from here.” And doesn’t like you a bit, she thought to herself. She’ll probably cheer when I tell her the wedding’s off.

  “Have I met this Gloria?”

  “Yes, but you two don’t hit it off.”

  “Any special reason?”

  She shrugged. The waitress appeared with large glasses of ice water and poured their coffee.

  Rosie frowned. “Are you sure you want more coffee?”

  “Why not? I usually drink it all day long.”

  “Since when?”

  He stared at her. “I don’t know. But I’m sure I do. Don’t I?”

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t. You always say more than one cup in the morning irritates your ulcer.”

  His jaw dropped. “I have an ulcer?”

  She nodded. He looked as though he didn’t believe her.

  “How does an ulcer affect a person?”

  “I’m not sure. You’ve said it makes your stomach hurt. Then you chew lots of antacid pills.”

  He picked up his coffee and drank. “Well, then, until it starts hurting, I’m going to enjoy my favorite drink.”

  She laughed. “Suit yourself.”

  “Tell me about the business and our suppliers.”

  The waitress brought their food. To her amazement he began devouring the hamburger and fries with gusto instead of his usual finicky table manners. She was beginning to believe the mugging had affected his whole personality.

  For the next hour, she talked in detail about their business. He asked more questions in that hour than she could remember him asking in the past two years she’d been working for him. How odd. But then, the old Ken knew this stuff. Now he’d forgotten it all because of the attack. So, she supposed it was natural for him to try to replace that knowledge by asking her questions.