by Mary Monroe
“Just the beautiful ones.” He pursed his lips and shifted his eyes like he was processing some information in his head. “And that’s not too often. This is the kind of place that attracts mostly water buffalo. Last night a herd coming from a bingo game stampeded this place.” He laughed. I didn’t.
“Oh,” I said, with my lips stiff and my eyes narrowed.
“Not that I’m making fun of women in that category!” He held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m just trying to make you smile, because you look so cute when you do. You seem like the kind of lady who can appreciate a good joke.”
“I am. You got one?”
He gave me a dry look; then he laughed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t raised to make fun of people, especially my sisters. Now what was that you were saying about us doing business?”
“I’d like to consider your restaurant for some catering for my office,” I said nervously. I knew that if I was going to do business with this man, I had to respond to him in a businesslike manner. No matter how frivolous he was behaving.
“And we’ll do it with a smile,” he announced, grinning. “How did you hear about me?”
“Rhoda O’Toole is one of your regular clients. And she’s anxious to get that free meal for referring me.”
“Bless her heart. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, dipping his head so that he had to buck his eyes to look at me. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and that little gesture made him look downright cute, too.
I sniffed and tilted my head. I was finally at a place where it gave me a great deal of pride to identify myself. “I’m Annette Davis. I am a manager at Mizelle’s Collection Agency. Earlier today I made my employees an offer they couldn’t refuse.”
“Oh? I hope it includes my services on a regular basis,” Louis said, with a hopeful look on his face. He turned his head to the side and cupped his ear. He had small hands and small ears, not a good sign. According to Rhoda that meant a small dick. I couldn’t believe what I was thinking! Just because this man had paid me some attention and flirted with me so blatantly, I had the nerve to be fantasizing about his dick. I forced myself not to look at his feet to see if they were small, too.
“It could.” I grinned. “Uh, I don’t know about setting up a contract yet, though. I thought I’d have a couple of events, and if my people like your food, we’ll go from there. There are a couple of other places I’d like to consider, too,” I lied. I had already made up my mind. I wanted to work with Louis, but I didn’t want him to know that yet. I wanted to get as good a deal as I could.
“Let me do this for you. How many folks are we talking about?”
“Well, including myself, I have a staff of fourteen full-time employees. There are two boys who work in the mail room, but they only work a couple of hours in the morning and a couple in the afternoon. My boss drops in from time to time.”
“So roughly speaking, we’re talking about a nice-size party,” Louis said. He glanced around and paused. “Would you be more comfortable discussing this in my office?”
I was glad that he was looking and acting more businesslike now, but I was still leery of him. There was no telling how he would behave if he got me in his office. I was not the smartest woman in the world, but I could tell that this man wanted more from me than a catering agreement.
CHAPTER 18
“I don’t think that discussing this in your office is necessary.” I paused and exhaled. “But thanks for the offer.”
Had I been just a little more disgusted with my husband, I would have followed Louis to his office with bells on. His attention had intrigued me, and that had caused me to let my defenses down. But the fact of the matter was that I needed some attention. And, without even trying, I had caught the eye of a young, smart man with the looks of a movie star.
“Are you afraid I might bite?” He leered at me.
“I think you’re getting close to that speed limit,” I warned.
“Guilty as charged!” he said, his hands in the air as if he was a guest on COPS.
“I have to get home soon. Do you have a business card? I can call you up and arrange an appointment in the next few days.”
“I don’t have my business cards yet, but you can call me at the number on the menu,” he said, nodding toward the menu that he had placed in my hand. “What is the best day for you and your employees?”
“Huh? Oh. First of all, I have to let you know that everything depends on the budget I can get my boss to approve.”
“Hmm.” His face dropped like a lead balloon. “So this is not a sure thing?”
“I’m not sure yet. Like I just said, everything depends on the budget that I can get approved.”
I had worked out a tentative agreement with Mr. Mizelle and my employees just before I’d left work. We would use the funds for our Christmas cash bonus to each employee, which was taxable, our holiday celebrations—in addition to the regular major national holidays, we had office parties to celebrate everything from St. Patrick’s Day to Flag Day—and our annual company picnic to cover the cost of a weekly feast, to be catered by Louis Baines—or some other caterer, should his services not satisfy our needs and palates. This was also information that I felt I didn’t need to reveal to Louis yet. I was convinced that if I did, it would weaken my leverage.
“Is there anything I can do to help you make up your mind?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know your prices yet. I don’t know anything about your dependability and service. And, I hate to say this, I don’t know the quality of your selections. Now the prawns were good, but that’s not all we would be ordering. The bottom line is, I can’t commit to anything, or approach my boss, until I compare you with some of the other caterers that I’m considering.” Because of Rhoda’s glowing recommendation, I had not approached any other caterers before Louis. And now I knew I wouldn’t. I was dead meat as soon as I’d tasted those fried shrimp.
However, I had to admit that Louis’s good looks and aggressive approach had a lot to do with my decision, too. I didn’t want to reveal that information to him. He didn’t need to know what a pushover I was. I couldn’t tell if he already had a big head; most men who looked like him did. His good looks and business ownership were more than enough to give him a head the size of a watermelon. I didn’t want to contribute to it.
The cost of the weekly catering service didn’t matter. I had already turned over that stone. My boss, Mr. Mizelle, had agreed to pay the difference, if it was necessary. “This is a splendid incentive, Annette! I support you wholeheartedly. All for the sake of productivity. If this gets our folks to improve their attendance and not resign after a few bad experiences with some of our debtors, we’ll meet our goals more frequently,” he had told me through his birdlike lips.
Louis coughed to get my attention back. “I can assure you, I will offer you an arrangement that will be within your budget.” The fact that he seemed somewhat desperate concerned me, too. I didn’t want to do business with him out of pity. I did not make it to a manager’s position by working with people because I felt sorry for them.
“We’ll see. Anyway, I was thinking about setting up something on a regular basis, like lunch every other Monday, to begin with. Then, if things work out, maybe we’ll do it every Monday. Or if you make me an offer I can’t refuse, we can start out by doing it every Monday for a few months on a trial basis. If things go well, we’ll do something more permanent, like my friend Rhoda does. She told me that she’s committed for a whole year.”
“That’s right. And she won’t regret it. Let’s focus on you and your needs now. How about this coming Monday? Just tell me what you want and what time you want it delivered. I already know your work address. Uh…several of my irresponsible friends have received a few lovely calls from your collection agency.” This seemed to embarrass him. He gave me an uncomfortable look. “I want you to know right now that I don’t condone people running out on their financial obligations. That’s why I don’t offer credit or take
checks or credit cards from my friends.”
“I know exactly what you mean. I have friends like that, too,” I admitted. We both laughed. “Now, if you don’t mind, can we get back to what you can do for me this Monday?”
“Oh? You’ll go for it on a trial basis?”
I nodded. “On a trial basis,” I agreed.
“We also set up everything and do all the serving. That part is optional, and there’s no charge for it.”
“Like I told you, I can’t commit to anything definite just yet. I need to…to, uh, think about this a little more. Let me sleep on it, and I’ll call you tomorrow. How is that?”
“That’s fine if that’s what you want. But this Monday will be a complimentary meal….”
I let out a mild gasp. “A complimentary meal for my whole staff? What a nice surprise!” This man was after my own heart, and at the rate he was going, he’d have me in his hip pocket in no time.
He nodded. “And we’ll include enough for the two boys in the mail room, and your boss, in case he shows up. As a matter of fact, I will make sure that there are plenty leftovers for you and your staff to enjoy later.”
“That’s very nice of you. Do you do this for all your new customers?”
Louis looked at me for a long time before he responded. “Just the special ones,” he said. “The only thing is, I choose the meal.”
“Oh, I see.” I expected him to tell me that he would slap together a few trays with some cheese, crackers, salami, and bologna, or something along those lines. He surprised me again.
“I do a really nice Yankee pot roast, with smashed potatoes, green beans, and Hawaiian dinner rolls, and pecan pie for dessert.”
I had to look down for a moment to compose myself. “My stepdaddy called them smashed potatoes, too,” I said, getting misty-eyed. I had to blink hard to keep from shedding a tear or two. I had adored my stepdaddy.
“I’ll include enough for your stepdaddy, too.”
I looked down again. This time my gaze landed right on his feet. They were fairly large. I cleared my throat and quickly returned my attention to his face. “He passed some years ago,” I croaked.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. And I hope I didn’t upset you. Would you like a glass of water?”
“I’d rather have a glass of wine, if you serve it here,” I admitted, looking around for a bar.
“I don’t have a liquor license yet, but I’m working on it. If you’d really like a drink, there’s a cute little Irish place across the street—”
“Oh no,” I protested, holding my hand up. “I really do have to get home. But thanks, anyway.” I started to back toward the exit.
“What time do you want us to deliver on Monday?”
My jaw dropped. “Oh. Were you really serious about that complimentary meal for my whole staff?”
“Miss Davis, I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
I don’t know why I didn’t tell him then that I was a Mrs., not a Miss. It was obvious that he was attracted to me, and as much as I hated myself for it, I was attracted to him, too. “You can call me Annette,” I said stiffly.
“How about eleven thirty? We can set up and have everything ready by noon.”
“That’s fine,” I said, leaning against the door. His gaze lingered on my face until I opened the door and stumbled back out onto the sidewalk, breathing through my mouth.
He stood in the doorway and watched until I got in my car and drove off.
CHAPTER 19
Pee Wee was still laid out in his La-Z-Boy like a corpse about to be embalmed when I got home, and I had been gone for a couple of hours. I stood in the living-room doorway for a few minutes, just watching him. All I could do was shake my head and wonder what I had done to deserve this mess of a husband that I now had on my hands.
But he was my mess, and I had to make the best of the situation. After all, I did still love him.
For some reason, Pee Wee was not snoring. That concerned me right away. I kicked off my shoes and padded across the floor to make sure he was still alive. I was satisfied to see that his chest was moving and that he had a pulse.
There was a test pattern on the TV screen, so I had no idea what he had been watching. A blanket covered him up to his neck, which meant that in his chair was where he planned to spend the night. And that was all right with me.
I took a quick shower and got into bed, but before I turned out the lights, I called Rhoda.
“How come you didn’t tell me how cute that caterer was?” I demanded, my head propped up on three pillows.
“I didn’t think it was important. So you did go by there?”
“Yes, I did. The food was wonderful. Your boy Louis, he sure knows how to cut a deal. He made me an incredible offer.”
“Oh? And what offer is that?”
“He’s preparing a complimentary meal for me and my entire staff for Monday. Yankee pot roast with all the trimmings. I’ll wait until next week to tell him, but I’m going to work out a weekly deal with him. On a trial basis for a couple of weeks, though. I don’t want to commit to something I might regret.”
“Oh, he’s good. The man really knows how to work on a woman, all right. That pot roast screams. That’s one dish that he really puts his foot in! It’s one of his best meals. That’s how he wooed me into that twelve-month contract. But it’s a hell of a contract. If I default, I still have to pay him for the remainin’ months. Not that I plan on lettin’ him go—with his sexy self.”
“And that’s another thing.” I paused and looked toward the door. “He is a very sexy man, and I almost made a complete fool out of myself, skinning and grinning in his face like a schoolgirl.” I laughed, but then I got real serious. “He’s kind of young, though.”
“Why do you care how young he is?”
“Nothing. I just thought I’d mention it. And he seemed a little…countrified. He called mashed potatoes, smashed potatoes. That makes a person sound so dumb.”
“He’s the kind of man that a woman who already has everything needs. Young, dumb, and full of cum.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Just thought I’d mention it.”
“I’m going to call him up tomorrow. The only thing is, I don’t want to commit to a yearlong contract, like you did. I’ll try him out for a few weeks, and if it works out, maybe I’ll agree to something more permanent.”
I slept like a baby that night. Pee Wee was gone by the time I made it downstairs the next morning. Just as I was about to leave the house, wearing a yellow silk scarf around my neck, which my daughter had given to me for Mother’s Day, and a pair of navy blue slacks with a yellow blouse, Rhoda called. She rarely called me this early in the morning, and when she did, something was usually wrong. I braced myself.
“I just received a disturbin’ phone call from New Orleans,” she reported, her voice weak and edgy.
“Oh. I hope it’s nothing too serious,” I replied hoarsely. The last thing I needed to hear was bad news about somebody I cared about.
Rhoda’s mother was a major hypochondriac. If you believed that woman, she’d been afflicted with almost every ailment in the book, and with a few that were not in the book. When I used to visit Rhoda when we were kids, her mother was always in a nightgown. Every single day she swallowed pills like candy and ran from one doctor to another, and she had already planned her own funeral. Rhoda’s parents had moved to New Orleans years ago so her mother could be closer to her family and “better doctors.” Since New Orleans was an hour behind Ohio, a call from somebody back there so early in the morning had to be bad news.
“Is it your mother?” I asked. I couldn’t think of anything left for her mother to claim she had. “Is she…gone?”
“No, my mother’s fine. It’s nothin’ like that.”
It was obvious that Rhoda was stalling. I didn’t want to pressure her or sound impatient, so I just remained silent.
“It’s Jade,” she said finally. It sounded like the life
was slowly leaving her voice.
I knew that if it had anything to do with Jade, it had to be bad. Either she had finally killed somebody—like mother, like daughter—or somebody had finally killed her. Despite my feelings toward that child, I hoped that it was neither. I had come to the conclusion that Jade was beyond redemption, but as long as I didn’t have to deal with her, I could live with that assessment. It was painful for me to have such feelings toward someone that I had once adored, but that was what it had come to.
“Oh. What did she do this time?” As soon as I said that, I cringed. For one thing, it sounded unreasonably harsh, and the last thing Rhoda needed when it came to that girl was more aggravation. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Rhoda,” I said quickly.
“Yes, you did. And you know I don’t blame you,” she said in a distant voice.
“Is Jade in trouble?”
“She is trouble, Annette,” Rhoda announced. It almost felt like she was talking about somebody we’d seen featured on America’s Most Wanted. “If anybody knows that, it’s you.” Rhoda paused and let out something that sounded like a cross between a sniff and a snort. “I just wanted you to know that she’s coming home. She hates New Orleans. Daddy called me up to break the news this mornin’.”
“Is she coming to visit?” I asked hopefully.
“I wish I could say that that was the case, but I can’t. She’s comin’ to stay. She’s even shipped some of her things back already. I found that out when the UPS truck stopped here yesterday evenin’, while we were havin’ dinner. But I didn’t know what she was up to until I got the call from Daddy this mornin’. I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do with that girl. She flunked out of college and spends most of her time partyin’ and drivin’ my parents crazy. They can’t handle her anymore.”