by SUE FINEMAN
Luke talked about Bernie and the other businesses his corporation invested in. Maybe she’d had him pegged wrong. Maybe what she thought was arrogance was simply self-confidence. If he helped Bernie design this place, he obviously knew what he was doing.
So Luke Windsor had money to invest. Why would he want to buy into a place like Queenie’s Café? And that old motel needed so much work, it probably wasn’t worth anything. So what did this guy really want from her? Why would a man like this waste his time on a worn-out place like Queenie’s Café and the King of the Road Motel?
Or on Laura Whitfield?
Chapter Four
Luke dropped Laura off at the store in Vero Beach so she could get her car and arranged to meet her at the motel later that afternoon. He wasn’t sure he’d be interested in getting involved with the motel, but he’d checked the property records after his visit to the café and discovered both businesses were on the same piece of property. If he decided to go into business with Laura, it was all or none.
He drove to Kingston and turned off the highway at Queenie’s Café. Every time he came here, he was struck by the pathetic condition of the café and the King of the Road Motel. The patched roofs, faded paint, and weeds growing through the asphalt gave it the look of poverty. Why had Laura’s parents let it get so rundown? Didn’t they know their business would be better if they maintained the place? Nobody in their right mind would pay money to stay here when there were decent motels a few miles away.
Laura met him at the motel office. “Pretty grim, isn’t it?”
That was a good word for it. Grim. “Is anyone staying here now?”
“Just the regulars. Their rooms are in the back.”
“How many?”
“With Florence gone, there’s just three. Cindy is a working girl, if you know what I mean, and the other two can’t afford to live anywhere else. Rusty used to wash dishes for my mother in the café. He’s staying with his family in Orlando for a few days. As soon as I can afford it, I’ll put him back to work. Morris used to help my father with the motel, sweeping up and washing windows, and he helps with the landscaping, what there is of it. He likes flowers. I wish I could afford to put flowers around the café, but that’s way down on my list.”
It wasn’t the first time Luke wondered why she was bothering to open the café. A young, attractive woman like Laura Whitfield who didn’t have anyone to support but herself would be better off in Jacksonville or Melbourne or West Palm Beach, where she could work in a decent job, find a boyfriend, and live well without working herself to death in this dump. Or maybe she already had a boyfriend in Kingston. There had to be something keeping her in this place. Something besides these businesses.
She grabbed a handful of keys. “We have thirty rooms, plus my apartment.”
Luke inspected several rooms. The bathrooms were stained with mold, the carpets, bedspreads and drapes looked as though they hadn’t been replaced in years, and the furniture looked beat to death. The air-conditioners were so old he wasn’t sure they worked at all, and the walls needed a coat of paint. There was no way she’d turn a profit without some major work and expense.
He hated to tell her, but she already knew. Anyone with eyes could see it wasn’t worth much as a motel. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to plow too much money into this, Laura. There are dozens of motels in this general area, and you’d never be able to compete. You could tear it down and start over, but it would cost you more than you could bring in.”
“I know. I don’t know how Dad kept it open so long.”
He cocked his head and looked at Laura, wondering what she’d think of a drastic change. “What would you think about turning it into apartments? You’d have fewer vacancies, a steady income, and you wouldn’t have to hire someone to clean.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Hire someone to clean?”
So she’d done it herself, probably for nothing. Why didn’t that surprise him?
She waved her hand at the room they stood in. “What would you do to make this an apartment?”
“Combine two rooms. Add a big closet and fix up the bathroom on the bedroom side. On the other side, replace the bathroom with a little kitchen. The plumbing is already there, so it shouldn’t take much. Without the beds, there’s room for a sitting area and eating area. The apartments should be big enough for a single person or a couple.” It couldn’t be any worse than some of the dumps he and his mother had lived in when he was a kid, and it would be better than some of the low income housing available now.
She chewed on her bottom lip as her brows knit in concentration. “What would that cost?”
“I’ll have to send a contractor by to give us an estimate. We need to know what we can do, what our options are, if any, and then we’ll see how much it’ll cost.”
“Are you still interested in helping me with financing?”
“For a percentage of the business. We’ll need an appraisal and an estimate of the remodel costs before I can tell you how big a percentage.”
“What if I don’t agree?”
He opened his hands. “Then we won’t do it.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. That sounds fair. While you have your contractor here, you might as well get an estimate on a new roof for the café. I can’t believe those patches will last much longer.”
Luke gazed at Laura and wondered what he was really doing here. This old motel wasn’t the kind of thing he’d normally invest in, yet here he was, discussing the possibilities. The café had potential, but he didn’t know much about motels and apartments. What if he was wrong? What if she agreed to let him turn the motel into apartments and it didn’t work? But why wouldn’t it work? There weren’t many apartments in Kingston, just a couple of duplexes and some rusty old trailers people rented out to the snowbirds every winter. It was an excellent location, easy commuting distance to both Melbourne and Vero Beach. Even if the apartments weren’t all rented year-round, they’d have to bring in more money than the motel.
<>
The next day, Greg Totino, King County Health Department Inspector, paid another visit to the café. He checked off everything on his list. “Miss Whitfield, you passed with flying colors. I can’t believe you got that stove clean. I was sure you’d have to replace it.”
He signed the form and gave her a copy. “You can open again as soon as you get the license in your own name.”
Laura sighed with relief. Another major obstacle out of the way. She still had a few to overcome. The biggest, of course, was the lack of money.
As soon as the man left, she went out and applied for the license. That took most of her money, but she couldn’t run a business without a license. She stopped at the hardware store on her way home to buy paint for the dining area. For the walls, she chose a shade of mauve so pale the color barely showed at all. She’d seen it at a friend’s house years ago and loved the way it seemed to change color with the light. It would give the room a slight glow when the sun hit it just right, and it would look nice with the new carpet and window shades she’d picked out.
She was struggling with the ladder, dragging it from the motel storeroom to the café, when a kid wearing baggy clothes wandered into the parking lot. Runaway? “Hi. Something I can do for you?”
“I’m lookin’ for a job,” said the girl.
Laura laughed. “Have you ever come to the wrong place. I can’t even afford to pay myself.”
“You own this place?”
“Yeah.” The girl, somewhere between the ages of twelve and sixteen, looked tired and hungry. Laura didn’t have much, but she couldn’t send this kid on her way without something to eat. “Are you hungry?”
The kid smiled. “Yeah, starving, but I don’t have any money.”
Laura hadn’t been grocery shopping in over two weeks. She’d filled her gas tank instead of buying food. There should be soup and crackers in the pantry. It wasn’t much, but they wouldn’t starve.
“I�
�m Laura. What’s your name?”
“Ivy.”
“Oh, that’s pretty.”
She shrugged. “I guess. My brother calls me Poison Ivy.”
Laura lugged the ladder to the door of the café and Ivy held the door open for her. “Where you from, Ivy?”
“Up north.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
Laura dragged the ladder into the dining area. “If I’m going to feed you, the least you can do is tell me the truth.”
“Sixteen. I’m sixteen. My folks threw me out because I’m pregnant.”
That explained the baggy clothes. Poor kid. “Do you have anyplace to go, relatives you can stay with?”
“No.” Ivy’s answer came out in a whisper.
Laura tried not to stare as she opened the ladder in the corner of the dining area. “How long ago did you leave home?”
“Last week. My dad told me I couldn’t ever come back, and my mother doesn’t want her friends to know. She told everyone I went away to school.”
Laura didn’t know whether to believe her or not. The kid looked younger than sixteen. Still, she couldn’t let the girl starve. “Where you headed?”
“Anywhere. Nowhere.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. If you’ll help me paint I’ll give you a room to sleep in tonight. I can’t pay you anything. I can’t even open this place until I get a loan.”
Ivy’s face lit up. “If you’ll let me stay, you don’t have to pay me.”
“There’s just one condition. You have to call home. You don’t have to tell them where you are, just let them know you’re all right and have a safe place to stay for a day or two.”
“Okay.”
Laura took Ivy to the motel office, found a couple of her father’s old shirts to wear while they painted, and handed Ivy a key. “Room five, right in front. I can’t afford to hire anyone to clean, so that’s up to you. The laundry is in the breezeway behind the office. Cleaning supplies in the storeroom by the laundry.”
The tired, heavy look in Ivy’s eyes was gone. “Thanks.”
“Get settled and come back here.” Taking in a strange kid could bring trouble, but Laura couldn’t turn her away when she had all those empty rooms. How could parents throw a kid out when she needed them the most?
There wasn’t much food left, but Laura found a can of soup, a box of crackers, and some cheese for lunch.
Before they got the tables and chairs moved out of the way to start painting, Luke walked in. He looked at the can of paint and screwed up his face. “Pink suede? You’re painting this place pink?”
Laura’s hands flew to her hips. “If you don’t like it, tough. It’s my café, not yours.”
Ignoring her remark, he grabbed a can of white ceiling paint. “We’ll start with this.”
They worked together the rest of the afternoon. Ivy got down on the floor and painted the lower wall and baseboards, while Laura painted around the windows and the upper walls, as high as she could reach. Luke worked on the ceiling and the upper walls.
The ceiling looked like it hadn’t been painted since the building was new. Laura had cleaned it the best she could the day Florence brought all those people to help, but cleaning wasn’t enough. She could scrub for a month, but the ceiling wouldn’t be white again without paint.
“I wish we had some music,” said Ivy. “A radio or CD player or something.”
“A CD player wouldn’t do any good without CD’s,” said Laura.
“I had an old boom box with a cassette player at home, but it was too heavy to carry.”
Luke said, “I have one of those at home somewhere. I’ll bring it tomorrow. Do you have any cassettes, Laura?”
“I found an old Elvis tape in Queenie’s room the other day, but that’s it.”
Ivy looked up. “If she had a tape, she must have had something to play it on.”
“Nope. I looked.”
“They why did she keep the tape?” asked Luke.
“I have no idea.” But Laura was beginning to wonder if that really was an Elvis tape she found. That tape had been hidden, taped to the back of a drawer. Why would Queenie hide an Elvis tape?
They were nearly finished with the first coat of paint when they ran out. Laura groaned. “I was so sure I had enough.” She’d bought two gallons of wall paint, but these old plaster walls soaked it up.
The paint had dried on the far wall, but she could still see the scuff marks and ketchup stains. It needed another coat, but she didn’t have enough money to buy more paint and groceries, too. “Maybe the bank will come through with a loan.”
“I’ll buy you another gallon of paint,” said Luke.
“You mean loan me enough to buy more paint?”
“Okay, I’ll loan you the money. I’m hungry. How about a pizza? My treat.”
Ivy’s eyes lit up. “Mmm, that sounds good.”
While Ivy and Laura went to their rooms to clean up, Luke washed the brushes and scrubbed the paint off himself. He had white freckles all over his face from painting the ceiling.
He was ready to go when Laura and Ivy came back. Ivy cleaned up nice. She had dark blond hair, very long and straight, big brown eyes, and dimples. Cute kid.
Laura was pretty, especially when she smiled. Her eyes seemed to change color depending on her mood. At times, they were blue-gray and sparkling and at other times, they were as dark as angry thunder clouds. When she wore blue, her eyes were more blue, and if she wore green, they looked green. Interesting. Everything about her was interesting, but it was her independent streak that held his attention. She was too young to own her own businesses and deal with the problems inherent with neglected properties, yet she was determined to make a success of the café.
What was her father thinking to leave her alone with this mess? Why didn’t he stay and help her get things under control?
Luke was curious about the kid, but he didn’t ask any questions until after they ate and returned to the motel. Ivy thanked him and disappeared into her room, and Luke and Laura sat in his truck, talking. “Laura, where did she come from?”
“I have no idea. She said her parents threw her out because she was pregnant.”
“My grandparents threw my mother out for the same reason. She was seventeen.”
“Ivy says she’s sixteen, but I doubt she’s that old. She looked so tired and hungry, I couldn’t turn her away. I told her she could help me in exchange for a room.”
“Be careful, Laura. She looks young and innocent, but you don’t know this kid.”
“There’s nothing here for her to take, Luke. Nothing. Maybe, if she could carry a television, but they’re all about shot, so it wouldn’t be worth the trouble. I have no money, so that’s definitely not a problem.”
He twisted to face her. “You don’t have any money?”
She shook her head. “I filled my car today. If one of those banks doesn’t come through soon—”
Luke reached for his wallet.
Laura held up her hand. “I can’t take your money.”
“It’s a personal loan. Pay me back when you can.”
She slowly shook her head. “I’m a poor risk, Luke. I have no source of income.”
“Yet you’re feeding a strange kid. Take it.” He folded her hand over two hundred dollars. “That’s all I have with me today, but I’ll give you enough cash to open the café and get started. Pay it back when you can. I remember eating popcorn for dinner when I was a kid. Mom didn’t make much some weeks. She brought home leftovers when there were any, but it wasn’t something we could count on.”
“But your father owns all those carpet stores.”
He draped his left arm over the steering wheel. “Laura, I didn’t even know who my father was until my mother won all that money in the lottery four years ago. I’m just getting to know him.”
Her eyes widened. “Lottery?”
“Sixteen millio
n. She won it the year I graduated from college. We use some of it to invest in small businesses, mostly restaurants.”
“Like Bernie’s Place?”
“That’s right. Our share of the profits from Bernie’s Place helps us invest in other places, like Queenie’s Café.”
The corners of her eyes turned up slightly when she smiled. “So I’m not just a charity case?”
“This is a business, not a charity. If I didn’t think you’d make a profit, I wouldn’t be interested.” He put his hand over hers. “Look, Laura. If I decide I don’t want a piece of your business, I’ll make a personal loan for whatever you need for start-up expenses for the café. Queenie’s Café has a lot of potential. It wouldn’t take much to turn it into a very successful business. There’s no other place to eat in this town except the pizza place.”
Laura Whitfield was a proud young woman. He admired her spunk and determination, but that stubborn pride was something else. “If you want to do this on your own, I’ll loan you as much as you need for the café, just like a bank, but I want you to open your eyes and consider the possibilities. Try to picture what this place could be. If you had enough money to do anything you wanted, what would it be?”
“You mean besides the obvious, fix up the buildings, resurface the parking lot, replace the roofs, paint, landscape, and maybe buy new furniture?”
“Aw, come on, Laura,” he said on a groan. “You can dream bigger than that.”
A smile played with the corners of her mouth. “Okay. I’d love to have a sunroom on the side by the street, something to catch the morning sun and brighten the place.”
“What would it look like?”
“I’d have green plants in the corners and a wrap-around planter outside, so you could see the flowers through the windows.” Her eyes lit with excitement as she talked.
“Sounds nice. How many tables would it hold?”
“Maybe four or five small ones.” The excitement left her eyes as reality invaded her dream. “I’ll never have enough business for that.”
“Laura, you need to learn how to dream.”