by Lee Hollis
“You just can’t buy this kind of publicity. It’s all about the buzz, Hayley. Please don’t tell me you’re going to open up a catering business to compete with me or I’ll have a heart attack right here on the spot.”
“No, Garth. I can barely get my column in on time these days, let alone think about opening a business.”
“Big sigh of relief. Although I may still have that heart attack, because my wife says I put too much butter in my dishes and that I am close to sharing type two diabetes stories with Paula Deen. Now, about you working for me—”
“As much as I need a second job, I just can’t right now—”
“Just two days. That’s all I need you for. Two days.”
“I really can’t—”
“I’ll pay you a thousand bucks.”
Hayley nearly choked. She grabbed her chest and sputtered and coughed until her throat finally cleared and she was able to speak. “A thousand bucks? For two days?”
“Yes.”
That much money would certainly make up for her lackluster work bonus. It would also go a long way in paying off that maxed-out credit card she had used at the Bangor Mall to buy her kids the Christmas presents on their lists.
“When were you thinking of having me start?”
“Today. Like right now.”
“Are you serious?”
“I have three parties I’m catering this weekend and I’m way behind. I haven’t even been able to think about Midnight Madness, and suddenly this morning I realized I have nothing to serve people who stop by my warehouse tomorrow night. So after reading the deluge of tweets singing your praises this morning, I got the idea to hire you to handle it.”
“But I worked all day cooking for the Christmas party after you bailed on me yesterday, and I was there very late cleaning up after everybody, and I’m exhausted—”
“Twelve hundred.”
Hayley’s mouth dropped open.
She had no idea she was even negotiating.
And then there was Aaron.
He finally texted her late last night, saying he wanted to see her, so she had invited him over for dinner tonight, which was why she was at the grocery store before work, picking up some veggies for a nice salad and some fresh tomatoes and garlic for a simple pasta dish. If she was cooking all day and night for Garth’s Midnight Madness spread tomorrow night, she would have to cancel.
“And I also have plans with Aaron, the man I’ve been seeing, and I really don’t want to cancel because a situation has arisen that I need to address with him, and, well, it’s personal and I don’t feel comfortable telling you—”
“Fifteen hundred.”
Oh. My. God.
“Okay, yes! I’ll do it! Just let me call my boss, Sal, and take a personal day and text Aaron to see if he’s okay with me postponing.”
“Great. We can shop together and I can tell you the kind of menu I’m thinking about, and then you can take the ingredients home and do all of the cooking in your own kitchen and bring it over to the warehouse tomorrow evening.”
Hayley was bubbling over with excitement. Suddenly the idea of pocketing fifteen hundred dollars for just two days’ work infused her tired bones with a renewed energy.
She knew Sal would be fine with her taking the day off. It was the week before Christmas and a slow time at the office. Plus she was ahead of schedule on all her office manager duties. Not to mention, Sal owed her for pulling off a memorable Christmas party. She could easily spend the rest of the day and night cooking and then punch in for half a day tomorrow before rushing home after work to heat up the food before Midnight Madness.
Aaron was not going to be so easy.
They still hadn’t discussed what went down in Lex Bansfield’s hospital room.
She grabbed her cell phone and began typing a text: Aaron, I am so sorry.
“Hayley! I need you over here pronto to help me pick out apples to roast for the Christmas ham!” Garth hollered from across the produce section.
Hayley kept typing as fast as she could: Have to cancel dinner tonight. Will call later to explain.
“Hayley!” Garth was red-faced and now screeching.
He didn’t like to be kept waiting.
Hayley hit send.
She prayed Aaron would understand.
And later she would give him fifteen hundred reasons why he should forgive her.
Hell, forget cooking him dinner.
She would treat him to a fancy meal at a five-star restaurant after this unexpected payday.
Chapter 10
The following morning as Hayley sat at her desk, she was downing coffee and slapping herself a couple of times to keep from nodding off to sleep. She was up cooking for Garth until four in the morning and only had managed to get three hours of sleep before her alarm clock buzzed and she was forced out of bed to get ready for work. She was operating on fumes after slaving over a hot stove for the Christmas party and Midnight Madness. But finally there was a light at the end of the tunnel. All she had to do was deliver her food to Garth’s warehouse after work and then go home and collapse into a coma.
It had been a particularly rough night and not just because she was chained to the kitchen whipping up dishes for Garth. She was feeling blue over a return text from Aaron acknowledging her canceling their dinner.
Okay.
Simple.
To the point.
No fuss.
No mess.
Still, it bugged her. It would’ve been easier if he wrote back an angry message: how he was pissed that she promised to cook dinner for him and then wound up disappointing him; how this was not the end of it and they were going to sit down and discuss why she canceled at the last minute, and why Missy Anne Higgins saw her smooching Lex Bansfield in his hospital room.
She desperately wanted a long, impassioned text from Aaron.
She wanted him to be infuriated.
Enraged.
That would mean on some level he wasn’t giving up on her.
But all she got was Okay.
And that frightened her. Because she didn’t want to lose him.
Hayley also had to deal with her drama queen daughter, Gemma, who was home rehearsing the role of the Virgin Mary for Reverend Staples’s Nativity pageant. Gemma made the mistake of asking her brother, Dustin, to run lines with her and he proceeded to make fun of her stiff acting; then all hell broke loose. Gemma was already nervous over the prospect of playing a leading role, and her brother’s teasing was only fueling her insecurities. So while rolling her walnut-size bourbon balls in coconut, Hayley also had to play referee with her kids.
Christmas was always one of Hayley’s favorite holidays, but this year she just wanted to hide under her bedcovers and wake up after New Year’s.
Hayley stood up and crossed to the coffeepot and poured herself another cup. She added a little sugar and milk and was stirring it with a spoon when the door to the office blew open and Bruce Linney charged inside. He shook off his coat, stomped the snow off his boots, and tossed the coat on the rack.
He never once glanced at Hayley.
“Good morning, Bruce,” Hayley chirped. “Feeling better?”
Bruce grunted a reply and headed to the back bull pen.
As he passed Hayley, she said, “Don’t you think it might be a good idea to talk about it?”
Bruce stopped, looking straight ahead. “Talk about what?”
“What happened at the Christmas party. I was going to bring it up yesterday, but I took a personal day.”
“I was out sick, so I wasn’t here anyway. But I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”
Hayley suspected as much.
He didn’t remember a thing.
“So you have no memory of being drunk and groping me in the copy room and trying to kiss me while you were wearing that ridiculous mistletoe hat?”
Bruce’s whole body tensed. “No.”
Hayley shrugged. “Okay.”
She was ab
out to let the whole thing go and let him off the hook.
But then Bruce had to go and open his mouth.
And when Bruce opened his mouth, he was always his own worst enemy.
“I don’t know what you think happened in that copy room, Hayley, but you and I both know you’re awfully fond of your cocktails too, and maybe you’re just remembering what you want to remember.”
Hayley stepped back, aghast. “Are you suggesting I’m making this up?”
“No. Maybe I got a little too friendly. It was a party. Everybody was drinking. I’m merely suggesting you may be embellishing the story just a tiny bit given how you feel about me.”
“How I feel about you?”
“Come on, Hayley, everybody knows you have a crush on me. Ever since we were in high school.”
“No, Bruce. Nobody knows that, because I don’t have a crush on you. I have the furthest thing from a crush on you. I have an anti-crush! I am repelled by you. And you do not get to tell me I’m embellishing what happened, because I’m not. I didn’t have a drop of punch the other night. I was stone-cold sober. Actually, I wish I had been drinking, so I wouldn’t have such a crystal clear memory of your sweaty hands on my ass and your puckered lips attacking my face!”
“Prove it,” Bruce spit out.
“She doesn’t have to,” Sal said, storming out of his office. “I can.”
Sal’s sudden presence surprised both of them.
Bruce suddenly clammed up as Sal held his iPhone in front of Bruce’s face.
There was a video of the party playing on the screen: reporters laughing and conversing; somebody’s kid sneaking some spiked punch.
“I thought it might be fun to record some of the party,” Sal said.
The video swung around toward the copy room, where there was a clear view of Bruce pinning Hayley up against the copier.
Bruce’s face blanched. It was all there for him to watch in horror:
Hayley ducking his kiss.
Bruce’s lips landing on the Xerox machine.
Hayley pressing the copy button to blind him so she could get away.
Hayley stopping at the door as Sal lowered the phone.
The camera aimed at the floor as Sal asked her, “Everything okay in there?”
Hayley lying, telling him, “Yes, everything’s great.”
The video stopped and Sal pocketed the phone. “Satisfied, Bruce?”
Bruce nodded. He glanced furtively to Hayley and then back to Sal. “I’m not feeling very good, Sal. I may be having a relapse.”
He grabbed his stomach as a wave of nausea apparently swept over him.
“Well, you best be getting home then, Bruce,” Sal said flatly.
Bruce, humiliated, turned and hightailed it out the door after grabbing his coat off the rack.
Sal turned to Hayley. “It’s okay if you want to make an issue out of this.”
“He was plowed, Sal. It was a Christmas party. These things happen.”
Sal nodded. “Good. Let’s get back to work.”
The phone rang as Sal pivoted and returned to his office.
Hayley sat down behind her desk and scooped up the receiver. “Island Times. This is Hayley speaking.”
“Hey, sis. You will never guess what Sergio got me for Christmas!”
It was Randy, Hayley’s younger brother.
“I hate playing this guessing game with my kids. Just tell me, please,” Hayley said, rubbing her eyes.
“I was snooping around the attic, you know, peeking around to see what I could find—”
“You’re worse than Dustin,” Hayley said, laughing.
“Anyway, I stumbled across this giant box wrapped in this fabulous paper with pictures of all these hot, bare-chested muscle dudes wearing Santa hats, and I thought it might be that fifty-two-inch flat-screen TV I’ve been begging for all year. But when I picked it up, it was really light. I mean, it felt like this huge box was just full of air. Well, needless to say, I was dying of curiosity—”
“Tell me you didn’t open it.”
“I did—but very carefully. I mean, peeling that Scotch tape off without tearing the paper was no small feat. It takes years of practice. I felt like I was performing surgery.”
“Randy!”
“I know, I know. It’s wrong, and I am going to hell, but I just couldn’t help myself. Inside was an envelope. And opening that was even harder than the box. I had to be really careful with the letter opener, but I managed to leave enough of that sticky stuff to seal it up again so he’d never know.”
“I’m at work, Randy. I need you to get to the point before Christmas Eve.”
“Tickets for a gay cruise! Through the Mediterranean next June! Spain, Italy, and France! Can you believe it?”
“Omigod, Randy, that’s fantastic!”
“Did you know about this?”
“No. You know Sergio doesn’t trust me. I tell you everything. Listen, put everything back the way you found it. Sergio is a cop. He’s an expert at examining the evidence. If he suspects you tampered with that gift, he might not give it to you.”
“That’s the same threat you use on your kids.”
“Yes, but Sergio’s not the pushover I am. He could actually mean it!”
“You’re right. I better go. Oh, one more thing. Can I tag along with you and your gal pals tonight for Midnight Madness? I’m closing the bar early and Sergio’s hosting an open house at the police station, so I’m on my own.”
“I’m skipping Midnight Madness this year, but I’m sure Mona and Liddy would love having you join them. If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m going to drop dead.”
In hindsight Hayley would soon realize “drop dead” was a severely unfortunate choice of words.
Chapter 11
Hayley left the office at the end of the day and rushed home to heat up the dishes she had prepared for Garth. Just before 6:00 P.M., she received a text from him instructing her to bring everything over to the warehouse promptly at 7:00 P.M. to set up. He asked if she could stay and help, since he was busy cooking a Dijon pork roast with cranberries for a party he was catering on Sunday.
Hayley instantly texted him back, telling him not to worry. She would be there on time with the dishes he requested. Hayley had made an additional garlic ham for the kids to have for dinner; that was the last thing she put in the oven to heat up. Gemma was still at the church rehearsing the Nativity play, and Dustin was with his math tutor.
Once the food was boxed and loaded into her car, she drove over to the warehouse.
As she parked the car in front of the building and got out, Hayley decided to let Garth know she was there so he could help her carry the boxes inside. She cautiously walked up to the entrance to the warehouse and knocked on the door to Garth’s kitchen.
She could hear music playing next door.
Classic rock.
Aerosmith or ZZ Top.
Obviously, Nick the foreman’s choice.
It was more from his generation.
She assumed Lex’s construction crew was having a few beers and kicking back after a long day sawing plywood and pounding nails.
The music wasn’t too loud, so Garth would have no reason to complain.
What was she thinking?
Garth would always find a reason to complain.
No one came to the door.
She knocked again. Louder.
Then tried the handle.
It was locked.
Hayley waited a few more moments and then plucked her phone from her coat pocket and texted him: Garth, I’m outside. Need help with the food.
She waited five more minutes, blowing into her winter gloves because the cold winds were gusting and the temperature outside was dropping.
She heard laughing coming from Lex’s office.
The crew was probably on their third or fourth six-pack.
Hayley checked her watch.
It was going on ten past seven.
They really
needed to set up before people began showing up looking to get fed by the Great Chef of Bar Harbor.
Hayley crinkled her nose. There was a smell in the air. A burning smell.
Then she heard a dog barking. It was coming from inside the warehouse. Behind the door. It was Bagel, Garth’s devoted bloodhound.
Something was wrong.
Seriously wrong.
Hayley raised her phone and punched in three numbers.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I’m at Garth Rawlings’s kitchen warehouse at the corner of Center Street and Main. I think the building may be on fire!” Hayley yelled. “Please hurry!”
The burning smell was getting stronger.
She noticed small puffs of smoke coming through the bottom of the locked warehouse door.
More barking. This time more frantic.
Hayley tried the door handle again, knowing it was locked, but feeling as if she had to do something.
A siren blared in the distance, getting closer by the second.
Hayley shoved herself hard against the door, trying desperately to bust it open, but only succeeding in almost dislocating her shoulder.
A fire truck pulled up to the warehouse and two firemen jumped down and raced over to join Hayley. Another one was uncoiling the hose as two more were turning on the water pump.
“Please step aside, Hayley,” one deep-voiced fireman said, gently taking her by the arm and moving her to his right.
He was so young. Hayley thought she might have babysat him when she was a teenager, but she couldn’t quite place the name.
After he assessed the situation, Fire Captain Dean Kendrick ordered his men to unlatch a long battering ram. Within thirty seconds four of the firemen were charging the door.
It took two tries, but the door finally gave. As it collapsed inside the warehouse, smoke poured out.
Three of the firemen raced inside, armed with fire extinguishers. The other two remained outside, ready with the hose.
Hayley hugged herself, praying Garth and Bagel would be rescued unharmed.
One of the firemen, the deep-voiced one, emerged, carrying Bagel in his arms. The poor dog looked shell-shocked but otherwise fine.