Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)

by Sierra Cartwright

  Sofia shook her head. “That’s it.” The rest was personal and private.

  Obviously sensing she wasn’t going to get any more information, Zoe returned to business. “Okay, we know that working with the Donovan family could be really good for Encore. It could give us an intro into another echelon of contacts, which means long-term growth. So what are the potential pitfalls?”

  “Besides capital expenses? If a thousand people RSVP, we may need to buy more sections for our party tent. And we’ll need to know soon so that we can get them ordered.” They rarely got requests for events of that size. Of course, they could advertise the additional capacity, in all the cities they served. “And he wants me to handle the details personally. All of them.”

  Zoe fished out her raspberry and popped it into her mouth. “Did you mention you don’t have time for that?”

  “More than once, actually.”

  “And? Come on, sis. Do I have to drag every stinking detail out of you?”

  “Well, if you’d quit interrupting, we’d get through it faster.” Sofia took a drink. “I told him we had a capable team, and that if he wanted that kind of personalized attention, it would be costly.”

  “If you’re not spending as much time at the Houston branch, we may need to hire extra help. I can work a few more hours, but I have to stay focused on sales when possible.”

  “True.” Sofia had moved to Houston for college eight years ago. When Zoe had been accepted into the same school two years later, they’d become roommates. It had been natural for Zoe to join Encore, even more natural to promote her to general manager when Sofia had opened the San Antonio branch.

  Somehow Zoe managed to juggle all kinds of responsibilities. But there was a limit to how much more they could handle. “On the other hand, it could be good for me to spend more time in Corpus.” The team was doing an exceptional job, but if she were there more often, she could perhaps generate additional sales. “Am I insane for even considering it? Should I cancel Tuesday’s appointment?”

  “We have other high-maintenance clients.”

  “Not like this.”

  “And it’s temporary,” Zoe said. “Six months, max. And it could be a good opportunity to find out who our best employees are, where we have weaknesses. I can spend a bit more time in San Antonio, as well.”

  “I don’t want you to get burned out.” Even with excellent people in each location, driving the vast distances between the three sites each week grew tiresome. She needed Zoe to be her very best.

  “Maybe we can see if there’s someone who’s ready to be promoted over there?”

  “It’s an idea. You sure you can handle more?”

  “As I said, it’s temporary.”

  The more she thought about it, the more Sofia liked the idea. A little extra time in Corpus Christi might be good, and things would be back to normal before the busy holiday season.

  “Just make sure you price it well,” Zoe added.

  “I told him it may include a Pain in the Ass Fee.”

  Zoe lifted her glass once again.

  The timer buzzed and Sofia pulled out the quiche she’d put together that morning.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Red, green and orange bell peppers as well as spinach, onions and mushroom. I’m calling it rainbow quiche.”

  “Which means I’m the taste tester for a new recipe.”

  Sofia grinned. “Yep.” She put the dish on a rack to cool.

  While she placed an assortment of berries and mint on white plates, Zoe refilled the glasses.

  For the next few minutes, Zoe chatted about her lively social life. Zoe had a wide circle of friends, and she was dating several different men at the same time. “Anything serious with any of them?” Sofia asked.

  Zoe took a fork and started spearing the pieces of fruit that Sofia had arranged on the plates. “No. So many men, so little time.”

  That had been the main reason she’d moved out a few years ago. Sofia wasn’t enough of a party animal to keep up with Zoe.

  When Zoe aimed for a strawberry on Sofia’s plate, Sofia smacked away her sister’s hand.

  Once the quiche was cool enough to cut, Sofia served them each a slice.

  After taking a bite, she said, “Maybe I should add a hint of cayenne pepper.”

  “You could.” Zoe nodded. “Nothing wrong with it as it is.”

  “But it might give it just a little more jazz.”

  “At some point, sis, it’s okay to admit something is fine as it is and quit trying to improve it.”

  She frowned. “I don’t do that.”

  “Yeah. You do. You edit proposals until the last possible minute before the deadline. You tweak a recipe every single time you make it. You’ll mop the floor then rinse it again.”

  Sofia winced. “I’m that bad?”

  “You should ease up on yourself. Sometimes good enough is good enough.”

  The words stung a bit, but she wasn’t sure there wasn’t some truth to them.

  After they were finished eating, they turned on the webcam and set up a video call.

  Their mother, Cynthia, looked tired but happy, holding one of the twins. Their stepfather John held the other baby, and Delores, their half-sister, was pulling two pies from the convection oven.

  “They’ve grown since last week,” Sofia exclaimed.

  “But they haven’t slept,” Delores protested.

  Sofia missed the mayhem, and sometimes the video chats made it worse. The family still lived in the humble house where Sofia and Zoe had grown up. She remembered the zany years of too many people in too few rooms.

  At first, after her alcoholic father had abandoned the family, things had been horrible. Instead of just working as a server for a local caterer on the weekends, Cynthia had taken a full-time job and had started baking pies and cakes for local restaurants.

  After juggling it all as a single mother, she’d met John McBride at a local hall where he’d been repairing the building’s air conditioning. She’d offered him a bottle of water, and he’d been smitten. Cynthia had insisted she had no time for men, but John had been persistent. Her divorce had been long and messy, but John had stayed by her side.

  And when it was over, he’d married her then adopted both Sofia and Zoe, moving them from a one-bedroom apartment into the small house and providing his new family with stability while Cynthia had built her own catering business. They’d had three kids together, all girls.

  Even though Sofia felt sorry for John, being surrounded by all those children and estrogen, she’d never heard him complain. He’d worked hard all his life, and he’d spent a lot of his evenings driving the catering van for his wife.

  “Are you coming to town this week?” her mom asked.

  “Yes. Tuesday. I have a meeting with Cade Donovan.”

  Delores swung to face the camera, a pie still between her hands.

  “They’re hosting a centennial celebration at the ranch this fall.”

  “No shit?” Delores asked.

  “Language,” John scolded.

  Though Sofia had never heard him utter a swear word, somehow all the girls had developed colorful vocabularies.

  “I was planning to stop by afterward to see the twins.” Up until Delores had given birth, Sofia had often stayed overnight when she was in Corpus Christi. But now, with the twins, the only place left to sleep was the pull-out couch, and since the twins rarely slept for long periods of time, it was occupied almost all night.

  “We’d love to see you,” Cynthia said as she moved her tiny bundle to her shoulder.

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Cynthia frowned. “Zoe Michelle, what is that on your neck?”

  “Nothing, Mom,” Zoe said quickly as she moved her hair forward.

  John squinted at the camera.

  Sofia took a closer look. “Busted,” she whispered.

  “She has eyes like a hawk,” Zoe replied. “I thought the fucking thing was gone!”

&
nbsp; “What did you say?” Cynthia demanded.

  “It’s getting late. I need to be going…to church. Yeah. Church.”

  Cynthia started to protest but John waved her off and spoke over her, “You need to come see us, Zoe. Sofia makes the effort.”

  Sofia promised to call on Tuesday when she was at the office then disconnected the call. “Church?”

  Zoe shrugged lamely.

  “And a love bite?”

  “I’m going to hell for all my lies.”

  “I think you’ll have plenty of company while you’re there,” Sofia replied while sliding off her chair. She moved to the other side of the counter to cut off a large slice of the quiche. “Who’s the vampire?”

  “Might have been Todd.”

  “Might have been?” Sofia asked, pausing with her knife halfway through the egg dish.

  “Probably.”

  “Probably?” she repeated.

  Obviously Zoe couldn’t keep a secret and gnawed on her thumbnail for a second before adding, “Maybe Marcel.”

  “I haven’t heard about him.” Sofia finished the downward motion with the knife then drew it toward her.

  “Is that for me? It is, isn’t it? You’re taking pity on me so I don’t have to cook this afternoon.”

  “You’re not getting out of telling me this story,” Sofia countered.

  “Nothing much. A bunch of us went to dinner on Thursday night then headed for dancing at the Top of the City.”

  The nightclub had opened a little less than a year ago. It occupied the top floor of a downtown high-rise, and there were reportedly bouncers at the door on the street level to check the invitation list before allowing guests the privilege of waiting in line to get on the elevator.

  “Marcel is the manager, and I might have thanked him for letting us cut the line. You could join us some night.”

  “I’m in bed by then.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “We arrived just after ten.”

  “Like I said…”

  “Sis, I may drag you there myself. You’ve got to get out. Live a little.”

  She wished she had an argument for that. Zoe worked as hard as she played.

  She put the slice of quiche into a plastic storage box then pressed the lid into place.

  “Any more of those berries left?”

  “You could go to a farmer’s market sometime. Or even a grocery store.”

  “A…what?”

  Sofia filled a second container with fruit, stacked it on top of the first then slid them both into a paper bag.

  “I don’t suppose you have—”

  “Out. Go home. Or better yet, go to church.”

  With a grin, Zoe stood. “Seriously, I’ve got your back if you decide to go ahead with the Donovan deal.”

  “I know you do. That means a lot.”

  “But I’ll want to know what kind of kisser he is.”

  “Go to church. Twice.”

  After Zoe left, the apartment seemed laden with emptiness. Zoe’s life always seemed so exciting in contrast to hers, and generally Sofia enjoyed listening to the stories. Today, though, the silence and emptiness felt like a shroud.

  That damn Cade Donovan had gotten to her. And she couldn’t wait to be with him again.

  * * * *

  “Are you freaking kidding me? The Donovans? The Donovans?”

  Did everyone have the same reaction when they heard that name? Sofia was sitting at the wooden table that served as the warehouse’s lunch area, conference room, prep space, even an extra office in a pinch. Encore’s Corpus Christi project manager, Vivian, sat across from her. Tyrone, the branch’s foreman, was seated at the far end.

  Sofia plucked the last cookie from a white platter. Since they managed the majority of the area’s events, it wasn’t unusual for restaurants, bakers or caterers to stop in with samples, much to the delight of her mouth and horror of her hips. She’d learned one thing—people only provided their very best treats.

  She hesitated before putting it in her mouth. Common sense urged her to skip it and go somewhere for a salad. But the fact she’d eaten a stale protein bar for breakfast was tipping the odds in the cookie’s favor.

  Her alarm had chimed at five a.m., and she’d prepared two cups of coffee for the road before making the four-and-a-half-hour drive to Corpus Christi.

  After arriving, she’d said a quick hello to her staff and promised to be ready to meet just after they returned from lunch. Then she’d shut herself in her office to reply to emails, check each scheduled event’s progress, look at budgets as well as sign a couple of purchase orders and checks.

  While she was there, she’d put together a presentation for Cade. She’d added pictures of other events they’d done, including some from last year’s rodeo and others showing photographs of tents and table displays, even cakes.

  She’d finished with her checklists and her company’s Gold Star Satisfaction Guarantee. After emailing the whole thing to herself just in case of technical glitches, she’d sought out her managers.

  “Eat it already,” Vivian insisted, jolting Sofia from her musings.

  Finally, Sofia closed her eyes and took a bite of the chocolate chip deliciousness. “Bliss. I have no idea what’s in this, but damn, it’s good.”

  “It was everything I could do to save that one for you,” Vivian said.

  “I’m not sure whether or not to be grateful.”

  “Next time, Tyrone, I won’t throw myself between you and the plate.”

  “You did that for me?” Sofia asked Vivian.

  “Tyrone said you’d never know what you were missing.”

  Sofia scowled at her foreman. In his late thirties, Tyrone stood well over six feet tall. He was as broad as a tree, had a tribal tattoo on the upper part of his left arm, wore a bandana around his head and had a ferocious look, but a quick smile. She’d seen him devour a dozen brownies without blinking. “Did you say that?”

  “Trying to protect you from yourself, boss.” He lifted one shoulder. “Part of my job description.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I sacrificed my body for you, boss,” Vivian continued.

  “Your heroics have made it taste even better.” She savored every bite. “Keep this company in mind as a backup for boxed lunches,” she said. Most of that business went to her mother, but occasionally extra help was needed.

  Vivian jotted a note.

  “So where were we?” Sofia brushed her hands together to dust off the crumbs.

  “The Running Wind,” Tyrone prompted.

  She filled them in on the centennial celebration and told them about Donovan’s specific demands.

  “How much personal attention does he want?” Vivian asked.

  “My involvement in every detail. Which will necessitate longer visits to Corpus Christi.”

  “Meaning you’ll be spending less time at the Houston office,” Vivian said. “Which might not be a good thing.”

  “For a number of reasons.” Because Houston was the fourth largest city in the United States, Encore’s operations there were bigger. That meant margins were thinner. “Zoe has offered to put in some extra hours.”

  “Awesome,” Vivian said. “She’s good, but her putting in extra time won’t be the same as having the two of you work on things together. And she’s damn good at sales. You don’t want her taking too much time away from that.”

  “We’re at a juncture here,” Tyrone said. “We’ve been talking about this for what, eighteen months? We need to expand.”

  But they needed more money to expand.

  For certain events, they had to subcontract suppliers for tables and chairs, even flatware. Those services left them at the mercy of other companies, and Encore paid a premium, especially during the summer months.

  On the other hand, owning all that meant capital expenditures and a larger warehouse.

  The eternal business conundrum.

  “This could be the opportunity we’ve been looking for,” Tyron
e continued. “We outgrew this warehouse well over a year ago.”

  Tyrone had been pushing for growth for several years, and she valued his input. He’d started out loading vans for her mother years ago. He was the only person who’d been with the company longer than Sofia had. And everything he said was correct. They’d erected several metal buildings for extra storage, but she knew managing inventory and getting trucks ready for deliveries was more complicated because of it.

  “On the other hand, it could overextend us and put us at financial risk,” Vivian countered.

  “We don’t have enough information to work with,” Sofia said.

  “I’ll run some numbers when we know more,” Vivian suggested. “Put together some scenarios.”

  “Agreed.” Sofia nodded. Vivian wasn’t just an excellent project manager, she had killer spreadsheet skills. Since they’d been working together for a couple of years, she knew the business well and had developed an uncanny ability to anticipate Sofia’s questions and concerns.

  “I’ll put together some projections about the event, but also about Tyrone’s expansion.” Vivian paused. “And having an actual showroom where we could bring potential customers would be excellent.”

  They had that in Houston, and Vivian was right, it made a big difference. Having more room meant they could host tastings, leave tables set up as examples, drape the ceiling, display arches and columns. “We could host an open house,” Sofia mused.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Tyrone agreed.

  “Let’s not be too hasty.” Sofia said the words as a reminder to herself as much as her staff.

  “Mind if I solicit some bids?” Tyrone asked.

  “You’ll need to for Vivian’s projections.” Sofia experienced the same burst of adrenaline and dread she’d felt when she’d signed the contract to buy this property nearly three years ago. “Anything else for me to think about before I head out?”

  Vivian ran through the upcoming weekend’s events and provided updates on future bookings. Outside, thunder rumbled.

  Tyrone said he’d hired on extra help for the summer.

  She nodded, glad for her team’s competence.

  “You’re not coming back today, are you?” Vivian asked.

  Sofia shook her head. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be at the Donovan place, and I want to spend some time with my mom and the twins. And I’m a road warrior tomorrow.”