Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 1

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Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 1 Page 64

by Margaret Lashley


  I think Milly swallowed her gum. She choked.

  “What?”

  “When you broke up Annie’s date with Mr. Wheelin’ & Dealin’, she was shocked. When she got home, she called me, crying. She said you had done her a favor. She was sad, to be sure. But also grateful for what you’d done. Then I told her I’d seen you gals in here a few times, busting guys chops when they treated women badly. Well, she went from crying to laughing out loud. She loved the idea. Milly, my sister is a highly successful business woman. She thinks your idea is a big deal. She thinks you are, too.”

  Vance looked at me through the palm tree. “That includes you, too, Val.”

  I sighed and stepped out sheepishly.

  Milly did a double take. “Wait a minute. You said Milly, not Marsha.”

  Vance looked at Milly innocently. “I did?”

  “You knew it was me? How long?”

  “Come on, Milly. How could I not know it was you? You’re crazy and wonderful and amazing. The incredible changing woman.”

  Milly blinked hard, giving the appearance a blue butterfly had landed on her eyelids. “Really?

  “Yes, really. And I just happen to have a superpower of my own, you know. I can see you through whatever disguise you’re wearing.”

  “Does that include her bullet-proof Spanx?” I asked.

  “Shut up,” Milly said, then giggled. She hugged me, then lifted her arms and toddled over to hug Vance. Before she could reach him she was thwarted by a guy in a Mariachi outfit.

  “Sorry buster, but my friend here’s into tacos, not chimichangas.”

  Vance admired Cold Cuts’ cheesy sombrero and moustache. “See? Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

  “DO YOU HAVE A SUNBURN or are you always this hot?” Tom was leaning against the doorframe, looking better than a man his age ought to.

  I smiled. Tom was back to telling bad jokes. This was a very good sign.

  “Come on in, you,” I said.

  “These are for you.” Tom handed me a bouquet of Gerber daisies and kissed me lightly on the lips.

  “More flowers? Someone’s in a good mood. What’s up?”

  “The pressure’s off at work. Apparently, Jergen found the missing evidence. It appears I’m to be exonerated rather than annihilated.”

  “I had a feeling that would happen,” I said cheerily. I put the flowers in a vase. “Beer?”

  Tom looked at me funny.

  “What?” I asked. “It’s not light beer.”

  “What do you mean you had a feeling, Val? Did you do something? Say something?”

  “Tom....”

  “I want the truth, Val. Your honest word. I’m serious.”

  Tom’s sea-green eyes weren’t stormy. They were clear as glass. All of a sudden, out of the blue, it was make or break time. All or nothing. Sink or swim. Fess up or lie.

  I walked up to Tom and took his hand and held it tight. “What kind of a friend would ask you to take the hit for him, Tom? Then abandon you as part of the deal? I told Jergen the truth.”

  Tom looked appalled. “What? Why would you do that?”

  “Tom, I just couldn’t stand another minute of watching you suffer for someone else’s misdeeds. I love you too much to let your good name be smeared in the mud by that...pin-prick moron. I’m sorry.”

  Tom’s dismay vanished. “Wait a minute. Did you just say you love me?”

  “What?”

  Tom grinned. “Don’t deny it. I heard it, fair and square.”

  “Aw crap. I guess I do.”

  Chapter Thirty

  MILLY, COLD CUTS AND I had just arrived in the fancy lobby of Pantski & Pantski, Image Consulting. For the first time ever, the three of us were dressed as our normal selves, all at the same time.

  “Your knees are knocking, Milly,” I said. “Why are you so nervous?”

  “I made such a jerk of myself in front of Vance. I think I’m going to be sick!”

  “No you didn’t. Marsha Melloski did.”

  Milly’s panicked face relaxed a notch. “You’re right. Maybe he won’t hold it against me.”

  Thin, elegant Annie Pantski walked up wearing a suit that probably cost more than Milly’s Beemer. She greeted Milly and me, and shook our hands. Then she turned to our partner.

  “Hi. You must be...Cold Cuts?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Do you have a real name?”

  Cold Cuts looked around and sighed. “Penelope Piddleton.”

  I would have laughed out loud if Milly hadn’t knocked the air out of my lungs with her elbow. I held my head up and tried to look serious as I bit the inside of my lip nearly clear through.

  “I’m Annie Pantski. My brother Vance has told me all about you three.”

  Vance came out of an office and stood beside Annie. He looked almost debonair in his brown suit, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. I saw Milly shoot him a worried look.

  “All good, I assure you,” Vance said with a smile.

  “And pretty impressive, too,” Annie added. “Thank you for coming. I’ve got an idea I want to share with you all. Please, follow me.”

  We trailed like ducklings behind Annie to an expensive-looking conference room. A large map of the USA hung on a wall next to a dry-erase board. We took seats around the exquisite table made of black onyx. Vance stepped halfway inside the room, but lingered in the doorframe. Annie studied our faces for a moment and motioned toward her brother.

  “Do you mind if Vance sits in on the meeting? I thought it would be good to include your biggest fan. But it’s totally up to you three.”

  We exchanged shrugs. Cold Cuts spoke for us. “Sure. Why not.”

  Vance took a seat next to Milly. Cold Cuts and I grinned at each other.

  “So ladies, let’s cut to the chase,” Annie began. “Vance has already given your business concept a big thumbs up.”

  Vance nodded and smiled.

  “And I’ve already been a customer,” Annie continued. “A very satisfied customer, I might add. Thank you again, ladies.”

  “You’re welcome,” Milly said bashfully.

  “Date Busters is a brilliant idea,” Annie continued. “So brilliant that I’ve already floated the concept to some of my colleagues around the US...after having them sign an NDR – non-disclosure agreement – of course.”

  “Why would you do that?” Cold Cuts asked. “We thought you were going to help us build our image.”

  “Why, franchising, my dear! Image is the easy part. It’s good business ideas that are hard to come by. And like I said, this is a great idea. Even better, with your skills and ingenuity, you three could cash in without having to actually do the ‘busting’ part.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “What would we do, then?”

  “You three would put together a line of disguises and instructions – a rough ‘rules of the road’ handbook, and we could take it from there. I envision an on-line guidebook. An app. A couple of coaching videos. A few legal guidelines. With a good brand image, logo, and some discrete marketing, we could make Date Busters a ‘Biz in a Box.’ The perfect choice for savvy entrepreneurs almost anywhere. We could franchise it across the country to start, then, who knows?”

  “But, would anyone buy it?” Milly asked.

  Annie stood up and walked over to the map of the US. She picked up a pointer and began stabbing it toward cities as she spoke.

  “So far, I’ve got people in San Francisco, Portland, Atlanta, Orlando and New York City ready and waiting to buy in. Ladies, it seems bad dates are happening everywhere.”

  Milly raised her eyebrows and nodded. “I could have told you that.”

  Cold Cuts piped up. “So what are we talking about...money wise?”

  “With a prepackaged, buttoned-up product, I’d say thirty thousand, easily,” Annie replied.

  “For the whole country?”

  Annie looked startled. “What? No. For each franchise. Ladies, I figure you’ve got a good sh
ot at the top 100 metropolitan markets, just for starters.”

  Cold Cuts tried to do the math in her head. “That’s like –”

  “Three million dollars,” Annie said. “I figure we could be up and running in two or three months, if we hustle. After all, this isn’t rocket science, and we don’t need to manufacture anything. I’ve already lined up an app developer. I’ve also researched and negotiated the rights for Date Busters dot com. All I need from you three is a green light. And a few signatures, of course.”

  The three of us looked at each other but didn’t say a word. We were too stunned.

  “By the way, I love the name,” Annie said. “It’s a classic. We were thinking we could kick things off with the three of you taking a road trip across the country. Demonstrating your ‘product’ first hand to interested investors. What do you think?”

  Cold Cuts turned to us and said, “I think we’re gonna need a bigger RV.”

  WE LEFT THE MEETING in a daze. We climbed in the old RV and crossed our fingers it would start. Cold Cuts turned the ignition. The engine sputtered to life. We all three cheered with pent-up excitement.

  “Wahoo! Where to?” Cold Cuts asked. “We need to celebrate!”

  She fiddled with the knob on the radio. A commercial was playing for Crazy Dazy RV Center. A woman who sounded on the edge of an orgasm pleaded for us to “not miss the greatest sale of the century!”

  Cold Cuts grinned. “Shall we? Annie did agree we could use a new RV. It’s a business write off.”

  Milly and I exchanged glances.

  “Why the hell not.”

  ALL DOLLED UP AND ELATED from our meeting with Annie, we must have looked like manna from heaven to the hungry Crazy Daze salesman. We strolled up to the biggest RV I’d ever seen in my life.

  “She’s a real beaut, isn’t she?” the salesman said, then rocked on his heels with pride.

  “You talking to me?” Cold Cuts asked.

  “Uh, yes,” the man said, and put both feet on the ground. “The MegaFab 3800 is our latest model.”

  Cold Cuts turned her nose up. “I dunno. What’s so special about it?”

  “Is that your camper out front?”

  Cold Cuts looked at me before she answered. “Maybe.”

  “You know, this is your lucky day. We’re running a special. Today only, I can give you ten grand for your trade in.”

  Cold Cuts eyebrows raised an inch. “For that RV?”

  “Any RV, any condition. But it’s today only. By the way, my name’s Ralph.”

  “How appropriate. He makes me want to hurl,” I whispered to Milly. She shoved me on the shoulder.

  “How much is this RV?” Cold Cuts asked.

  “This beauty? She’s on sale this week for just a hundred ninety-nine.”

  Cold Cuts blanched. Hell, we all did. “Thousand? Dollars?”

  “Well, a hundred eighty-nine, with the trade in,” Ralph said.

  “That’s like the price of a house,” Milly said. “A real house.”

  Ralph pressed on, undaunted. “Well, ladies, the MegaFab 3800 is a real house. Without the property taxes and homeowner’s insurance. The world’s your oyster in a MegaFab 3800.”

  “Did he really just say, ‘The world’s your oyster?’” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Cold Cuts said. She shot me a wry grin. “If he says MegaFab 3800 one more time, I’m gonna MegaFab him.”

  Ralph showed us his bad dental work and opened the door to the huge RV. “Come on in, ladies. Take a look inside.”

  THE THREE OF US WERE sitting along the sucker side of a cheap desk in the Crazy Daze sales office. Ralph, our salesman, was on the other side. From a window, through the yellowed, plastic blinds, I could see Glad’s RV baking in the parking lot in the glaring, late-afternoon sun. It looked tiny and feral and outcast among the big, shiny new RVs. I felt sorry for it.

  “Gee, you girls drive a hard bargain.” Ralph turned up the fake charm and pressure, hoping to close a deal. He wiped fake sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and stared at a sheet of paper onto which Cold Cuts had written an offer for the MegaFab 3800.

  “I’m not sure I’m allowed to do this. I mean, at this price ladies, my commission won’t even buy my wife and kids a bag of groceries.”

  As fat as he was, a diet wouldn’t hurt.

  I kept my mouth shut. Cold Cuts gave me a sideways look that assured me she wasn’t buying his baloney. Milly smiled sappily. Like any good salesman, Ralph zeroed in on the most likely target. He winked at Milly.

  “I tell you what. I like you girls, so I’m gonna go talk to my manager. See if he’ll give me the go ahead to cut my own throat, so to speak.”

  Milly looked genuinely concerned as Ralph left. When he shut door behind him, I suddenly felt as if I were trapped in a bad psycho killer movie.

  “I’d like to cut his throat myself,” Cold Cuts joked. “I hope that’s part of the deal.”

  “Why?” Milly asked. “He seems nice. Besides, we should be excited. This whole thing should be...a celebration. We’ve hit the big time, remember?”

  “But the guy’s such a sleaze...”

  The door cracked open. We were made privy to the end of a sentence Ralph didn’t intend us to overhear.

  “...a trio of real cash cows.”

  Milly’s sympathetic expression dropped away like a bug sprayed with Raid.

  Ralph strutted back into the office, followed by his manager. They smiled and tutted at us as if we were a trio of toddlers. Ralph’s manager didn’t recognize us. But Milly and I knew who he was in an instant. We elbowed each other discretely. The manager was none other than Annie Pantski’s jerk-wad ex-boyfriend, haughty Harold. Milly’s hard-nose expression calcified to stone.

  The two sleazy salesmen stood and beamed at us – Ralph with his missing molars, Harold with his ridiculous capped teeth – like a discount dentist’s before and after shots.

  “See?” Ralph said. “Didn’t I tell you they were the most gorgeous customers we’ve ever had in here?”

  “Wow! You’re right, Ralph! I just might need to go get my sunglasses. They’re dazzling!”

  I thought I heard Cold Cuts wretch. But Harold appeared completely impervious to rejection.

  “My best salesman here told me how I should hire you three,” he chuckled. “You’re quite the wheeler-dealers! Now, I can’t let you have it at the price you suggested. A man’s got to feed his family, after all.”

  Harold blessed us with another look at his fake teeth. When his smile went unreturned, I thought I saw his braggadocio skip a beat.

  “Well, ladies. I do believe you drive a hard bargain,” Harold said. “I tell you what. I can give you an extra thousand for your trade-in. I think that’s mighty generous, considering its age.”

  Cold Cuts shrugged. “I guess we could think about it.”

  Harold smiled at her as if she were a simpleton. “I understand. But this is a one-time, today-only offer. Think of it. You’re getting top-of-the-line luxury at a rock-bottom price. Besides, I’m not at all sure that sad little piece of scrap metal you drove in here with will be able to make it off the lot.”

  I saw Cold Cuts’ hackles rise. If she hadn’t been on the same page as Milly and me before, she was now.

  “So, what do you ladies say? Ready to trade in that worn-out old gal for a brand-new, shiny one with all the latest bells and whistles?” Harold flashed the chicklet caps again and dangled a set of keys at us like we were kittens in a box. We stared at him blankly.

  He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. “Did I mention I’m allergic to the word ‘no’?”

  Cold Cuts got out her checkbook and a pen. I swear both men began to salivate. She grinned at me and Milly like an evil stepmother. She poised the pen over a check, then suddenly snapped the checkbook closed. She shoved it back in her purse as the two men nearly fell off their tippy-toes.

  Cold Cuts stood up “You know, I think we’ll pass.”

  “What?” Harold gas
ped. “I don’t believe it!”

  “Oh, come on, now, fellas,” Cold Cuts said. “Men of your obvious charms have got to be used to getting turned down on a daily basis. Hourly, even.”

  I could almost see the dollar signs fall off the two men’s eyes.

  Harold scrambled, his bluff called. “Look. There’s no problem here. Tell you what, we’ll take your last offer. This is a done deal. I’ll just go get the paperwork.”

  Cold Cuts motioned for us to stand. “I don’t think so. Sorry, but you two just don’t have anything that smart, sensible women like us would be interested in.”

  Oh, snap!

  Milly and I got up, pointed our noses in the air and followed Cold Cuts out the office door. The two men followed behind us, prancing around as if they were about to piss their pants.

  “Ladies!” Harold called after us. “Look, I’ll throw in new floor mats.”

  Cold Cuts didn’t even look back. “No thanks.”

  Harold’s confident voice cracked. “Don’t make a rash decision. You won’t find a better deal.”

  Cold Cuts stopped in the middle of the showroom and turned to face Harold and Ralph. “We’ve seen plenty of better deals.”

  Harold treated us to the grand finale. He bowed, smiled like Uriah Heep, and said, “Okay, you win. Final offer. Free service for a year.”

  Cold Cuts marched over to the glass showroom door, opened it and stepped outside. I followed her out, then turned to give Milly a high-five. Milly was standing at the open door. She held her finger up for us to wait.

  I tapped Cold Cuts on the shoulder. We both turned to watch as Milly put on her most innocent face and called to Annie’s ex from halfway through the open door.

  “Harold?” she said with thick Southern charm. He jumped to her side, re-inflated at the renewed possibility of making the sale.

  She smiled sweetly and said, “Honey Boo Boo says, ‘No-no.’ Bye-bye!”

  She let go of the door and waved goodbye as it slowly closed. Through the glass I watched Harold’s capped teeth disappear behind his hanging, hound-dog lips.

 

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