“Are you sure?”
“Yes, but I love you for offering.” Sandra walked up to a woman selling Rice Krispies treats three tables away, and dread spiraled darkly through Izzy’s stomach. “Go back to bed. I’ll see you later.”
“Good luck.”
Izzy ended the call, and Sandra prowled one table closer on her inspection tour. Izzy’s palms grew slick, and she wiped them on her slacks.
“Psst. Over here.”
Izzy looked at the woman next to her, a mom she recognized from the soccer field. Her daughter played against Ana on occasion. The woman stared straight ahead, and Izzy wondered if she’d been hearing things.
The woman kept her gaze focused on the far wall. “Don’t look at me,” she said out of the side of her mouth.
“Okaaay.”
“I got what you need.” Reaching under her table, the woman pulled out a plastic storage container and placed it on the corner of her table. Without looking down, she lifted the edge of the lid, revealing succulent-looking lemon bars dusted with powdered sugar. She snapped the lid closed. “They’re yours if you want them. But they don’t come free.”
Her heart kicked into third gear. The lemon bars were beautiful. A sunshine yellow filling with a golden crust and a crackly top that begged for a fork to dive in. She looked at the wrapped individual slices of pound cake that were artfully arranged on the tray in front of the woman.
“Why do you have lemon bars and cake?” Was this some sort of trap? Something the Mothers’ Mafia had set in motion as extra punishment for those who failed to fall into line? And holy crap, was she starting to sound paranoid. She and Bob Burker could form a club. How had a small volunteer organization driven her to this point?
“In case I overcooked my cake, I didn’t want to be left empty-handed.” The woman shrugged. A faint red tinged her brown skin. “The last time my brownies were a little dry and I still haven’t heard the end of it, so I bought these lemon bars as backup.”
In a normal world, that would be bordering on nutso. But with the Mothers’ Mafia around, it seemed perfectly reasonable.
Sandra took a step their way, then turned back when the woman she’d been talking to asked another question.
“How much do you want for them?” Izzy only had twenty dollars in her wallet, but she was ready to write a check for almost any amount.
“A favor.” Pulling her ponytail of dark curls forward over her shoulder, the woman held the poof of hair in front of her mouth like a shield. “There might come a time when these harpies find themselves losing control of the reins of power. I want to know that you’ll be on my side if that happens.”
Izzy blinked. “Are you talking about a coup?”
“Shh!” The woman’s gaze darted around the hallway. “Time’s running out. You need to make a decision. Are you in or are you out?”
Sandra marched down the hall toward their table, her slingback pumps clicking on the tile floor.
“In, dammit.” Snatching the plastic container, she popped open the lid and placed it on the open spot in front of her. Sandra stopped to talk to her savior, and Izzy pulled a pen from her purse and scratched out the word “Cupcakes” on her name card. She wrote in “Lemon Bars” and turned the card to face forward just as Sandra stepped in front of her.
“Good morning, Izzy. Glad you were able to finally contribute.” The VP ran a hand through her short blond pageboy and looked down at her clipboard. Her forehead wrinkled. “But you were supposed to bring cupcakes. We already have someone selling individual lemon tarts.”
“And now we have it in bar form.” She bared her teeth. “The cupcakes didn’t work out.”
“Hmm.” Sandra tapped her pen on the clipboard. “Well I guess it’s better than nothing.”
Izzy’s cheeks started to hurt with the effort of keeping her smile. “Yes, they are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.”
Lowering her arms to her sides, Sandra shook her head. “You’re supposed to be here to sell your baked goods. Showing our kids that you care enough to get involved is the whole point.”
“I thought the point was to raise money for the field trip.”
Sandra sniffed. “Well, that too.”
“I already agreed to sell the lemon bars for her,” the rebel leader piped up. “We’re all set here.”
Sandra locked her jaw. “Well, if Ana doesn’t mind that her mother isn’t here, then I certainly don’t.”
Dark spots danced in Izzy’s vision. Whenever this coup happened, she hoped it was a violent one.
Sandra turned. “I hope your cake doesn’t dry the kids’ mouths out like your brownies did, Bernice.” And with that parting shot, she was off to another victim.
Izzy circled her jaw, trying to work the ache out. “Bernice, is it?” She held out her hand and the woman took it. “Thank you so much.” Digging into her purse, she pulled out a business card. “Call me when the time comes.”
The woman nodded, a dark brown curl bouncing over her forehead. “I’m building an army. We won’t be alone.”
And on that ominous note, Izzy hiked her purse on her shoulder and headed for the exit. She passed Sandra with a group of the other committee chairs and tried to tiptoe past so her heels wouldn’t draw notice.
She failed.
“Oh, Isabelle, I wanted to ask you something.” Sandra waved her over to the fifth circle of hell. “I heard that Bert’s Bakery might be for sale. Do you know anything about that?”
Her heart froze, before pounding into high gear. “Bert’s? No, I hadn’t heard that.” Technically it was true. The bakery occupied one of the buildings Burker was thinking of selling, but the sale of a business, not the real estate, would be an entirely separate transaction. It was possible that Bert was trying to sell his business at the same time Burker was thinking of selling his building. But the coincidence seemed unlikely.
“Who told you about the sale?” Izzy asked, trying to keep her voice as casual as possible.
Sandra cocked her head. “Who was it, Julie?” she asked the woman next to her. “Did we hear it at the nail salon or at our hair appointment?”
“Nail salon,” Julie said. “Though I don’t remember who first brought it up.”
Perfect. Rumors were making it to the nail salons. And they’d started up after Tariq came aboard the project.
“If you ladies will excuse me, I have to get going.” There was an ass kicking to plan and a proposal to save. She marched from the school. The parking monitor shook her head to express her disapproval of how long Izzy had been in the loading zone, and Izzy raised a hand in apology. She slammed into her car and took two calming breaths. They didn’t help. Turning, she looked into the backseat. “You guys okay back there? Your checkup is going to have to wait while I have a word with my sneaky-ass coworker.”
Jasmine yipped. The unconditional support worked better than the meditative breathing, and her blood pressure went down a notch. “Thanks, pup.” Turning on the car, she headed for her office and another confrontation with Tariq. This time there would be no threatening of bodily harm to get her in trouble with the boss. No raised voices.
She pulled into the parking lot behind her office, finding a spot under a tree for shade. Opening the windows first, she cut the engine and then took the dogs out for a bathroom break before herding them back into the SUV. Vi was a little slower than usual, her rounded stomach scraping against the seat as she dragged herself up. She flopped down with a huff and rolled to her side.
“It’s your own fault if you have a stomachache.” Izzy placed the puppy in a makeshift bed of blankets and gave him a chew toy. “I’ll be back soon.”
She marched into the office and beelined for Tariq’s desk. She dumped her purse on it, and he glanced up, startled.
“Nice of you to finally get to work,” he said. “Can’t your kid
take the bus?”
“Half the office isn’t here yet.” Izzy scowled. “Don’t make everything about me being a mom, you sexist prick.”
He blinked, and his mouth fell open.
She was on a roll now. “Someone just asked me if Bert’s Bakery was for sale. Do you know anything about that?”
He tapped his fingers on his desk. “Do you think the information is out? We’re going to have to contain this before Burker hears about it.”
“So, the actual business isn’t for sale?”
“Not that I’ve heard.” He turned to his computer and tapped on a few keys. “And it’s not on my broker’s report.”
Izzy’s stomach plummeted. That’s what she’d thought, but having it confirmed was a blow. “So how do you think the information got out? I sure as hell didn’t tell anyone.”
“Wait.” Tariq stood. “You think I told someone?”
“Did you?”
“I resent that.” Fisting his hands on his hips, Tariq narrowed his eyes. “There are a lot of potential buyers you’ve met with who know it might be coming on the market. Any one of them could have said something. I understand my professional responsibilities.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Someone sighed loudly behind her. Tariq’s gaze darted over Izzy’s left shoulder and he blew out a breath. “Morning, Liz.”
Izzy rolled her head. Pasting on a tight smile, she turned. “Hi, Liz.”
“Izzy, can you please join me in my office.” Without waiting for a response, her boss turned on her heel and strode away.
“I didn’t tell anyone anything that I shouldn’t have,” Tariq hissed. “And when you’re done getting reamed out, come back here so we can discuss our next steps. I have a couple meetings set up you might want to sit in on.” Dropping back into his seat, he rolled in close to his desk and went back to work.
Feet dragging, Izzy trudged down the hall and knocked on her boss’s door. Liz waved her in. “Shut the door, please.”
Crap. Izzy eased the door closed and took a seat in front of the desk. She hadn’t raised her voice to Tariq, so she didn’t know how much her boss had heard. She decided to bluff. “What can I do for you today?”
Turning her chair to the side, Liz crossed one leg over the other. “How are you doing, Izzy? You’ve seemed extra stressed lately.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Same ol’ same ol’.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.” Liz pursed her lips. “Ever since you got Burker as a client, you’ve been having some problems. I’m worried you’ve extended yourself too far.”
Izzy gripped the armrests. “This is a big project, but I’ve still found time for my regular showings and listings. I’ve even joined Cindy to help her with one of her projects. I’m doing well.”
“And I appreciate your showing Cindy the ropes. But something’s got to give.” Turning her computer screen, Liz pulled up a spreadsheet that showed all of Goldstar Realty’s current clients and who they were assigned to. Izzy’s clients were highlighted in red, and there were a lot of red blocks filling up the spreadsheet.
Liz pointed to a square. “Judd told me that he had to run some title documents for this sale to the recorder’s office for you because they weren’t signed on time.”
“That was one slipup.” Everyone in the office had done that at one time or another.
“And Bitsy told me you were late to an open house two weekends ago.”
“I’d picked up the wrong flyers and had to go back to my house to get the right ones!” Yeesh, she’d still managed to turn that sale, and it was going through escrow as they spoke. Izzy scooted to the edge of her seat. “I’m really appreciative that you’ve given me some flexibility with my time, but I have to say that I feel a bit singled out because I’m a working mother.”
“Bitsy has twins,” Liz pointed out.
Yes, and a husband and a nanny. “I’m the top earner for Goldstar. I think it’s obvious I get my work done.”
“And I want you to stay at the top.” Liz tapped on her keyboard. “I don’t want you to burn out. I’m going to assign some of your smaller listings to other agents. This workload you’ve taken on is crazy big.”
A thread of panic twisted through her gut. She watched as three listings changed from red to blue, yellow, and purple. There went six months of housing for Ana when she went to college. Bye-bye to all four years of textbooks paid for. And that last one, she gulped; there went soccer camp if she didn’t nail down the sale with Burker.
“But…”
“Work on your deal with Tariq.” Liz sat back. “If that gets listed, it will keep you busy for a couple months probably. And then you can go back to carrying five clients at a time.” She said it with a smile, as if she was doing Izzy a favor by lifting a burden. But she was only adding another one. Another worry. That she wouldn’t meet her income goals for the month.
“And we’re still getting calls from people who saw that news story about you. I’ll direct them to other agents until you can take on more clients.” Liz twisted her seat back and forth. “God, I wish more dogs were in trouble for my agents to save. We’ve had the biggest spike in business since that happened.” She chuckled. “People get stupid over dogs.”
As a new dog owner, Izzy wasn’t so sure about that. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to go take her dogs for a walk and tell them her troubles, one of which being they shouldn’t expect the high-end food anymore. Not that Vi ate it anyway. But those dogs would give her comfort over this latest loss as no one else could. And that wasn’t stupid.
Except maybe Brad would be as comforting. He’d say something goofy and make her laugh. And she was starting to look forward to his smiles and the way they warmed her up deep inside. Looked forward to them more than she should.
“Is that all?” Her voice was perhaps a tad more snippy than appropriate when speaking to one’s boss, and Liz sat back.
Liz loosely clasped her hands together on her lap. “Yes, you can go.”
“Thanks.” Izzy nodded goodbye and slipped out the door. She picked up her purse from Tariq’s desk, ignored his open mouth and whatever crap was about to spill out of it, and kept on walking out the door to the parking lot. She climbed into the backseat of her SUV and picked up Jasmine. “Hey, guys. Miss me?”
The puppy wriggled excitedly. Vi lifted her brows, the doggy version of an eye roll. Carrying Jasmine into the front with her, Izzy plopped him on her lap and headed for Forever Friends. Her spirits rose every mile she distanced herself from her office.
And every mile she drew closer to Brad. Would he be in yet, or was he still catching up on sleep?
Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she tried to tamp down her nerves. Something had changed last night. Damn it, he’d made Ana soup because she wasn’t feeling well. How could a woman keep her walls up when a man cooked soup for her daughter?
Knowledge of Burker’s intent to sell was soon to come out, so she wouldn’t be keeping a secret from Brad for much longer. One more brick between them taken down. But he was still a hot mess when it came to his finances. Could she think about a relationship with someone who wasn’t interested in saving? Would he even want to pursue something serious? Maybe Lydia was right. She should stop thinking about serious and just think about having a little fun. As long as she and Brad both acted like adults, they could end things amicably when the time inevitably came, and no one would get hurt, including Ana.
She pulled into the parking lot shared with the dealership and parked next to a cleaned-up Toyota Corolla with a large sticker on the windshield that shouted it was on sale for only $8,400. Opening the back door, she leashed up Vi but kept Jasmine in her arms. The puppy didn’t really understand walking with a leash yet. He was happy to take every opportunity to escape out of the house, but snap a leash on his collar, and he planted his
butt on the ground and made like a statue.
“Come on, Vi.” Izzy patted her leg. “Time to get out.”
Vi slithered a couple of inches on the seat, her belly dragging, and gave up with a huff. She whined softly and flapped her tail once.
“Uh-oh. Are those cupcakes catching up with you?” She patted her thigh again. “You can do it. One small jump and then the doctor will make you feel better.”
Vi rolled to her side.
“Okay, new plan. Wait here.” Gently closing the door, Izzy strode toward the shelter and pushed inside the lobby. There was no one in the reception area, but frantic barking came through the glass windows from the kennels. She skirted the reception desk and headed down the back hall, peering into Brad’s office. Empty.
“He’s taking Hercule for a walk.”
Izzy whipped around. Gabe leaned against the doorjamb to the exam room, wiping his hands on a white cloth.
“Oh.” Disappointment knifed through her. “Well, it’s you I came to see. I was supposed to bring the dogs back for a checkup, but Vi might need more help. She ate an entire tray of cupcakes this morning and now won’t even get out of the car.”
Gabe leaned back into the exam room and tossed the rag on a counter. “You’re parked out front?”
“Yes.” She led him back down the hall and out into the parking lot. Opening the rear door to her SUV, she scratched Vi’s head before stepping back for the vet to examine her. “They were vanilla cupcakes with pink icing.”
“I’m not going to ask her for a review.” He ran his fingers lightly over Vi’s body.
Izzy flushed. “I only meant they weren’t chocolate. I’d heard that was bad for dogs.”
“An entire tray of any flavor cupcake is bad for dogs. You should be more careful where you put your food.” His voice was rough, but the hands he slid under her dog were as gentle as though he held a newborn babe. He murmured something softly to Vi as he lifted her in his arms. Without looking back at Izzy, he strode for the shelter.
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