But it was a damned good plan. One she could have thought about for a week and not polished as much as Quinn had in a few hours. Was she so hung up on her own defenses she couldn’t admit Quinn had had a good idea? Did letting her in really mean part of herself had to be bumped out? What if they really could work well together? Her chest tightened at the prospect of letting herself get used to having her around. Getting used to someone meant she’d be in a position to miss her when she left. And women like Quinn always left . . . didn’t they? Whatever was happening between them had never been solely about the food or the business, but it didn’t have to be a long-term commitment, either. This was a weekend of freedom or whims or living in the moment, and in this moment she wanted nothing more than to see what she and Quinn could really do together.
“All right,” she said, trying to keep her excitement at bay. “Looks like I need to go shopping, and you need to figure out where we can get poker chips in Ptown.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Quinn smiled one of those natural smiles that made Hal feel crazy for even putting her off as long as she did. She loved the moments where the businesswoman faded away and the real, pure Quinn showed through. She’d seen a lot more of her on this trip. Even now, when the businesswoman was clearly still present, she saw the real Quinn just below the veneer. She couldn’t find cold and calculating anywhere, forcing her to admit maybe Quinn did care about more than she’d initially given her credit for. Her resolve to stay neutral softened.
“It’s a good plan, Quinn, as solid as any research plan ever gets in the food truck business, but instead of being clinical, it’s fun and social. People will like it, and we’ll get fast results. You’ve got a good mind for these things. You know that, right?”
“I used to think I did. I used to think I could jump right into any situation with charts and graphs and spreadsheets. I thought I could look at the numbers the way a gambler looks at a poker hand, calculate the odds, and place my bet accordingly.”
Hal leaned forward again, captivated once more by the pensiveness in Quinn’s tone and the openness in her eyes. “And now?”
“Now I realize there’s a human element. I’m not sure I’m as good at quantifying that. I messed up with you pretty badly, especially early on.” Quinn clasped her hands in her lap tightly, as if trying not to fidget. “I guess I’m still a little nervous about making a similar mistake again.”
Hal sighed, knowing it had likely taken a lot for Quinn to admit what she had, and Hal hadn’t helped the situation. They had fun toying with each other in so many areas, sometimes everything could feel like a game. And yet she knew that wasn’t really the case. Quinn had emotions at stake here no matter how much she tried to deny them. Now, for the first time, she realized Quinn might have a couple of major insecurities of her own. She’d worked hard to make her place in a world where no one seemed to want to notice her. She’d fought hard for every bit of security she’d obtained and done so without the support of her family or a partner or even close friends. And now she’d reached out to Hal, asked to be included, offered up her best in the hopes of being accepted.
“Quinn, you don’t have to be nervous with me. I’ve made some mistakes too. We’ve both moved on.”
“Have we really?”
“We have to,” Hal said. If Quinn could open up, so could she. “I like you. I don’t always agree with you, but I like hearing your ideas. I like sharing mine with you. And in order for us to do that freely, we’re going to have to be a little more vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable?” Quinn grimaced. “Neither one of us is good at vulnerable.”
“No, you’re probably right. But we get that about each other. We know where the resistance came from and how it feels. At least we can be honest with each other.”
“Okay. Then I want to be your partner today. I want to know that no matter what happens between us when this weekend ends, something real and tangible and good came out of our time together, even if it’s just a new sandwich.”
Things were getting heavier than she’d intended, but she’d told Quinn at the start of this trip that if a desire struck her, all she had to do was ask. Sure, she’d thought those desires would hover in the arenas of shopping or sightseeing, but if what Quinn really wanted was to be part of something new, something creative, something they could share, then that’s what Hal wanted to give her.
“All right then, partners for the day.” Hal extended her hand across the table, and Quinn accepted with a firm handshake, sending a jittery bolt of excitement through her. “Let’s do it.”
They’d chosen the parking lot at Race Point Beach as their testing grounds because it seemed to be one of the busiest spots in town without a restaurant anywhere nearby. The steady stream of holiday revelers through the dune paths had rewarded them generously. By one o’clock they were nearing the end of their supplies.
“What do you want to do, Chef?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t think we can get any more meat very fast.”
Hal had shopped the local wholesale markets for as much fresh lobster chunk meat as she could find, and then spent almost two hours hand-shelling some more. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than the freshest ingredients, and Quinn didn’t blame her, but it meant they had no quick fixes. Still, they’d sold a shocking amount of food since eleven a.m. and fed more than their fair share of beachgoers.
Hal shook out the lock of dark hair that always fell over her eyes. Quinn wondered briefly why she didn’t get that cut. Then she remembered how sexy she’d found the little head toss and smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She turned back to hand another sandwich to a waiting customer. They were selling only one item today, though, so she didn’t have to take orders as much as payment, which left her a bit of time between buyers.
“You smiled,” Hal said. “We’re almost out of food, and you’re smiling. This was your baby too, partner.”
Quinn bit her lip. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is very serious.”
“Then why were you smiling?”
“Because of you,” she said exasperatedly. “You did the little hair flip thing you do when you’re frustrated, and it really turns me on.”
“Oh.” Hal blushed. “Well, that’s pretty serious too.”
“Yeah, but as you pointed out, dwindling lobstah meat is also a pressing issue.”
“What else were you thinking on that front?”
“We’ve made a lot of money in a short period of time.”
“Almost eight hundred?”
“Really? You’ve done the math in your head while cooking?”
“I did the math before we priced the food,” Hal said casually. “You’re not the only one who can add and subtract around here.”
“Okay, say your math is right, and I agree it’s probably pretty close,” Quinn admitted, once again impressed with Hal’s business sense. “That’s a good day’s profit. It’s also enough to let us get a sense of what people like best in the sandwich.”
“You’re right, as usual.”
“From a business standpoint, it’s been a hugely successful day. But . . .” Quinn said, finally letting go of her business brain for a second so her heart could have a chance to speak, “I don’t want to stop.”
Hal laughed. “Uh-oh, it’s in your blood now.”
“I think it might be,” she admitted. “You were right about this whole feeding people thing. I love seeing them happy and talking about our food. They love it, and they love us, and I love them for loving us. It’s a good system.”
“You’re such a benevolent ruler.”
“No, no, I’m like Macklemore. I didn’t do this for a throne.”
“So you get your validation from the people?” Hal chuckled. “I guess the ceiling really can’t hold you.”
“Kind of feels that way.”
“The adoration is addictive,” Hal said seriously.
“It’s a drug. I don’t want to disappoint all those people still waiting to try our masterpiece.”
“Well Jesus did say, ‘feed my sheep.’”
“See,” Quinn said, handing another two sandwiches out the window. “We’re answering a holy call.”
“I love how you quote rappers and I quote the Bible.”
“Don’t try to typecast me, Fryboi. I’m a banker. That’s just like one degree of separation from gangster, only instead of robbing liquor stores, we crash all of Wall Street.”
Hal laughed while she flipped another two mismatched sandwiches into trays and Quinn lined up a couple more payments.
A whoop whoop of a police siren sounded somewhere very close, causing her to jump.
“Uh-oh,” Hal said.
“What do you mean ‘uh-oh?’”
Hal’s smile was exaggerated and nervous.
“Hal . . .”
“You were just boasting about your gangsta cred, right?”
“Hal . . .”
“What? You’ve never had a run-in with the fuzz?”
“No. Never.” Her palms started to sweat.
“Well, just think of them like the IRS without the pocket protectors.”
“Why do I have to think about them at all?”
A knock pounded on the metal door at the back of the truck.
“There’s always a possibility we’re double parked, but I’m willing to bet they want to see our permit.”
“Then show it to them.”
Hal smiled the same nauseatingly fake smile, and Quinn sighed heavily, her mind already running damage control. No permit. Of course, it’s a Saturday on a holiday weekend. They put the whole thing together in a couple hours. Why didn’t she see it?
A knock sounded again, louder and more rushed.
“Keep serving,” Quinn ordered. “Run out as much as you can of what’s left.”
Hal nodded and tossed eight more pieces of bread on the griddle as Quinn squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and swung open the door.
“Hello, officers,” Quinn said.
Hal marveled at the way her voice dripped with honey despite the flash of anger she’d seen flash across her face.
“What can I do for you on this beautiful holiday?” Quinn asked.
One of the cops peeked her head inside. She was classically tall, dark, and handsome, not to mention butch as hell. Hal rolled her eyes. Must be a sweet gig for a dyke in uniform around these parts.
“Do you have a permit to be serving food on public property?” the other cop asked. Hal couldn’t see her, and she didn’t dare go get a closer look. Quinn had accepted money for several more sandwiches, and she intended to fill those orders for as long as she could.
“You know, we tried to look into those this morning, officer, but the city employees seem to be enjoying the same holiday festivities as everyone else, and rightly so I might add.”
“Ma’am, this is a national park.”
“Well that’s comforting to know. Spaces like this are so rare. It’s good that we as a society are preserving them, don’t you think?”
Hal snorted, causing the less-talkative officer to look in again.
“So you don’t have a permit?”
“Some places don’t require them. Did you know we’re down here all the way from Buffalo? It’s a much different system up there.” Quinn made an admirable attempt to redirect. She was quick and convincing as she laid on the bullshit. A wash of pride bubbled up in Hal’s chest. She almost sounded like she knew what she was talking about. “We don’t really get weather like this up there, either.”
“Ma’am, you can’t sell food here without a permit and an inspection from the health department.” Officer Strong and Steady wouldn’t bite.
“Oh, well, thank you for letting us know. Do you have a phone number for those offices? We’ll try to get ahold of them.”
“They aren’t open today.”
Hal slid four more trays up to people waiting at the window and set to work assembling four more. If she worked fast enough and Quinn kept working her magical stall tactics, she might actually get them out in time.
“Well the thing is, we’re in town only for one more day. We’re not intending to set up shop. We’re actually conducting some culinary research.”
“Does that research involve selling food on a public beach? Because that would require a permit.”
“You are a tenacious one, aren’t you?” Quinn said with a light laugh. “I like that in a woman.”
Hal clenched her jaw. Stalling was one thing, flirting was another.
“We’re going to have to shut you down, ma’am.”
“Really?” Quinn asked. “Let’s think outside the box for a moment. Are you sure there’s no way to work something out?”
“Not unless you can produce a permit and a health inspection certificate.”
“Would it surprise you if I did?”
“It would,” the officer said.
“And you know what? It surprised me a little bit that I couldn’t give you that,” Quinn said, her tone lower, more serious, and genuine enough to make the hair on Hal’s arm stand up. “I’m new to this business. My partner is the pro. She keeps telling me she’s got everything under control, and I took her at her word. Imagine how I feel to find out from you that she might not have been upfront with me about what exactly constitutes ‘under control’ in her world.”
Hal glanced out to see the officer shake her head. Her profile was commanding, tall, with broad shoulders and a sharply pressed khaki uniform. Probably had a real stick up her ass, too.
“Lack of communication on your end doesn’t really change the facts of the situation from my end.”
Hal rolled her eyes at the cop’s attempt to basically say she didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole.
“I understand. Let me ask you, though, just on a personal note. You have a partner here, and she’s handsome as can be.” Quinn flashed a smile at the younger cop, and Hal felt her face contort in an uncomfortable scowl. “How do you navigate those little differences of opinion that might, say for instance, leave one of you cool and collected while the other one scrambles to cover someone else’s ass?”
“Ma’am,” the officer said calmly, “we have a clear chain of command and strict protocol.”
Quinn practically moaned in pleasure. “Sounds divine. How do you go about instituting something like that?”
“We’ll clear out now.” Hal tossed two more sandwiches onto the counter and cut the power to the griddle. She’d heard enough. She plated the other two sandwiches and walked to the back of the truck, where she finally got her first full-on view of the senior officer. She was tan, with hair not quite as dark as the younger one’s and cut just off her collar. She turned to scan Hal, her eyes nearly as cool and blue as Quinn’s. Good looking. Too damn good looking if you asked her.
“Sorry to bother you, officers. We’ll pack up and head out right away. Can we leave these with you for your trouble?” She offered up the sandwiches.
“We really can’t take gifts.”
“It’s not a bribe or a penalty payment. You just told us we can’t serve any more, and these are already made.”
The younger one looked at the other, who shook her head almost unperceptibly.
“Why don’t you two keep them for yourself?” Officer Blue Eyes said, not unkindly, then turning her attention fully to Hal added, “Seems like you might have some making up to do.”
“Thanks for sharing that insight,” she said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. She didn’t need help with Quinn, especially not from another straight-laced rule slave.
“Yes, thank you, officers,” Quinn added in her sickly sweet professional appeasement voice.
“We’ll just wait and make sure you get everything packed up all right.”
“How very considerate of you,” Hal said. “We’ll return the favor by working as quickly as possible. If you want to help us along
, maybe you can go explain to all those people waiting out front why they don’t get lunch today.”
She jumped back into the truck without a backward glance. She slammed the front window, cranked up some Fall Out Boy on the inside speaker, then set to work securing what little bits of food they had leftover.
Hal had everything stowed and half the griddle cleaned before Quinn finally joined her. Quinn had managed to project calm and collected on the outside, but now that the confrontation with the police had passed, her hands shook. She’d never been in trouble in her life, certainly not to the level of the police being called. She didn’t even have a speeding ticket. Well, she’d been pulled over, but she’d always made easy work of talking herself down to a warning. She’d thought she’d be able to do the same here, especially given how clearly gay the cops were. Who would’ve thought, lesbians she couldn’t bring around to her side of things. She must be slipping. They’d actually shut them down. All the embarrassment and frustration she’d held at bay in the moment burned her cheeks and tightened her jaw now. She’d been set up to fail.
“Well that was enlightening.”
“It happens,” Hal said, still scrubbing.
“Really?” Quinn asked. “Cause I’ve been in my job for about thirteen years and never once have the police come and shut me down.”
“You could’ve fooled me with the way you handled them.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe there’s something about cops that taps into something about bankers,” Hal said harshly. “Some authority figure camaraderie thing? You guys got cozy real fast.”
“Excuse me?” She couldn’t believe this. Hal had failed to secure the necessary permits, while she at least managed to buy them an extra ten minutes, she should’ve been welcomed like a returning hero, not a traitor. “I bought you time.”
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