"I'll see you tomorrow," I said to Dawn, and wheeled Cammy out of the shop. She jingled her bells back at the door.
Chapter 10
Dawn
I was spending too much money on shots. We should have just gotten a bottle and headed back to Jeannine's place. But she wanted to go out, and I needed to get away from the shop. Not to mention her two roommates hated me. I supposed that was my fault. I wasn’t a warm and fuzzy type of person, and when they tried too hard to include me on all the roommate fun I was missing by not living with them, I somehow offended them.
Jeannine thinks it’s because when it was my turn to pick an activity, I brought them down to one of Jack’s gigs. Paula got elbowed in the nose and Margo cracked a rib when someone body slammed her in the mosh pit.
Maybe it was because I laughed and went back to shouting at Jack onstage.
After bickering a bit, Jeannine and I wound up playing darts and pool at the local tavern. It was a dive bar that Rory would want to raze to the ground and replace with a billiards and cigar bar. Still, the tequila was going down rather nice, and I was walking distance from Tantric Books. No one would think twice about me staggering back there instead of driving somewhere drunk.
"You need to get out more," Jeannine said as she scratched the cue ball.
"I know. I just can't afford to hire someone part time right now. Not with your boss and his asshole cronies trying to fry my ass." I took the ball out of the pocket and lined up my shot.
"You've been saying that as long as I've known you. Twelve-hour days, seven days a week. You'd be better off waitressing."
"No, thank you." I missed, so I had to do a shot. The salt tingled on my tongue, but I wasn't tasting the lemon anymore. That might be a problem. "I'm not a people person. One jerkoff would start on me about his steak not being rare enough and I'd dump it on his head."
Jeannine actually made her next shot and took a swig of her beer. "You could always go back to school. I bet you'd be a good therapist."
I snorted. "I need a good therapist." I closed one eye and tried to focus on the ball. It must be my lucky day, because it went in. "Whoo!" I did a little dance and immediately regretted it. I should sit down. I leaned against the table instead.
"I'm worried about you. I'm worried those assholes will escalate the situation. I can't believe you were robbed yesterday."
"Almost robbed. And I'm making a bank deposit every day before the bank closes so it's not worth anyone's time to go after the till."
"Shhh," she spluttered over the table. "Don't talk about shit like that in here."
"Right,” I closed my eyes and nodded. I wished I was on a nice yacht right now.
"Me too," Jeannine said, and I realized I said the last part aloud. "Your turn."
"What color am I again?"
"Stripes."
"Right."
I missed the shot. I blinked at the shot glass and asked myself, "Am I going to hurl?" Getting the negative, I forwent the salt and lemon because why bother? And tossed it back. It tasted like water. I was going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow morning.
"I can't believe you're fucking the enemy," Jeannine said.
"It's a bit of a surprise to me too."
"How did it happen?"
I hitched a hip up on the table and missed the shot. "I think it all started in high school.”
Jeannine snorted. “He was too old for you back then.”
“Tell that to my little freshman heart. Anyway, he emailed me earlier this year wanting to reconnect.”
“You connected?” She squinted at me.
“Not unless you count me doodling on my notebook and drooling over him in the stands during his lacrosse games connecting.”
“Not even a little?” Jeannine made a crude gesture with her hands.
“Not even a little.” I shook my head sadly. “Anyway, we went back and forth, flirting in emails for a few months. I guess it was flirting." I drank some more beer. "It was more like fighting. I was having a rough time with Jack."
"There's another asshole. Have you heard from him lately?"
"Are you kidding me? He's probably baked in the van surrounded by groupie pussy somewhere on Long Island."
"You should have had him arrested."
"I knew better, but I opened a joint account with him anyway." I banked two balls on one shot. Unfortunately, one had been Jeannine's.
"He's a fucking douche bag. I hope his dick rots off."
I was glad she was on my side.
"So why did you go from grunge metal Jack to preppy Rory? He's totally not your type. I mean, don't get me wrong. He's gorgeous, rich, and looks like he knows his way around the clitoris."
I nodded.
"It's that he's trying to change our town into some rich folks' playground. Fuck them. I have to live here the rest of the year."
"Right?" I agreed.
"I mean, it's bad enough they fuck up traffic on Main Street. Try to get into town and back on lunch during July. Forget it. Now I hear he's going to oust Town Pizza for a joint that uses tofu or some crap in the crust."
"What?" I took a swig of beer. "That's crazy talk."
"You need to wallop some sense into your man."
"He's not my man. We're just fucking."
"Well, fucking leads to dating."
"I think you've got that backward."
"And next thing you know, you're going to be going to Thanksgiving at the Parkers’ mansion."
I nearly snorted Corona out of my nostrils. "Yeah, picture that fiasco."
"Holy shit," Jeannine said.
"Mmm?" I pried open an eye to see what had caught her attention.
"Is that your sister?"
My head whipped around so fast I almost got whiplash. I did get nauseous. "I'm going to sit down." I hobbled to our booth and slid in. Holy shit, indeed, it was the protocol sister herself. "Hi, Stephanie," I called out drunkenly.
She turned, and her eyes widened. She looked around like she was expecting our parents to be there too. I snorted. Not bloody likely. Hurrying over, she scooted into the booth. I looked over to see what Jeannine was up to and saw she was kissing Fred, the fire chief.
So much for girls’ night out.
"What are you doing here?" Stephanie asked.
"Playing pool and drinking tequila shots. Want one?"
"No."
"Probably for the best." I nodded sagely. "I've had one too many. Where's Drew?"
"He's home with the kids," she said tightly.
"Why are you slumming it here?"
"This isn't really the time to be discussing this," she said.
Her eyes were darting around the bar and it was making me dizzy.
"Are you meeting someone?"
"Dawn, please don't tell anyone." She gripped my hand while I looked at her numbly.
"Who would I tell?"
"Thanks. I'll talk to you later."
"Um, Okay." I watched as she darted deeper into the bar. She wasn't the darts type, and for a moment I thought I should follow her to make sure she was going to be all right. But then I figured, fuck it, she was probably meeting friends. Stephanie wouldn't soil her gloves in this place for any other reason. She'd be more at home with Rory's family than I would ever be. Not that that would happen in a million years. His father would have a heart attack.
I glanced over at Jeannine, saw it was getting hot and heavy between her and Fred. So unless I wanted to cock block, I was on my own. The hell of it was it was barely midnight. I wanted to be out at least until two. Staggering up to the bar, I paid off my tab and flirted with Rick, the bartender. Or at least I think I flirted. I might have burped a few times while I settled up. I tipped to make up for the tequila breath and headed for the door.
"Dawn, you need me to call you a cab?" Rick asked.
"Nah," I said. "I'll go back to the shop and sober up before heading home." The lie came easily to me, even in my impaired state.
"You want me to get one of the
guys to walk you over? I heard about the break-in last night."
I shook my head. "They won't try again so soon."
"Well, if you're sure . . ."
"Have a nice night, Rick." I waved and pushed out of the bar. The quiet hit my ears as soon as I was a block away. I could see lights on at the far end of the street where some boaters were still partying. I turned back toward town and shivered a bit in the chilly midnight air. I wasn't afraid. Haven was quiet at night, even down by the docks. Sure, there were bad elements, but it never seemed to touch the town. About halfway back to the shop, the cat caught up with me, and we made the trek together.
"How was your night?" I asked her.
She meowed an answer, but I was too drunk to understand her. I wished I had an apartment. She could have one of those carpet cat trees and her own food and water dish. I could have a tub and take all the bubble baths I wanted. Maybe I would splurge on a towel warmer.
I snorted and had to lean against the door to the bookstore while I laughed.
If I had my own place, I could be messy and not have to worry about someone catching me living where I wasn't supposed to. I could bake cookies and lasagna and freeze the leftovers. Letting myself in, I double locked the doors behind me and the cat. Staggering over to the back room, I glared at that lumpy, uncomfortable futon. I missed having a big bed to stretch out on and a closet for my clothes.
Damn tequila. Made my eyes water.
Chapter 11
Rory
I called Tantric Books at ten on the dot the next morning. It was a beautiful day and I was enjoying fresh ground coffee and a breakfast buffet that a local catering company I was trying out had brought over. I was saving most of it for tomorrow, but I couldn't resist the cheese Danishes. Kicking back in my lounge chair, I watched a seagull trying for a fish. The phone rang about ten times before Dawn answered.
"Tantric Books," she whispered.
"You need to give me your cellphone number." I felt the need to whisper back to her. It was almost as if she was next to me.
"Why?" she whispered.
"So I can call you when the shop is closed."
"Why?"
"Okay, you got me. I just want to sext you," I said in a normal tone. "Good morning, sunshine. I've been thinking about your ass."
"I don't have time for this shit this morning."
"You sound a little grumpy. Hard night?"
"Tequila hangover."
"Ouch," I said, wincing. "I'll tell you what. I'm sending over breakfast. What do you say to a Bloody Mary and some eggs and bacon?"
"How about a yogurt and a granola bar and lots of orange juice."
"Really?" I couldn't imagine a more revolting breakfast.
She grunted.
"You're the boss."
I hung up and placed the order for delivery. I owed her for the bells and for making the outing with Cammy a qualified success. Maybe next time we'd go to a museum or something. I made a note to get some DVDs that Cammy might be interested in. Now that she was up and about, she'd want something more stimulating to watch than daytime television.
I had to interview a few masseuses today. A tough job, but someone had to do it. I was hoping to convince Dawn to have a few come in for a wellness day for her. It would bring in some traffic and maybe she could sell some of that high-end hand cream and face shit that all the chicks went crazy for. I remembered spending three hundred dollars on a set for my mother one Christmas. The spa had to be making serious margin on that. How expensive could goat milk be, anyway?
Also on the horizon was talking Dawn into letting Millie and Jeannine watch the store for her on Monday so I could take her into the city and show her the products she should be selling. And while we were in Manhattan, maybe going out to see a play, dinner, drinks, and wild sex in the limo back to Connecticut. With any other woman I've ever dated, this would be a done deal. With Dawn it would be like playing a game of chess.
Unfortunately, I was having a hard time getting coverage for her store on Monday.
Jeannine seemed to be suffering from the same tequila hangover as Dawn. "I'm sorry, Mr. Parker, but I work until five. I'd be glad to hop on over and work at Tantric until closing, but I couldn't get there before five thirty."
"Let's plan on that for Monday."
"Um, okay. Does Dawn know about this?"
"No, and neither does my father, so don't spoil the surprise."
"All right."
Millie was a little bit easier to convince, but she didn't want to be there for more than a couple of hours. "I get overwhelmed. And if it's possible, I'd rather do around lunchtime. I don't want the responsibility of opening or closing."
That left a lot of hours to deal with. In the end, I called my secretary, Bridgette, in New York. "I need you to come down to Connecticut and work a retail shop on Monday."
"What?" she said.
"I know. You can take the limo. It'll pick you up at 7 a.m. I'll need you there until 5:30 and it'll take you back."
"Why me?"
"Because you're all that I've got in the area who I trust."
She sighed.
"Meals are on me. You'll be home by eight and you can come in late on Tuesday."
"What's the dress code like?"
"New Age flake," I said.
Bridgette laughed. "Can I wear my tie-dye shirt and Birkenstocks?"
"I honestly don't give a fuck. Can you ring a cash register?"
"How hard can it be?"
"Good point. Schedule the limo to meet you outside your apartment."
"I'm stocking it with the good coffee and doughnuts from The Beanery."
"Knock yourself out. While you're at it, I need you to find a tea shop for me in Loonsbury, Connecticut. It used to be called Tea Towne, but I'm not sure what the new name is. Find them and see if they have a thirty-day sampler kit and send it to Dawn Nolan at Tantric Books. That's the place you'll be working on Monday."
"Tantric Books, huh? Sounds kinky."
"It is. Can you handle it?"
"Not a problem, sir."
"Good. I'll see you Monday morning."
I finished my Danish and put the rest of the breakfast into the fridge. I scheduled the cleaning crew to come to the yacht this afternoon and gave orders for the chef on how I wanted the surf and turf done tonight. Big Maine lobsters, juicy T-bone steaks, fluffy baked Idaho potatoes, and asparagus spears au gratin.
I called Dawn back a few hours later.
"Tantric Books," she said, sounding slightly more alive.
"What do you want for lunch?"
"A stomach pump."
"Hmmm, I have a really rich dinner planned for us tonight. I need you better so you can enjoy it."
"I'll be fine."
"Cheesecake or tiramisu?"
"You on a budget?" she quipped with her usual flair. "Both, duh."
"As you wish."
I sent over some mushroom risotto for lunch hoping that would help fortify her stomach.
When the cleaning crew got here, I took off for a few hours. I wanted to talk to the Clinton selectmen to see if they were interested having me develop their dock area with new shops. Then, I had to go apply pressure on another of Haven's holdouts. This one was ready to crack.
After being given the bureaucratic runaround by Clinton politicians, I was ready for some easy pickings. I pulled up a few blocks away from Tantric Books and walked into the Knautical Knitter. The shop was quaint, in an old lady sort of way. There was a wall of yarn sorted by shade and bins of sale yarn. Another wall was full of needles and contraptions.
"Hello, Mr. Parker."
Selene O'Toole was the proprietor and she regarded me like I was a rattlesnake. I smiled at her, hoping my usual charm would disarm her. Unfortunately, she wasn't falling for my bullshit, which was a pity.
"I was wondering if you had considered my offer."
"I'm considering it," she said. "Can I get you a cup of tea?"
What is it with this town and
tea? "No, thanks. Was there something I could do to sweeten the deal any further for you?"
"I'm an old woman, Mr. Parker."
Here we go.
"And I'm set in my ways."
I pasted a pleasant expression on my face and nodded encouragingly.
"I don't have the inclination to move my whole life around, and I'm not ready to retire."
"What if I hired a moving crew that could pack up this place and set it back up in a new locale over a weekend?"
"In addition to the current buyout terms?"
She was a shrewd old broad. I liked her. "Yes. I will buy out your lease from your landlord. I will hand you a check for one hundred thousand dollars."
She held up a finger. "Money order."
I bowed my head as if she caught me trying to get away with something. "Of course. And I will close this shop Friday night and have it set up as close to this as possible Monday morning."
"I need high-speed Internet and cable at the new place as well."
"Done." I held out my hand. "Can we do this weekend?"
Selene's eyes widened. "So soon?"
"You don't have to lift a finger. I hand you the keys and you drive to Westbrook to your brand-new store, closer to your home and in a nicer neighborhood."
"You said there was air-conditioning and heat."
"Of course." It was a strain to keep up the pleasant act.
"And it's clean?""
"Mrs. O'Toole, why don't we go for a ride and you can see the shop again?"
She peered out into the parking lot. "That cherry-red convertible yours?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Let me grab my shawl. Peter, I need you to watch the store."
At least Mrs. O'Toole had a sales clerk. Or maybe it was her husband. I didn't care. I was about to close another deal. That left two more shops, not including Dawn's.
Chapter 12
Dawn
Rory walked through the door at 8 p.m. exactly, jazzed up and smiling like he was on top of the world, which I guess as a billionaire, he probably was. He was so hot I had to check my smile. I didn’t want him to think I was a pushover, but damn, the way he looked at me did things to my insides that made me all jittery and nervous.
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