His mother frowned.
“Mom, she refinanced her house to help me pay off my debts. I’m not letting her do that, so she’s mad at me.”
“Do you know that her husband just walked away when Addie was born? And that was after her father left them when she was just a teenager?”
“She told me. But, Mom it’s more complicated than just all the debris in my life. It’s her. Sandy doesn’t understand anything that isn’t part of her plan. Which seems to consist of putting a responsible man in her life because the others have flaked out on her.”
“And you’re not that man?”
“No. At least not now. And she’s an immediate kind of woman. She wants what she wants, and she doesn’t want to wait for it. Usually, I’m not a man to be talked over, ridden over or shoved over. Jennifer managed to do that to me when I wasn’t looking, but nobody’s going to do that to me again.”
“Hunter. You’re not comparing Sandy with Jennifer.”
He was now exhausted. “Of course not,” he said wearily. “But Sandy is pushy, and I’m in no mood to be pushed right now. Good night, Mom. I’ll run your numbers through the computer and let you know what comes up.”
Her voice followed him down her front walk. “Then how will you do the Clothes Closet opening together? It’s already been announced in the paper.”
Several bad words raced through his mind. “We’re adults,” he replied over his shoulder. “And neither one of us cares about us anymore. We’ll be able to focus on the project. Good night.”
Depression sought to pummel him as he drove home, but he fought it off. He would pay off his debts and start over. He figured getting square with the world would take him another five years. Thirty-nine wasn’t too old to pull his life together.
His apartment on Grand Avenue was dark and cool when he got in. He flipped on lights, then turned on the television in the small living room furnished with a brown tweed sofa and chair from his old place and a coffee table he’d gotten from Goodwill. He went into the kitchen to nuke a cup of coffee. The landlord had called the kitchen small and efficient, everything within easy reach, when he’d shown him the place. Hunter should have realized it was a warning that he’d always be slamming into a cupboard door he’d left open or banging his knee on a drawer. But the rent was reasonable, the other tenants pleasant and quiet. He could do this for five more years. He looked out his window to the lights on a freighter at anchor in the river and the nostalgia of early evening overtook him. Leaning against the window molding, he felt as though his stomach had caved in.
Five years was a long time to be lonely.
CHAPTER FOUR
SANDY STOOD IN the middle of the dark, overcrowded box that was Crazy for Coffee and, inexplicably, felt her small world open up. She smiled at Bjorn, who watched her a little worriedly. He was in his early forties and going home to Chicago to help his parents manage their deli because his father was in poor health. She bought a caramel-vanilla latte from Bjorn a couple of mornings a week, and he was a client of the law firm she used to work for, so she knew him fairly well. They’d had a long talk on the phone the night before.
“What’s the matter, Sandy?” he asked. “Are you claustrophobic? Because if you are, you’ll go nuts in here.”
“I’m not claustrophobic,” she assured him. She held up the folder he’d given her with the last two years’ tax returns and several other financial reports. “I’m very, very interested.”
“Okay, I don’t mean to be nosy, but how will the law office get along without you?”
“Easily, I think. They let me go. So, I’m looking for something else. Be nice to be my own boss for a change.”
Her research showed that a coffee cart had relatively small operating costs, an easily sold product, and a good profit margin. She figured that with careful management and hard work, she could do this, and do it well. She had confidence in her ability to make anything work. Well, she didn’t seem that great with relationships, but she could make everything else work.
He laughed at her. “Owning your own business definitely has its perks, but you’re It in a crisis. Or any other time, really. There’s no one else to turn to when you have a problem. Are you ready for that?”
She shrugged. “It’s just like parenting, or owning a home, or living your life. You’re It, the last word. I have a lot of experience being It.” She looked around herself and nodded. “I’d like to buy Crazy for Coffee, Bjorn.” Since Hunter didn’t want a future with her, she’d set out bravely on her own.
“You would?” He appeared surprised, then probably realizing that was not good salesmanship, added quickly, “Don’t you want to see the books? Talk to my accountant? Sales are up about 12 percent since I bought the business two years ago.”
“I did a little research on you and the business. And whenever I come for coffee in the morning, I’m usually fourth or fifth in line, so I know you have the customer base. And you can’t beat the location, on a concrete slab allowing access on both sides, right on 101 and just off the bridge.” She gazed at the supplies, the bottles of syrups, the refrigerator filled with cream, milk, fruit and other necessities. “Does the price include the inventory?”
“No. But I can tally that tonight when I close and give you a final figure in the morning.” He excused himself to respond to a honk at the north window, quickly prepared a mocha grande, handed it out the window, then dropped a few bills and a handful of change into the register.
She held out her hand. “So, we have a deal?”
“We have a deal.” He took her hand and shook it. “Great.” Then he looked troubled. “My lawyer is one of your bosses. Your former bosses. Are you okay with meeting me there tomorrow to draw up the papers?”
“Sure. I’ll have a check for you. When did you want to turn it over to me?”
“The first of June is in eight days. Does that work? What about employees? I do mornings, and two high school girls come in in the afternoon. They’re pretty reliable and from the feedback I’ve gotten, they make good drinks. They just have to be reminded not to chat too long with friends driving through. Since school shuts down for the summer in two weeks, you can schedule them earlier in the day instead of just afternoons.”
“Great. I’ll keep them on if they want to stay. Think I can learn the ropes in that short a time?”
“Of course you can. But you realize how it is. You won’t officially know it all until you’ve worked it for a couple of months.”
They agreed to meet at her old office the following afternoon as soon as his staffer came on after school.
Sandy had dropped the girls off early at daycare, and went home to take a quiet moment and make a list of all she should do today. At home she sat down at the kitchen table and wrote: “acquire a couple of pairs of jeans and shirts to work in, transfer money out of savings, buy something pretty” (since it would probably be the last thing she’d be able to buy herself for some time to come), “tell Mom and Bobbie that I now own a business and see if Mom will help with the girls, take a long walk and appreciate that freedom.” There would probably be precious little for a while.
For Zoey and Addie, this would be the same as when she worked in an office all day—possibly even a little better, because she’d be home slightly earlier. Of course, she’d have to leave earlier to be ready to open at five o’clock.
A loud knock on her front door startled her out of her strategy planning. She pulled the door open, thinking it might be UPS with the Cars bedspread and pillow she’d ordered for Addie’s birthday.
It wasn’t UPS. It was Hunter.
* * *
HUNTER WASN’T PREPARED for the pretty picture she made against her blue door. Her red hair was caught up in a knot, long, straight strands of it falling to her chin. Her cheeks were flushed, her brown eyes alight as though something had
already brightened her day. She wore a white sweater, and white always made her look somehow molten.
“Ah...” He had to think a minute. He’d come over because he required some information from her, but he hadn’t expected her to look so...cheerful. He was getting the distance from her he sought, but it put him in a pit of depression. He really missed her. Why was she happy? “I know I’m the last person you want to see today, but the Food Bank called me at the office this morning and wanted a date for the opening of the Clothes Closet. And the Daily A said they could get us sponsored advertising, but, again, we need a date. We have to talk about these things.”
“I suppose we should.” She sounded halfhearted. “But, I’m sorry, I have a lot going on today, and I...”
“Sandy, come on. I have to be able to depend on you for this. You’re the one who volunteered us. The Food Bank said they couldn’t reach you. What’s happening? If you’re going to pout about the breakup, tell me now so I can make other plans.” He was sure that would get her. She couldn’t stand accusations of a childish display, couldn’t stand being disconnected from the goings-on.
“I am not pouting,” she denied, a little royal indignation in her attitude, “and I’d like to help, but you’ll have to cut me a little slack. I’ve had a slight change of plans.”
“What plans?”
“You know. Life plans.”
“How so? I have another big project I could really use your help on.” He hesitated, plotting how best to approach her about Connolly’s gift. “What kind of slack do you need?” he asked at the same moment that she asked, “What big project?”
“You first,” she told him. “What big project?”
“Astoria has a benefactor,” he blurted, sure it topped her news.
She focused on him more intently, suddenly interested. She even stepped out onto the porch. “What do you mean? Who?”
He explained about his client, the man’s previous visit to Astoria when he’d been treated so kindly, then his sale of the dessert product for big money and his retirement to Astoria. Honoring Connolly’s wish, he kept other details to himself.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“He wants me to distribute a million dollars to our nonprofits. I thought since you’ve raised money for most of them at one time or other, you’d be a good resource for the project.”
Her mouth fell open. It was a lovely, supple mouth. He could almost feel it on his own. But—then—words would come out of it and ruin everything.
“A million...?”
“Yes. Do you want to help or not?”
She cocked her head and scolded, “Who wouldn’t want to help since you asked so nicely?” Then her look became troubled. “But my situation’s changed a little and I...I’m not sure if I can.”
“So you said. But, how? What’s changed?”
“I just bought Crazy for Coffee!” she said, appearing a little surprised by her own news.
He was stunned. Bjorn Nielsen was his client. So, she was the caller Bjorn had told him was interested in his coffee cart. Hunter had gone into the office at four in the morning to run off reports he then delivered to Crazy for Coffee.
Sandy was changing her life? He was no longer involved with her so that shouldn’t bother him, but he knew how she was—headstrong and impulsive and impervious to suggestion. Small business was a killer of dreams ninety percent of the time.
“Have you thought this through?” he asked.
Immediately her expression turned defensive. She folded her arms. “Of course I have.”
“What if you lose everything?”
“Thank you for your expression of faith in me,” she replied. “It’s so nice to know that after all we’ve meant to each other...”
He held a hand up to stop her. He was a little amazed when it worked. “What I meant was, have you investigated the business?” He knew Crazy for Coffee was sound, but that could change in a month with careless management. She’d never be deliberately careless, but things could happen she might not be prepared for. “There’s a lot to...”
“I saw his tax returns, his P&L and balance sheets.”
“Good. What about lease assignments?”
“What?”
“Lease assignments. Bjorn happens to be one of Raleigh and Raleigh’s clients. I handle his account. As I recall, he leases a few things. You’re responsible for taking those over. That’ll add to your monthly expenses.”
“Oh.” Her eyes narrowed. He suspected she hadn’t thought of that. “We’re meeting at my old office tomorrow. I used to work for lawyers, remember? They’ll make sure everything’s covered.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Used to work for lawyers? You mean you’ve already quit?”
“No, I mean they fired me.”
“What?” His annoyance at that news matched her mother’s and made up a bit for the “what if you lose everything” remark. “Why?”
“It’s a long story that involves the economy, office politics and a new partner’s secretary who can do her job and mine. Hence, the coffee cart.”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. He knew she’d loved her job and had done it well.
“I’ll survive. I always do.” Deep in her eyes, he saw a suggestion of fear, then she drew a breath and it was gone.
“About the coffee cart. Do you have help?”
“Help?”
“Hired help. Employees. Or do you plan to work seven days a week, twelve hours a day?”
“Yes, I have help. Two high school girls in the afternoon.”
“Do you know how to do payroll?”
Telling when she was truly annoyed was never hard. The pink in her cheeks flamed, and her eyes ignited. “Don’t treat me like an idiot, Hunter. I know what I’m doing. If you don’t want to be part of my vision for my future, then I’m taking it in another direction. And you have nothing to say about it.”
She’d done this with the money she’d tried to give him, the money from refinancing her home. Before he could say that buying the coffee cart was reckless, possibly even ill-advised, she turned around and walked back inside.
He took a step forward as she prepared to close the door on him. “Tomorrow in my office,” he said. “What time can you be there? We’ll set a date for the Closet opening and make a plan for the money for the nonprofits.”
“I’m meeting with Bjorn to sign papers tomorrow.”
“Can you meet Monday?”
“That’s Memorial Day. Aren’t you and the Raleighs going to Fort Stevens for the Civil War reenactment? I’m working with Bjorn.”
“That’s right. Tuesday, then?”
“I’ll call you. The way my life is right now, we may have to do it over the phone.”
That was what he should want—dealing with her over the phone rather than sitting across a table from her or side by side in a restaurant booth. It would simplify his life.
“All right. But, I promised the Food Bank an answer by Friday.”
“I’ll phone you in the middle of the week.” She started to close the door.
“Incidentally...” The single word stopped her. “What about the girls?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you have to open at 5:00 a.m., what about the girls?”
There were sparks in her smile. “I thought I’d sell them into slavery for some operating capital.”
He groaned at her. “I meant, daycare doesn’t open that early.”
“And how would you know when daycare opens?”
He waited a beat. “Rainbow Daycare is my client. I know a lot about them.”
“Well, it was a stupid question, Hunter. When have you known me not to consider my girls? I have to go. Goodbye.” She closed the
door.
He stared at it for a moment, thinking he might want to simplify his life, but it didn’t seem to be happening.
* * *
SANDY CALLED HER MOTHER from the sidewalk in front of Toni’s Boutique, an elegant clothing store for women on Commercial Street, absentmindedly noting the colorful resort wear in the window.
“You did what?” her mother exclaimed after Sandy told her about Crazy for Coffee.
“I needed employment, so I bought a business so I could hire myself. Makes good sense to me.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Working for yourself only means more bills, not necessarily more income.”
“Mom, Hunter just did his best to discourage me. Come on. I need positive input. And Toni’s is having a sale. If you’ll watch the girls for me in the mornings between 4:30 and 7:00, when you’ll to take them to daycare, I’ll buy you an outfit.”
She heard her mother gasp. “Four...?”
“And a jacket,” she added quickly. “Just until I can hire someone for those hours. And a pair of shoes.”
Her mother was silent.
“And a car!” Sandy continued with theatrical extravagance. “Mom, I realize it’s a lot to ask...”
“Okay, Okay,” her mother said finally. “You’re lucky I’m an insomniac. I’ll do it. But it better be some car.”
CHAPTER FIVE
LORETTA SEPARATED PAPER plates while Sandy placed squares of cake on them. Bobbie added scoops of vanilla ice cream and Stella delivered to the crowd of little children gathered around two picnic tables in Sandy’s backyard. The yard sounded like Times Square on New Year’s Eve!
Bobbie scooped heroically from the two-gallon tub. “Who’d have thought such a big noise could come out of such little children?”
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