Читать книгу Under The Boardwalk - Amie Denman - Страница 13
ОглавлениеAFTER A MARATHON session making wedding-cake flowers, Gus stood at her shop door ready to flip the sign to Closed. A tall man loitered outside. He met her eyes but didn’t move a muscle.
She stared back, waiting to see if he would make the first move.
Or any move.
Gus caved first, stepped back and pulled the door open.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you closed?” Jack asked.
“Closing,” she said, managing a small smile until she remembered the thirty-thousand-dollar kick in the gut he’d delivered a few days ago.
“I just...” He stopped. Gus wanted to put him at ease—her natural inclination was to be the sunshine in the rain, especially in the doorway of her own business. She glanced at her apron and fiddled with the knot in front. It was fully decked out in summery designs. Beach chairs, fireworks, bikinis, a flag, a boat.
Jack gestured to her apron. “I like it,” he said.
Gus said nothing, trying for a neutral expression and hoping he would go away. She was the official spokesperson for the lease vendors at the Point, who were getting a rotten deal from the six feet three inches of man standing in front of her. She squared her shoulders and tried not to think of him as an attractive man with a sweet tooth and a smile that could melt chocolate.
“Summer is my favorite season,” he said. He looked pointedly at all the symbols on her apron. “I like all of those things.”
One hundred percent awkward.
He shifted his feet and propped the door open with his hand. “Maybe you could put the Sea Devil on an apron to wear at the Point this summer.”
Gus had broken her own record. She hadn’t kept her mouth shut for this long since she’d gotten her wisdom teeth out in high school.
Jack stepped into the open doorway now, preventing her from slamming the door in his face and locking it.
“I saw that you signed the contract,” he ventured. “All the vendors did.”
Gus tried to relax her jaw. What was the point of his visit? To gloat? She untied her apron, pulled it over her head and hung it on the back of a nearby chair.
“We didn’t have much choice,” she finally said.
“Yes, you did.”
Gus started arranging chairs around the small tables in the front of the shop. Four chairs per table, perfectly spaced and shoved in. There was something satisfying about keeping her hands busy and her back to Jack. She could not look at him. Would not give him the satisfaction. He was on her turf here. He was the one who should be uncomfortable. She aligned the chairs viciously, snapping them into place with their shoulders pinned against the tables.
He approached the glass case and looked at the cookies and cakes on display.
“What I mean is,” he said, “you did have a choice.”
Gus crossed her arms over her chest and faced him. She wanted to get behind her counter, her shield, her fortress of confections—but he blocked her way to the pass-through.
“You could have told me to go jump in the lake with my contract,” he continued, a small grin sliding up one side of his face.
“I thought about it,” Gus said. She’d thought about him quite a lot, as a matter of fact.
He chuckled. “I’m sure you did.”
Gus exhaled slowly. “Sorry if I don’t find it so funny.”
“It’s not. It’s business. Nothing funny about business.”
“Says the man who owns an amusement park.”
He continued to gaze at the cookies in the case. No way was she offering him one now. Even if it would make him go away.
Gus wondered if her aunt was listening to this conversation. Aunt Augusta had helped her all day and should be washing up. Gus should hear water running, but no sounds came from the kitchen.
Jack suddenly stepped closer and looked down at her. He smelled like a man who’d been outside all day, a hint of lake air and a touch of sweat. It was a nice combination. Too nice. She had to keep her mind on her business, which was currently a house of cards built on bank loans and confectioner’s sugar.
“I would have been in a real bind if you’d all refused to sign. Don’t know how I would’ve replaced you all at such short notice.”
Gus wanted to throw something. What was wrong with this guy?
“I’m just so glad we didn’t inconvenience you,” she said, her words laced with bitterness. “I’m sure you’re hoping we’ll all make a nice profit and your twenty percent—instead of the original ten—will be even sweeter.”
“Of course I hope so.”
Gus stared wordlessly at him. Heat crept over her; her ears flamed. She made a Herculean effort to keep her voice from shaking.
“I have work to do,” she said abruptly, clipping off the words and hoping they conveyed dismissal.
“I thought you were closing for the day,” he said.
With a genius like him at the helm of Starlight Point, we’re all in serious trouble. Has he never seen a bakery kitchen after it was closed for the day?
Maybe he didn’t know the first thing about actual work. But she did. She grabbed her apron off the back of a chair and folded it. Jack moved toward the door, leaving the floor open for Gus to retreat behind her counter. She felt braver there, like a judge behind a bench.
“I’ll go,” Jack said. “I just stopped by to say...”
Gus tapped a pencil on the counter while she waited. It was funny to see such a tall, well-dressed man acting so... What was it? Nervous? Guilty? Aloof?
“I know how influential you are with the other vendors,” he said, looking her directly in the eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know why.”
“You don’t know why people would listen to me.” It was a statement, not a question. Of course he wouldn’t get it. She kept her voice steady. “I’m the newest one there and a mere...”
“Baker?” Jack supplied. “That’s one of my favorite professions.”
Gus wanted to laugh, if only to break the tension. Her shoulders were like wild dogs straining at the leash of her spinal column.
“Let me enlighten you. The other vendors asked me to speak for them because I have three locations at Starlight Point. My sixty thousand dollars carries a lot of weight with them and with me.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“What?”
“Speak for them?” he said. “I thought you might come at me without the oven mitts.”
“I did come by the next morning, but your troll of a secretary said you were unavailable and would be all day. She implied I was wasting my time even trying.”
“Dorothea has been with us for centuries. She’s very loyal.”
“I’ll have to name a cookie after her.”
“She’d like that.”
Gus rolled her eyes and continued, “So did you really tell your guard not to let me past the palace gate?”
“It’s a busy time of year,” Jack said.
“Um, you gave us twenty-four hours to make a decision that could make or break our businesses. And you couldn’t make time to negotiate? Really?”
Jack stared at his shoes, his shoulders sagging. “I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you.”
“And what would you have done if you had?” Gus asked hotly. “Renegotiated? Offered us a better deal? Honored your father’s verbal commitment to people he’d worked with for years—some of them for decades?” She knew she was stepping over a line, invoking his deceased father, but he’d invaded her shop and insulted her.
Jack stared at her for ten long seconds, the veins standing out in his neck.
“I wouldn’t have changed a thing in the contract.”
Gus’s heart hammered in her chest. She’d pushed him too far for the second time in her role as leader of the vendors. And the results weren’t any better this time around. He had a way of turning her sunshine to storm clouds faster than weather changed in the Midwest.
“Goodbye,” she said.
Jack stalked to the door.
“You know,” he said, “I really came here today to say thank-you.”
And he was gone. One thing was certain. Jack was not an easy man to understand.
