by JM Dragon
“I love you too and the munchkin. What breed of dog?”
“Get off this line now, you horror.” Laughter at both ends was heard before the connection ended.
Chapter Seven
The door to the research laboratory opened and Gene swung her gaze to the entrant. Her smile widened when she saw Dee Lawrence step inside.
“Hey, you’re early…couldn’t you sleep?” Gene frowned when she saw Dee hesitate before replying. Dee’s gaze was on the roses.
“I was excited about Beautiful. Do you think she’s ready?” Dee walked over to the rose.
Gene gave Dee a long look. They’d worked together since Dee was sixteen, a gangly teenager with bright red hair, who refused to consider college as an option. She had few social skills, and her parents had been desperate to find something their only child could connect with. Matriarch and the rest of the blooms had been that connection. What was it now…seventeen years ago?
Dee switched her attention to give Gene a puzzled glance. “You don’t think she is, do you?”
Gene slowly walked to Dee’s side and picked up the notes on the rose. “I think she’s as ready as she will ever be. I was thinking that next week we can begin the process and find out if our experiments can be taken to the next level.” Placing the notes back beside the rose, she sighed and headed to the desk.
“Are you okay, Gene?”
“Yes, yes of course I am. It is always a fraught time when we go for the production level. Not all perfumes work out, as you know.”
“I know, but this time, Gene, it’s the best scent we’ve ever produced.” Dee blushed. “Sorry…you’ve produced.”
“You were right the first time, we is the correct term. I could never have developed the strain without your devotion. That’s why—” the phone rang, and she answered. “Oh yes, I’ll be there. Thank you, Felix.”
“A problem?” Dee asked.
“I wish it were just one problem. Your father has a dilemma, so I need to go to the plant.” Gene strode to the door and punched in the code.
“Can I help?”
Gene’s heart swelled at the younger woman’s offer. “Unfortunately, no, but you can make sure that our haven from the outside world remains here.” She left the room.
†
Five minutes later Gene stood next to her production manager, Felix, and the stores controller, Stan Fisher.
“As I told you, Ms. Desrosiers, we simply don’t have the resources to produce one batch for Sutters, never mind the ten we owe them for last month, and the next order falls due next week.”
Gene thumbed through the purchase orders which were late. It read like a tome. As far as she could see, almost all of their suppliers had refused to deliver until they were paid. “I…Stan, when was the last time we received any reasonable supply of materials?”
Stan’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Green’s made a normal shipment a week ago. The driver said his boss muttered it might be the last time until we pay our bills.”
“Which materials and orders are needed to fulfill the Sutters orders?” She held up the documents. Crap, how do I contain this without a cash injection? What must my employees be thinking?
“May I?” Gene gave them to him, watching as he flicked through several pages and eventually gave her five sheets. “These are critical, Ms. Desrosiers,” Stan said.
Looking at the suppliers her stomach somersaulted. Of course, they have to be the ones I owe the most money to. Controlling her need to run away and shut herself in the lab, Gene pushed back her shoulders and held her head high.
“I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Stan. I appreciate your efforts for Desrosiers.”
Stan nodded and left her with Felix.
“Can we produce anything, Felix?”
Felix looked down at his boots. “No.”
“One of the traits I like about you, Felix, is no bullshit.” She let out a hollow laugh. “My parents will be turning in their graves. My dad in particular. I’m going to lose their dream and I have no idea how to deal with this.” Her voice sounded shrill even to her. What the hell am I doing? He works for me…he’ll think I’m an idiot. Startled when a strong hand took her arm, she looked at Felix.
“You are not alone, Ms. Desrosiers. Things will work out,” he said softly. “I’m sure you have more important things to do than gossip with me.”
Gene wanted to cry. The sympathetic words held more hope to her than anything she had heard since reading the letter from the bank. Gulping quickly, she gave him a look that she hoped was confident.
“I do, indeed I do, Felix. Perhaps we can catch up at lunch time, I want you to meet someone, who has the same faith.”
“Twelve or one?”
“Twelve, my office.” She turned to leave and then swung back. “Thank you for your support.” Papers in hand, she left the area heading for her management office.
†
Megan Lawrence hesitated outside Maxali’s, and then entered. It was nine-thirty and a few people were milling around but it was not overly busy. She walked toward the counter. Max as always was smiling and making jokes with the customers. When it came to be her turn Max’s expression became somber.
“Megan, we don’t often see you in here, have you run out of electricity?”
It was the response she expected. “I’d like a chai latte please.”
“Here, take this.” Max shoved wooden number in Megan’s direction. “It will be five minutes.”
“Thank you. Is Alice going to be around in the next hour?” Megan took the wooden number.
“Yes, due anytime. Why?”
“Ask her if she will spare a few minutes to speak with me.” Max scowled. “Totally, non-adversarial.”
“You’ve said that before and we’ve had hell on earth.”
“Not this time. It’s about keeping Grady alive.” Megan left and took a seat where she could watch the world go by. Felix was not going to be happy about her interference, especially regarding his sister. It was time to settle the old grievances and use their energy to save the town.
Grady had been a bustling town once. Megan remembered the first time she’d stopped here with friends from Charleston on their spring break from college. She hadn’t thought for one minute that she would meet someone who would change her life forever. Their car had suffered a flat just outside the town and, as giggling twenty-year olds do, they figured it would be easy to simply sit on the hood and flag someone down. There had been no problem there, traffic was heavy with logging trucks, but they didn’t stop. Instead, a small Ford pickup screeched to a halt and a young man with brown tousled hair, barely five-five, with a smile that made up for his plain features, ambled over to them. Her friends had groaned and snickered when he offered to help, and he’d tipped his cap offering them a lift to town.
Felix Lawrence had entered her life. Though at the time it had seemed improbable for them to have any more association, fate decided otherwise. Sure enough, they’d stumbled across a perfume factory tour whilst their car was being fixed. The main reception had been a meet-and-greet from Desrosiers. Then Felix had shown them the production areas. When he’d presented her with a sample of their newest perfume, her two friends bitched all the way back to the car. It had been—
“You wanted to speak to me.” Alice placed Megan’s order on the table and sat down opposite her.
“Yes, thank you.” Megan had always liked Alice. She was a gentle soul but could spar with the best when she was upset, as Megan had found out years earlier.
“Max said this was about Grady and keeping it alive.”
“Yes. Desrosiers is in trouble, big trouble according to Fe…Dee. She came over last night and her…and, well, she’s trying to come up with a plan to help Ms. Desrosiers save the company.”
“You can mention my brother’s name. We might have different opinions about my lifestyle, but I love the stupid sucker.”
Megan hung her head and then her chin was lifted by firm fingers.<
br />
“Hey, Dee is my only niece and goddaughter. What she says I’ll listen to, if that helps.”
Megan saw the same colored eyes as her husband’s gaze intently into hers. “Financially it looks like they are broke, and Ms. Desrosiers can’t pay the bills.”
“We can’t lose the factory. It will be the end of Grady.”
“I know. They think there is a woman in town that could help.”
“Who is it? No, forget that, I know…Quinn.” Alice frowned.
“Does she work for Sutters? Because that’s the woman.”
Alice turned around and shouted to the now empty café, “Does Quinn work for Sutters, Max?”
Max shrugged. “Never said.”
“Well, I suspect they are one and the same. We need to get everyone in town behind a campaign to save Desrosiers. Are you and Max willing to help?” Megan asked.
“I’ll talk to Max. Have you talked to the town council?”
“No, I thought of you first.”
“I’ll go talk to Mayor Darren Higson. He won’t want to lose Desrosiers, of that I’m sure.”
Megan knew her sister-in-law, as a business owner, would have contacts that she never would. “I’m at a quilting meeting tonight and I thought I’d rally the troops there first. Friday, it’s whist night at the church. Reverend Andrew will want to help.” She saw Alice grimace. “I appreciate that the church isn’t a fan of yours or you of them, but we must work with everyone. Don’t you agree?”
“Contrary to what you think, Megan, I never fell out with the church, they did that ostracism on all on their own. We’d better get together again…Saturday afternoon here works if it does for you and we can go over who have agreed to help.”
“Thank you, Alice. I will be here, if Felix wants to attend, may he?”
“It’s a public place and he is part of the town. I need to talk to Max.” Alice stood. “I know things have never been great between us since Max entered my life, but this might help settle our differences and we can maybe be a family again.” She walked away and was out of sight behind the counter before Megan could reply.
“I hope so.” Megan said softly.
†
Chloe Drake smiled warmly as Charlie Spencer entered the reception area.
“Hey, Charlie, you look good all spruced up. Don’t tell me you have an interview and they forgot to tell me again?”
“No, Chloe, not an interview. I do have an appointment with Ms. Desrosiers. She said nine and it’s only ten to.” He pulled at his mauve tie.
“Really? Ms. Desrosiers never has appointments usually. At least until recently.” She laughed. “I guess you are another exception to the rule. I know she’s here, so let me call her for you. Take a seat please, Mr. Spencer.” She winked and made the call.
Charlie walked over to the designated seating area but didn’t sit. Instead he picked up the Perfumer & Flavorist magazine and began to thumb through it until an article caught his attention and he began to read. Before he’d had time to finish it Chloe called him over.
“Ms. Desrosiers is in her office and she said for you to go right in. I guess I don’t have to tell you where that is.” Chloe chuckled.
“Absolutely not, young Chloe. How is your mom by the way? Haven’t seen her at the rest home for a couple of weeks.”
Chloe sighed. “My stepfather said it was a waste of her time and he needed her home.”
“You give her my best. Tell her anytime she needs a friend to have coffee with I’m here for her.”
Chloe stood and rushed around the desk and hugged him tight, whispering, “Thank you, Charlie, I’ll be sure to tell her.”
“You take care now.” Chloe disengaged her hold and he headed for the door marked private, entered the corridor, and was soon at the door marked simply Desrosiers. He knocked, hearing the faint “Enter,” he opened the door and saw Gene Desrosiers at her desk with a huge pile of papers in front of her.
“Thank god, Charles. I know you wanted to work with Wanda, but apparently, she’s on vacation for the next two weeks and the shit is about to hit the fan, so to speak. Sorry, I’m inept at running my own business.” Gene put a hand through the bangs over her forehead.
Charlie closed the gap between them. “Steady on, Ms.…Gene. We can work through this. Exactly what has happened since we talked last night?”
“Felix and Stan told me that we can’t make any product…at least not for Sutters. That woman will be here by lunchtime expecting her merchandise. Stan gave me these sheets of over-dues and, frankly, from what I remember last night, they are all the suppliers we owe lots of money to. I can’t pay them…at least not yet.” Gene slammed her fist on the desk.
Charlie picked up the papers and looked them over. “Do we need every item on the order or just some of them from each of these suppliers?” Gene’s vacant expression gave him the answer. “I’ll talk to Felix and find out what the absolute minimum is and then I’ll look through the order book. With Stan and Felix’s help we can work out what stock we do have and what we can make for other customers. Bottom line, Gene, is we need to generate cash for you to continue.”
Gene gave him a wide-eyed look. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Not simple but practical. It could be that we can’t achieve anything, but we are gonna try, right Gene?” Gene stared at him, her expression bemused. He placed a hand on hers. “Grady won’t let you down, Gene, it’s just a matter of getting the troops rallied. We will make this work.”
“How can I tell the town’s people that they might lose their jobs? It’s only been five years since the logging left the area.”
“You won’t have to, trust me.” He caught her desperate gaze. “Life has a way of paying back what’s due.”
There was a quiet moment that seemed to last way too long.
“Okay, you’d best call Felix and Stan and let’s get this show on the road.”
“Right, absolutely right.” Gene picked up the phone.
†
Quinn sucked in a breath and then called Sheila.
“Hi, Sheila, I know you thought I’d just turn up with the goods but—”
“But, Quinn, there is no buts, that’s why I employ you, and pay you well to ensure this doesn’t happen. What do you want? Arnold is expecting me.”
Fuck Arnold…no damn. “Desrosiers is in financial trouble…at least from what I can glean from the locals.”
“I don’t care what the yokels say. I want what we ordered and it’s up to you to get it.”
Quinn rolled her eyes and leaned back on her bed. Her boss’s tone was belligerent. “Sheila, if the company can’t pay the bills, forget your product, it’s never going to happen.” There was a loud hiss at the other end of the line.
“That’s ridiculous. Surely someone else can make it. Find that company and make it happen, Quinn, or don’t bother coming back here.”
“Sheila, that’s ridiculous.” Quinn scowled.
“Are you calling me ridiculous?”
“No! Look, you can’t make me responsible for this. I don’t have the background in the perfume business to make that call. Can’t we give them some more time?” Her hand squeezed the phone.
“They have defaulted, and we have just signed up with Driscols, and we will not default.”
“Tim said it was still on the table.”
“He knows nothing.”
“But—”
“There is no way we will default, do you hear me, Quinn.”
“Yes.”
“Get this deal done and you can expect a triple bonus based on the Chancer lingerie. Make it happen, Quinn.” Sheila ended the conversation.
Quinn sighed and leaned back on the pillow and closed her eyes. How the hell can I make this happen if it’s impossible?
There was a knock on the door as the housekeeper wanted entrance to her room. She shot up from the bed and grabbed her purse. Opening the door, she nodded to the woman and left the room. Time for more town research
.
Chapter Eight
Dee sat at the desk and looked at the perfectly ordered papers. Gene, if nothing else, was particular about record keeping. It was one of the traits she loved about her boss. That wasn’t the only thing—The phone rang, and she left the thought before picking it up.
“Hello, this is Dee.”
“Hi, Dee, it’s Chloe. Do you know where Ms. Desrosiers is? We have a visitor here who urgently needs to see her.”
“Does she have an appointment, Chloe?” Dee frowned.
“No, and she’s very insistent and won’t leave. I’ve tried all the production areas, but Ms. Desrosiers isn’t there, so I figured she’d be with you.”
Dee sighed. “No, she isn’t. Who is the visitor? Can anyone else help?”
Dee heard Chloe ask the visitor what her name and business was. She heard the response, in a woman’s clear and crisp voice. “Only if they know what goes on around here.”
Dee paused and sucked in a deep breath. I don’t want to make this any worse, but can I? “I’ll see her, Chloe. Give me five minutes.”
“Are you sure? It’s…” The hesitant words from Chloe made Dee bite her bottom lip.
“Absolutely, I’ll be there in five minutes.”
She ended the call and looked around the lab. Years of devotion and love had gone into this company by everyone who had worked there. She could count on the fingers of one hand the ones who hadn’t worked out. Pulling back her hair she adjusted the ponytail. She then smoothed down her serviceable, pale-green linen shirt. She checked that her plain flat shoes were reasonably shiny, but rubbed them against her black trousers as a precaution and left the room.
†
Dee saw Chloe grin when she entered the reception area before she nodded at the woman who had her back to them.
