by JM Dragon
“I can’t. I’m at work and we have a zero tolerance of alcohol.”
“Then have a soda. I, for the record, will have a beer. My employers expect me to do what is needed to fix a problem.” Quinn winked.
Simone hesitated then threw up her hands. “Ray’s bar it is then.”
“Can I ask for a lift, please?”
“Yes.” Simone laughed.
Quinn smiled, noting that the laughter lines on Simone’s face gave her a younger look. She figured the banker must be around her age, but then looks could be deceptive.
Quinn slid into the Audi’s passenger side and, within seconds, the engine roared to life and they headed out of the parking lot.
“Mind if I ask how long you’ve been in Grady?”
“Five years. I arrived shortly after the logging company quit the area. It was a challenge to say the least.”
“In what way?” Quinn noted the intensity in Simone’s voice.
“Lots of people out of work, mortgages unpaid, savings diminishing, you name it, Grady had it all.” She negotiated the left turn to the main street.
“Why stay then?”
“You get to know people better when the chips are down. I did the best I could for the ones who were willing to make things happen. The town is a lot smaller but, up until recently, I figured it was on the upturn. This just…well I’ll be looking for another branch in another town soon enough I guess.”
“You don’t think Desrosiers can come back from the brink?” Quinn frowned. “What I’ve experienced since I arrived here is that there is enough passion from the locals to go that extra mile. So much so that I’m going to do my damnedest to get my employers to stay onboard.”
The car stopped, and Simone turned, with an interested expression. “I guess you’ve been bitten by the bug called Grady. Care to elaborate on what you are going to do about that?”
Quinn chuckled. “I’d say a bug called Desrosiers. Yes, I’ll explain over a beer.”
They continued on.
†
Dee, tears brimming, watched from the upper floor of the mezzanine. She saw many items that stood unattended on the factory floor. Her dad had told the workforce to go home early…again. How on earth were they going to make product if the workers weren’t here? Gene was despondent and of no help whatsoever. Gene’s reaction to the situation hurt her more than she had ever been hurt before in her life. Maybe that Riggle woman was right and Christine and Gene had been involved. Her heart plummeted at the thought and she felt physically sick at the possibility. Christine Ager has a lot to answer for.
Footsteps drawing closer forced her mind back to the situation at hand.
“Hey, Dee, what brings you here?”
Dee wiped away the tears and forced a smile. “Hi, Larry. I do need a break from time to time. I had a meeting and needed some air before getting back to work.”
Larry Davis gave her a puzzled look. “The air is better with Matriarch then here and you know it. I saw Ms. Desrosiers earlier and she looked upset. I swear she was going to cry. Do you know what’s happening?”
Dee knew that Gene would never let anyone see her cry, she was way too stoic for that. Oh god maybe I was too judgmental.
“I’m a lab rat, Larry, just like you…they don’t tell me the important stuff. When did you see Ms. Desrosiers?”
“About two hours ago. I did see her heading to reception about five minutes ago though.” A buzzer sounded, and Larry shrugged. “Got to go, that’s my cue to check the next set of batch results. See you later, Dee.”
Dee muttered a goodbye and sucked in a deep breath. Then headed for reception.
†
When she arrived at reception, Dee saw Chloe talking intensely to Gene. So engrossed in the conversation they didn’t hear her enter, they both looked at her in surprise as she approached.
“Dee, we were…well.” Chloe grinned, and her cheeks glowed red.
Gene turned to her and gave that lopsided smile that always made her heart flutter.
“I was actually trying to find out where you were, Dee. Chloe mentioned that you and she were going out this evening.”
“Well yes, we are going for a catch-up drink after work.” Dee looked at them both. She could tell something wasn’t quite right since they looked guilty.
“Good, that’s good.” Gene sounded nervous. “I was, that is I—”
The door to reception opened and Dee saw Chloe’s surprised expression. When she heard a familiar pig-like sound, she turned to see Mrs. Riggle. With her was a much younger woman being virtually dragged through the entrance.
“I’m going to see this Desrosiers woman now and no lackey is going to stop me.”
Dee winced at the vehemence of the words. She was about to step forward when Gene took center stage.
“Can I help you? I’m the Desrosiers woman, I believe.”
Dee wanted to applaud her boss as Mrs. Riggle came within inches of Gene’s personal space. It was something she knew was a no-go generally, but Gene held her place.
Mrs. Riggle gave Gene an up and down look then shouted, “That Ager woman give me this address. I bet your lackey there didn’t tell you I’ve been here before, did she?” She pointed to Dee. “My Milly deserves what’s been promised.”
The room went silent for a few moments then Gene spoke directly to Milly.
“What exactly did Ms. Ager promise you, Milly?” The words were gently spoken.
Milly shuffled on the spot. Then raised beautiful glacial blue eyes up to Gene and smiled. “She said she would take care of me.”
“That means marriage,” Mrs. Riggle interceded.
Gene ignored the older woman and walked closer to Milly, reached out her hand, and touched Milly’s shoulder. “Did Christine mention marriage?”
“No. She said she cared about me and while she was here, she would take care of me.”
Gene nodded. “Did she do that while she was here…take care of you that is?”
“Yes,” Milly said, furtively glancing at her mother. “I knew she’d be leaving though.”
“Stupid child, don’t say that!”
“Why did you think that, Milly?”
“Because the last time we were together she said there was no future here for her.” Milly looked at her mother. “I loved her, Mom, she was nice to me. Better than you and dad ever have been.” Milly then rushed out of the building.
There was the pig snort in triplicate and Dee watched as Gene turned to the mother.
“Your daughter is a victim, Mrs. Riggle, of loving the wrong person. It happens. I think she needs guidance at this time, help from someone who loves her.” Gene drew back a couple of feet.
Dee saw a relived expression cross Gene’s face as she did so.
“Stupid child. How do I tell my husband she’s not fit for his mates to court? When I tell him the truth, he’ll teach her who she needs to sleep with and it isn’t no woman.” She then rushed out of the building too.
Dee wasn’t sure who was more shocked at those words, her, Chloe, or Gene. For sure they probably all looked aghast.
“What will happen to Milly?” Gene quietly asked.
Dee saw compassion and worry fill Gene’s face. She walked over and touched her arm. “It isn’t your problem, Gene.”
“How can it not be my problem? That poor girl is going to be abused…her mother admitted as much.” Gene turned her gaze directly at Dee, and it hurt, the sympathy generated hurt.
“I think it’s good riddance to trailer trash,” Chloe said. The shrill sound of the phone distracted her, and she moved to answer it.
Dee saw Gene’s angry expression and continued to hold onto her arm.
“How about we go back to work and we can think about how we can help Milly.”
“Yes. Work while we can,” Gene muttered. She abruptly pulled away from Dee’s hold on her arm and left the reception area.
Moments later Chloe spoke. “Sorry I messed up there. But they really
are trailer trash, at least that mother is. I kind of feel sorry for Milly but you can’t save everyone.”
“Chloe, do you know any people or groups that might be able to help Milly? I think she’s at risk now. If you don’t know can you find where she lives?”
“I’m not in that circle, Dee. Wouldn’t have an idea. Isn’t your aunt part of that crowd?”
Dee exhaled a deep breath. Chloe’s words sounded demeaning but in essence she was speaking the truth. Chloe and the LGBT community were not likely to mix.
“Yes, she is. Chloe, can we table tonight for another time? I need to speak to some people as soon as possible.”
“Sure. It’s been an interesting day hasn’t it? My David knows the Riggles. I’ll ask him where they live.”
Reaching over the desk, Dee hugged Chloe. “You are the best.”
Chapter Twelve
Quinn sat on the edge of her bed contemplating the call she was about to make to Sheila. Not good news. Her drink with Simone had not been as enlightening as she’d hoped. The woman hadn’t given much away. In fact, she’d been tight-lipped regarding the Desrosiers situation. On a good note, she had been the first woman in quite a while to interest her on an intellectual level…if you could call it that. They discussed TV shows they loved as teenagers, Will and Grace, Babylon Five, and they both got excited about Xena Warrior Princess, so much so they could literally name the most eventful moments, at least for them.
Smiling she recalled the kiss they shared just before her phone rang: Sheila.
“Hi, Sheila.”
“Quinn, when am I going to get that damned shipment? I was expecting you to call me at least an hour ago with your ETA.”
“I’m still in Grady. You told me to work something out and not disappoint the new customers.”
“I did, but this means that Desrosiers can’t meet its quota again.”
“You are right it can’t…at this moment. I’ve been assured that given two weeks we will get product.”
“Not good enough and you know it. I want what we ordered no later than a week today.”
Quinn raised her eyebrows. Hmm I can work with that. “I will do my best. How is Arnold?”
There were a few moments of silence at the other end of the line. “Champing at the bit to get back to work. Call me tomorrow at this time and give me better news.”
Quinn stared at her phone as Sheila ended the call. The temptation to throw it in the bin was at the top of her mind.
Then the screen lit up again and she smiled at the caller.
“Decided a dog was okay?”
“Don’t be facetious, Quinn. Ruby is not in ear shot so you can’t use that tactic.”
Quinn smiled. Tay was one of the…no, the most honest person she had ever met. It was a crime that life had treated her so badly. “Never do that, Tay. What do you have for me?”
“That’s more like the Quinn I know. Want to take a seat.”
“Sure. No murders or skeletons in the cupboard?”
“Nope. For the record I like these Desrosiers. I’ve emailed you a file. Let me know if you need clarification.” The gentle laughter made Quinn smile.
“I owe you, Tay. Thank you.”
“Not sure if you know this already, but it’s what they call that extra mile for a friend, Quinn. If you need anything else let me know. Take care, kiddo.”
Before she could answer, Tay ended the call.
She switched the phone from one palm to another and then placed it on the coffee table. Walking over to her laptop she switched it on.
“Let’s see what you found out, my friend.”
†
Max wiped down the countertop and surveyed the empty room. Around this time there was a lull in business and she could take a breath before the late afternoon, early evening rush. She smiled at the place where she never quite got over the fact that she owned a business. It certainly wasn’t an option she had thought would ever transpire for her in the early days. She’d arrived in Grady as a cynical twenty-year-old, on her 1986 Kawasaki Ninja GPS 900 black motorcycle. She had made a pit stop at this very building twenty-five years ago…
Max wiped the perspiration from her brow that the helmet had created and opened the door to the café. It was a quaint-looking place with gingham curtains adorning the windows, and as she stepped inside she saw the tables were covered in similar material. Wickedly she wondered what they would make of her, a woman biker with tattoos covering the length of both of her arms. Then a voice rang out.
“Hi, welcome to Ma O’Grady’s.”
Max stared at the person who had greeted her. The woman was older but had a magnificent smile that beamed right into her heart. Max shook herself at the fanciful musing. It was totally not like her.
“Hi, thanks.” She stepped toward the small desk that held a cash register and several menus where the woman was standing. The woman towered over her, and at five seven, Max wasn’t exactly small.
Brown, gentle eyes stared directly at her and with another winning smile proffered a menu. “You’ve arrived at a good time, plenty of room.”
Max was sure that the buoyant tone was tinged with disappointment and for some weird reason beyond her comprehension she was upset for the stranger.
“Well I call that lucky for me.” She took the menu. “Anything you want to recommend?”
Then Max sucked in a silent breath as a lyrical laugh escaped the woman, it made her want to smile alongside and that would have been foolish. I think I’ve been breathing in too many smoke fumes.
“Well…”
Max wriggled her eyebrows. “Well?” She winked, the woman blushed, then laughed.
There it was again that wonderful tone. She noted the woman fumbling with a napkin she picked up off the desk.
“Everything.”
“Everything, wow. You must have some splendid cook. Then everything it is.” Max chuckled. She shook her head when the woman frowned at her. “Why don’t you choose what you think I’ll like the best?”
Again, that frown, and for many it would mar their normal features, but not this woman. She was plain looking, yet no matter what expression she gave, it animated her features.
“Oh, I can’t do that, you might be allergic to nuts or something.”
Max shook her head and smiled. “Allergic to food, not a chance. Give it a go. If it helps my name is Max.”
“Max, I can do that.” Another frown followed by pink cheeks. “Take your pick of a seat and I’ll be back. What can I get you to drink?”
“Coffee, black. Are you going to tell me your name?”
Again, that disarming smile. “Alice, Alice Lawrence.” She walked away and entered a door marked kitchen.
“Well hello, Alice Lawrence. Where have you been all my life.” Chuckling as she took the nearest table to the desk…
The doorbell chiming drew Max out of her memories and she frowned as a stranger entered the café. Except it wasn’t a stranger, at least not to the town, “Hi, what can I get you?”
“Tea, the strongest brand you have, and I’d like cold milk too. Thank you.”
“Sure thing, take a seat and I’ll bring it to you.” Max waited a few moments as the woman took her seat, then she moved to the barista area. Wow, Ms. Desrosiers in the flesh. This is turning out to be one interesting week. She glanced over to the door as it opened again. Her heart warmed then she was seared by brown eyes and her memories fluttered back again. Who said you can’t fall in love at first glance.
“Alice, want to see if our customer requires something to eat.” Max agitatedly pointed to the table Desrosiers had taken. Alice frowned at her but walked over to the table.
†
Tay had worked her magic, as Quinn knew she would. Even her comment about liking the Desrosiers now made sense. Albeit the American family line sounded friendly, the French connection was less so. The French grandmother sounded hard, at least in her business dealings, which had made her a fortune. Why doesn’t the only gr
anddaughter ask for help from her grandmother? The past twenty years of information since the daughter took over was interesting. Excellent products and reputation, but not exploited until Ager turned up. This company, with the right guidance and skills, could still be exceptional and profitable. Quinn sighed.
“That Ager woman is one hell of a rogue,” she mumbled as she read more.
There was a file on Christine Ager and it didn’t make great reading. Apparently, she had done this kind of thing to at least three other companies. Why hadn’t anyone found out about her? There was a light at the end of the tunnel according to Tay. If Desrosiers could find enough investment to get through this debacle, there was evidence that with the right management structure, the company would thrive. Tay didn’t commit to paper that kind of view if she wasn’t sure. Driscols, it appeared, were champing at the bit to find the perfect perfumes to fit their new chic clothing range. Sheila had persuaded them to look no further than the Desrosiers brand.
Quinn leaned back and pulled at her chin.
“I wonder if Driscols would bail Desrosiers out? Maybe even consider a partnership, that would solve all the problems…they were mega rich.” She sighed and shook her head and continued speaking out loud. “How the hell can I contact them? Sheila would sack me on the spot.” Then she laughed softly. “This isn’t my problem, why have I got so caught up in this?” Then she recalled again what she’d said to Tay: Because sometimes there are things worth saving that defy logic, and this definitely was one of those events. She looked back at the screen and hesitated before she opened the file called Alternative.
†
Gene watched as the two women at the counter interacted. She hadn’t seen that kind of intimacy since her parents had died: the loving looks, touching of the hands, and the warm glances. The scene brought back powerful memories of what she had lost and, worse, had never actually experienced one on one. If she hadn’t been such a coward…no, no, she couldn’t go there, especially now. She picked up her teacup and sipped the hot liquid. She stared out the window and watched several people pass by, before glancing at her watch. Three thirty. In all the years she had worked she could never recall that she played hooky on a work day. Today of all days when she should be with her people working out this dilemma, she was sitting here drinking tea. Inside, her heart was weeping for so many things and needed the peace of somewhere other than Desrosiers. Am I a coward? Probably. I have no clue what to do, how could I have been so foolish to be duped into signing away all my property and not have a clue? Better yet, how could I not know that the company was in deep financial trouble? I’m a blind fool…no, an idiot!
