by JM Dragon
“Well, girls, I’m back. Anything new to tell me.” Quinn settled into the chair opposite Gene.
Quinn seemed so at home there in the town, and generally with the people of Grady. How do some people do that, simply fit in? I’ve lived here on and off all my life and certainly full time for over twenty years, and I haven’t mastered the art. Face it, I’m a recluse, I’ve never been in this establishment and many others including Maxali’s in all that time.
“I guess not.” Quinn shrugged and picked up her almost empty beer and drank the remaining contents.
“Oh, we were reminiscing, isn’t that right, Gene?” Dee fingered the rim of her empty wine glass.
Gene stared at Dee. The words spoken hadn’t quite reached her. Her mind had been focused on her negative traits again. Unsure what to say she nodded.
“Well, reminiscing isn’t such a bad pastime,” Quinn replied.
“You said that given time you could prove Christine duped me, what did you mean?” Gene asked quickly. She didn’t want to share her memories of Dee or what they talked about with the out-of-towner.
Quinn stroked her chin and sighed. “I have a friend who is excellent at researching companies, their strengths and weaknesses, and the people who work for them or have.”
Dee leaned forward her expression intent. “Go on, this sounds interesting.”
“Tay…Taylor Salt is a good friend, probably my best friend. She’s a single mom and hasn’t worked in the industry for a few years but she’s still as hot as ever.”
Gene had the impression this Taylor Salt was more important to Quinn than a best friend, but then what did she know. “And she found out something about Christine?”
“Did she ever. It seems she’s done this to at least three others. Never leaves enough of a trail to pin her down. Taylor probably could provide evidence given time, which we don’t have as I said.” Quinn grinned. “Hey, Charlie, thought you got lost with the drinks.”
Charles shook his head. “Ray was asking if we enjoyed the meal. I said it was excellent.” He placed the tray of drinks on the table and sat.
“Thank you, Charles.” Gene took the fresh water pitcher and refilled her glass.
“You’re welcome, Gene. Ray said to tell you it’s a pleasure to see you in his bar, he’s very proud.”
“I shall thank him personally when I leave.”
“Wow, did he say that, Charlie?” Dee giggled.
Charlie nodded. “He certainly did. Now I saw something interesting when I headed back to our table. Our banker, Ms. Baker, is here.”
Gene saw Quinn straighten in her chair and give a small smile. Her body language shifted from relaxed to tense.
“Is she alone?” Quinn asked.
“From what I could see, yes. Then again you women go so frequently to the bathroom for one thing or another, it’s hard to judge for the simple male of the species.”
Laughter followed his words from them all.
“Shall we ask her over…well, I mean to the table…might help your cause.” Quinn was looking directly at Gene, presumably for permission.
“Go ahead.”
Quinn left the table like a hurricane.
Charles and Dee stared at Gene.
“Do you think this wise?”
“Wise, Charles, perhaps not. However, it might help her give us more time. Quinn said she has a friend who knows things, but that we need more time.” Gene sighed. Then looked at her watch, it was nine thirty. In the grand scheme of things not late for many. Except for the past twenty years since she had taken over the company, she hadn’t been out socially after eight. Her fingers were itching to go home and check on her creations, they would be missing her. How crazy do I sound?
She caught Dee’s gaze and received a small frown. “I will need to go shortly I’m afraid. I have something to do before I retire for the evening and we do have work tomorrow.”
“How about Charles and I talk with Ms. Baker. You go home. I’m sure it’s been a long day for you. I promise to be your spy.” Dee winked, and Gene loved her even more. Loved?
Gene stood quickly, more because of her thoughts than the offer. “Thank you, but how will you get home? We came together—I should—?”
Charles interrupted. “I will escort Dee home. I promise to be the perfect gentleman.”
Gene nodded, her heart vying with her mind on the situation. She wanted to take Dee home but seeing Simone Baker again so soon was hard to endure.
“Thank you. I shall see you both tomorrow. It was an enlightening evening.” She stood and smiled at them before leaving. She wanted to speak with Dee privately, but this wasn’t the time.
She walked toward the bar and saw several people staring at her. Some she vaguely recognized, others were simply strangers. At the bar, a large woman dressed in a T-shirt that left nothing to the imagination when it came to the breast area leaned her arms on the bar and stared at her.
“What can I get you?”
The gravelly voice wasn’t very inviting, but Gene gave a tentative smile. “The bill for my table, please.”
“What’s the number?”
Gene flicked her eyes heavenward. There is a number? “Well actually I don’t know the number but...Ray does.”
“Boss has gone for a ten-minute break, where is the table?”
Gene half turned and pointed to the alcove.
“You are paying for the princess? Looks like she’s going to need more help than a meal from what I’m hearing. She’s going to break this town and my kids are going to have to move again. They like it here…she’s one selfish bitch to let this happen.”
Aghast at the woman’s words, Gene realized it wasn’t just about her troubles but the town and all the people in it. Even this woman who didn’t work for her. The knock-on effect, yes that’s what it was. Damn I’ve been in a bubble too long.
“It’s—”
“Ms. Desrosiers, it’s a pleasure to have you here. Charlie indicated you enjoyed the meal?”
Gene wanted to laugh at the comic twist of the last few minutes as a burly man appeared and pushed the surprised woman to the side ripping the bill out of her hand.
“I did, thank you, Ray.”
“There isn’t a bill, Ms. Desrosiers, it was an honor to have you here. Anything I can do let me know.”
Gene didn’t know what to say. This man she had never met before had waived the bill. But why?
“I’m sorry, but I’d like to pay. It isn’t in the best interests of your business for me not to do so. Believe me, I recently found this out only too well.” She kicked herself for the last words.
“You have given me and my family so much business over the last forty years, one meal won’t break the bank.”
Gene was humbled once again by his words and scrambled for something to say. What was there to say except, “Thank you, Ray.”
She exited the bar and then frowned. “Where exactly did Dee leave my car?”
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie smiled as Dee took his arm and they began the walk back to her home. As it turned out, she was only three blocks from his home. Not that it should be a surprise, almost everyone who lived in the town were within five blocks of each other. It had always been a close-knit community and had become even tighter when the logging company left the area.
“What do you make of this whole situation, Charlie?” Dee softly asked. Their steps took them out of the parking lot and headed toward the main street.
“Honestly I’m not sure. If we think Gene is overwhelmed, by god, I’m right up there with her. Maybe more so. Last night I was the janitor, now I’m in the forefront of this business.”
“Gene trusts you, Charlie.” Dee glanced at him and he smiled and squeezed her arm.
“She’s a good woman that’s for sure. With all that’s gone on before and now she is literally trusting me with the business reins, I’m not sure I’d be that generous. Now take you, young Dee.”
“Less of the young. I�
��m thirty-two in a month’s time.” Dee grinned. “Take me where?”
Charlie shook his head and gave a low unmenacing growl. “Gene trusts you implicitly I do believe.” Silence greeted his remark. “She’s lucky to have you in her corner, fighting every inch of the way.”
“She’s worth it. Gene gave me a chance to be myself and have a job I love.” Her face took on a serious look. “Do you think the bank will take everything, Charlie? She’s worked so hard and…well…I don’t think she has a life outside of Desrosiers.” Dee’s step faltered, and she came to a sudden halt almost tripping Charlie. “I don’t think she has any friends or family to help her out of this mess. I could be wrong, of course, I don’t actually know what she does at a weekend…well, unless she tells me that is.”
Dee’s mumbled words made Charlie smile, but he didn’t allow it to reach his lips. Instead, he pulled her around, so they were face to face.
“Banks do not like to lose money for sure. If we can just find that extra cash to give us time, I know we can turn the business around and quickly. Quinn’s friend can help us prove that Ager was the fraud, not Gene. Maybe Gene can get compensation from her. The banker never actually said but I was watching her facial expression and Simone Baker knows something that might help. Though it might be difficult to get her to fess up.”
Charlie touched Dee’s nose playfully and she shook it off returning to their walk.
“I wish Gene realized that we aren’t all her enemies and we want to help.”
“If there is anyone who can help her see that it’s you, Dee. How long have you worked for her? Now how long has she been confiding in you about her weekends? Because I’m damn sure you are right about her having no one close, and I say that with a caveat.”
Dee swung her puzzled gaze to his. “Caveat?”
“Ah, my dear, you are as naive as our boss. Yes. Gene already has the best friend anyone could want.”
“Ah you mean the town. Yes, that’s true.” Charlie chuckled as they walked along the main street passing by Maxali’s. “Gene met my aunt for the first time today. I was shocked…she liked her though and I’m glad.” The softly spoken words echoed around them.
“Why were you shocked? Alice is a wonderful pillar of our community, and she can cook and bake tremendous creations. My wife loved her macaroons. I recall that, in later times, we had an afternoon tea there. Francine was beside herself if her all-time favorite wasn’t on the plate. I made a call to Maxali’s and Max said they’d been experimenting with other treats and they were off the menu for a time.” He choked back a sob, recalling the event so vividly. The gentle squeeze of his arm refocused him. “The final time we went, Max told us to sit at our usual table and Alice arrived a few minutes later with a plate of macaroons. Francine felt so loved at that moment, I’ll never forget their kindness.”
“You miss her still don’t you, Charlie.” Dee stopped again and hugged him close.
“Every second of my life, young Dee. Can’t wait to be reunited with her.” Charlie smiled. “When it’s my time there shouldn’t be any sadness. Now, what’s this with you and your aunt?”
“It’s kind of difficult to talk about Alice at home. My parents don’t approve of her lifestyle.” Dee steered Charlie round the next bend to Clarence Street. “That’s not what is important right now, Desrosiers is.”
“Everything is important. Emotions dictate how we look at life and how we respond. I think there is a lot of that going around right now.” Charlie tucked Dee’s arm closer as they walked to her house in companionable silence. When they arrived at her gate, he smiled.
“Well, young lady, this is your leave. We shall talk, no doubt, tomorrow. Sleep well, my young friend.”
“Thank you, Charlie, for walking me home. You know, I wish Gene had met you before she engaged Christine Ager. Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Things would have gone on as they always did.”
Charlie smiled. “Yes, they probably would. Now there’s a conundrum because I figure out of adversity, unexpected wonderful things can happen. Goodnight, Dee.”
“Yeah, I’ll take your word for it. Goodnight, Charlie, see you tomorrow.”
He watched as she walked down the short drive, inserted a key in the lock, opened the door, turned back, and waved to him. He waved back and headed toward home.
“Ah, Francine, I wish you were here with me. You’d like these people, especially young Dee. She’s like you, and never saw the fatal love arrow.” He chuckled, increasing his pace homeward.
†
“I think you put the cat amongst the pigeons when you invited me to the table.”
“Not my problem if the venerable Ms. Desrosiers took umbrage.” Quinn grinned, taking a deep drink of her beer.
“You should respect her situation, Quinn, and her position in town.” Simone had been surprised when Quinn walked over to her table and invited her to a private party that included Genevieve Desrosier. It obviously hadn’t been a good move because the woman had left before Simone got there.
“I was until she just up and left without a goodbye. I’m on her side at the moment but with stunts like that, it’s a fine line.” Quinn snorted.
It was kind of cute, Quinn defending her honor. She was a contradiction in many ways.
“Fine lines are what make or break a situation. Believe me, I know in my line of work.” Simone shook her head and picked up her glass of wine, extracting the dregs out of the bottom.
“I’ll get you another, it’s only ten-thirty and the bar is open until eleven.”
“And you would know this how?”
Quinn laughed. “What the hell can you do around a small town like this but imbibe the brews and find out what is open after six for a visitor. Trust me, this is great compared to some other places I’ve been forced to spend a night or two for the sake of the job.”
Simone screwed up her eyes in thought.
“You’ll get worry lines doing that.” Quinn wagged a finger.
“Oh, I think I had them from birth.” Simone laughed. “Quinn, let’s be serious here. Why did you invite me to the table?” A pocket of silence enveloped them.
“You can help them. You just need to hear the whole story and give them more time.”
“If that story is that Christine Ager defrauded or manipulated Desrosiers out of her business, then I have an inkling it’s true. Legally, Desrosiers owes the bank the money and for the head office she is just a number on a file, not a person. They will take their pound of flesh in a timely manner that suits them not Ms. Desrosiers.” Simone’s heart was heavy at the words. “Besides, I did hear more this evening from Mr. Spencer. From my limited experience dealing with him, I have to say that if he had been in charge for the last couple of years it would be a totally different picture.”
“So, bottom line there is no time?”
“Yes.”
“That sucks. I’ll get us that drink. I think we both need it.”
Simone watched her leave and she agreed that a drink would help.
†
Gene entered her study, or rather her father’s study. She only used it to keep her mail in order and have a place for her magazines and books about the industry and horticulture. The room was in need of a makeover; even she couldn’t ignore the peeling paint on the ceiling. Sighing, she walked over to the large magnificent desk shipped over from France. It had been her grandfather’s and a wedding present to her father from grand-mère. Trailing her fingers over the ornate carvings on the legs, she recalled the many days when she was a child that she’d be sitting in the room with her father, trying to understand the intricate work. She smiled. Her father had the patience of a saint she was sure. The number of questions she had thrown at him when he was working were never-ending.
Interestingly enough, the desk wasn’t French, which had puzzled her. Everything about her grand-mère was French traditionalist. It wasn’t until her father died that she found out that her grandfather had been English. Perh
aps it was time to offer the past an olive branch. Her eyes focused on the letter that had arrived yesterday. She picked it up and stared at the French postmark and the return address. “Grand-mère, I want to make amends I do, but to do so now…no. I have to do what you tried to teach me and stand up and commit to something more than myself.” She dropped the envelope on the wooden surface, turned around, and left the study, heading for the family room.
Entering, she looked around and realized that this room too needed a makeover. What kind of caretaker was she that her biggest asset, other than Desrosiers, was being neglected? She sat in her favorite chair, and of course another memory surfaced from the recesses of her mind. Gene recalled snuggling up to her mother in this weird egg-shaped contraption in pale gold fabric. Over fifty years later, she’d fight tooth and nail to keep it if that was the only possession she could salvage from this. Glancing around, she could count on one hand any modern introduction since her ownership. How sad. Now she wouldn’t have the opportunity. God, my life is depressing…how did I let this happen? A rhetorical question really because I know. I’m more interested in Matriarch and her offspring than in my personal life. Her fingers stroked the velour of the chair’s arms and a face came to mind and she grinned.
“I wonder.” She reached into her pocket, withdrew her phone, and pressed a speed dial number. She anxiously waited for a pickup but at the same time her stomach churned.
“Hello?”
For a second Gene’s heart flipped. “Dee, it’s Gene Desrosiers. I was just checking to make sure you arrived home safely.” There was a silence at the other end and she grimaced. Bad idea.
“Gene, wow. Thanks for calling. Charlie was the perfect gentlemen and ensured I arrived home and didn’t go until I entered the house. Of course, you arrived home safely.”
