High Heels and Haystacks: Billionaires in Blue Jeans, book two

by Erin Nicholas

  He didn’t fucking have time, for one thing. And his father had never served dessert, and the diner’s menu hadn’t changed since they’d opened fifteen years and four months ago. And it wasn’t going to change now because a hot, bossy blonde asked Parker to bake for her.

  “Well, you know for sure that I do have a million dollars,” Ava said.

  Parker looked up. “You’re offering me a million dollars to make the pies for you?”

  “Something even better,” she said.

  “What’s better?” he asked. “Two million?” He didn’t want her money. Money and loans had a way of complicating things, and complications were the last thing Parker wanted.

  “How about this building—including the pie shop—free and clear?” she asked. The pie shop and diner were actually two parts of one big building that had been a farm supply company long ago. The wall divided it into two separate businesses, the diner about twice the size of the pie shop.

  He frowned at her. “Why do you think I’d want that?” But he did kind of want that. He “owned” the diner, but he was actually paying the bank for it, one month at a time. It was fine. It was how a lot of people did business. Maybe most people. Small business loans were no big deal. But there something about the idea of really, truly, fully owning the diner that made his heart beat a little harder. His father had given him the business, and Parker took a lot of pride in what he did inside this building. And the idea of it being completely his, from the bricks and drywall to the eggs and whisks, was tempting, he couldn’t deny it.

  Then he frowned harder. How did Ava know that about him?

  She shrugged. “I did some research.”

  “You researched me?” he asked.

  “I always get as much information about the people I’m negotiating with as possible before we meet,” she said. “Interestingly, my team couldn’t dig much up about your business dealings.”

  He rolled his eyes. “My business dealings are ‘what can I get you?’, ‘here’s your burger’ and ‘that will be eleven eighty-five’.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. Direct. Simple. You pay your bills on time. You give to charity. You’ve never done anything even slightly sketchy with your business.”

  He gave her a look.

  “But I have learned some things about you over the past three months,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  “Your entire life revolves around this diner. This town. These people.”

  Parker gripped the shaker he held tighter. She was right. And ninety-nine percent of the town could have told her that. But there was something about Ava having figured that out about him that felt…different. More personal.

  “So,” she went on. “I figured the best thing I could offer you was a chance to really, truly own this place.”

  Hearing her say what he’d just been thinking felt strangely intimate.

  “And,” she added, “since clearly making food for these people is what turns your crank, I figured you’d appreciate having a chance to make even more food for more people.”

  It turned his crank, huh? Well, he supposed that was one way to put it. But he didn’t have the time or energy to make more food for more people. He was perfectly happy with things exactly as they were. Exactly as they always had been.

  “I could pay off my own loan with the million dollars,” he commented. “And buy a boat.”

  They referred to business deals as getting into bed together. He was pretty sure that getting into bed with Ava, in any capacity, would absolutely make his life complicated.

  But it would be temporary. She’ll be leaving town in eight and a half months.

  Still, he had a feeling that a woman like Ava could have an effect that would be felt long after she was gone.

  She nodded. “But then you wouldn’t have a fifty-fifty partnership with Cori in the pie shop.”

  Okay…what? Parker set the big container of pepper down and braced his hands on the counter. “A partnership with Cori?”

  Ava nodded and wet her lips.

  Per the trust, Parker was supposed to run the pie shop after the girls left, but Cori was now staying in Bliss because of Evan. Parker had assumed that she would want the pie shop, and he had no intention of fighting her for it. He’d actually been relieved Evan had hinted that Cori would like to keep the shop open after the triplets’ year in Bliss was up. He’d made it sound like Cori would be willing to run it and work for Parker, but Parker had planned to just sign the whole thing over to her. It had been her dad’s and, seriously, Parker didn’t have the time for another business anyway.

  A partnership had never been mentioned.

  “Fifty-fifty,” Ava confirmed. “Fully backed by Carmichael Enterprises. But it has to stay a pie shop. I don’t know if you’d planned to knock the wall between the diner and shop down and expand or something, but if you’re interested in the pie shop as a pie shop, then it can be half yours. No investment required up front. You just come in and take over next March. Very low risk.”

  Really, no risk if Carmichael Enterprises was behind it. Per Rudy’s will, Carmichael Enterprises couldn’t be involved with the shop for this first year, but after the twelve months was up the triplets could do whatever they wanted. And this didn’t surprise Parker. According to Evan, this was what Ava did—she financially backed everything her mom and sisters did so that they had no worries about money or security. Ava would be able to insure the financial stability of the shop for the rest of Cori’s life if needed.

  “What if I want to keep it all for myself? No Cori?” Parker asked, just to see what she’d say.

  “Then I’ll give you ten million for it.”

  He blinked at her. She was serious. Her sister’s happiness was worth ten million. In fact, he was pretty sure she’d go even higher if she had to.

  That was a lot of money. That was the kind of money that changed lives. Maybe for the better. Maybe not. But it didn’t matter. Parker didn’t want a changed life.

  “Cori is okay with sharing it?” Parker asked.

  “Definitely. She’s never run a business before. She wants a partner. In case you’ve missed it, Cori doesn’t really like to be alone. She’s much better with people. Especially people who can help with the ‘boring stuff’ like the books and accounts,” Ava said.

  Parker chuckled. Parker liked Cori a lot. She was fun and sweet and sassy and smart. But she didn’t sit still well, and she hated the accounting Rudy was forcing her to do for the pie shop this first year. Yeah, he could be her business partner. He could take care of the books and inventory stuff while she had fun in the kitchen. He couldn’t run two kitchens anyway. And if he was ever slightly jealous of her getting to create and concoct over there, he’d never let on.

  “Let me think about it,” he told Ava.

  “Sure. Of course,” Ava said with a nod. Then she leaned in again. “But if you’re going to take over the pie shop, it makes even more sense for you to be making the pies now. You can make the pies you want your pie shop to be known for, and we get things going strong for both you and Cori before I leave.”

  He rolled his neck, taking a deep breath. This woman never stopped pushing. “What makes you think I have pies I want the pie shop to be known for?” he asked, looking up again.

  Ava met his eyes. “Because, for all the bitching you do about people coming in here to eat, you take pride in the food you make. You have very specific ideas about how it should all be done. So, if you’re a part of the pie shop, you’ll want to make really good pies in a very particular way.”

  He just looked at her for a long moment. Dammit. She was more observant and insightful than he’d given her credit for.

  And suddenly a new thought occurred to him. One that made all of this a lot more appealing. “I just don’t know that you’ll like me being your boss,” he told her.

  She lifted a brow. “Uh. Owner,” she said, pointing at herself. “Employee.” She pointed at him. “Until March.”

  “Good
at pies,” he said, pointing at himself. “Not.” He pointed at her. “If I’m teaching you to make pie, that means I’m in charge and you have to do what I say.”

  “Teaching me? No, no, I just want to help you do it.”

  “Not what Rudy intended and you know it.”

  She blew out a breath. She clearly wanted to argue further, but finally she said, “Fine.”

  Parker nodded and resumed the pepper filling, trying not to look too smug. Could he teach Ava to bake a pie? Hell if he knew. But he could try. And in the process, get his recipes into the pie shop—so what if she somehow knew that would matter to him?—get full ownership of the diner, and ruffle a few more of Ava’s feathers. Because, for whatever reason, that was really a hell of a lot of fun.

  “But you’ve got your work cut out for you,” she said. “And keep in mind that all of the pies will be known as yours. You’ll want them to be good.”

  He looked up at her. “Yeah, I caught that,” he said. “The Wilsons now think that I’m going to be baking over there. That will be all around town by dinnertime.”

  She nodded. “Exactly.”

  “And you’re feeling kind of cocky because you think that if you keep messing the pies up, I’ll just step in and do it for you to save my reputation,” he guessed.

  She looked mildly surprised, and he realized he was right in assuming that was her plan. But she shrugged. “You know everyone will be expecting great things from you. You won’t want to let them down.”

  “But they’ll also know that Cori and I are partners,” he said. “And considering they’ve been eating my cooking for twelve years and have never tried Cori’s, they might just assume that anything bad is hers.”

  Ava frowned. “Cori’s an amazing baker.”

  “Well, of course you would say that. You’re her sister.”

  “But they know I’ve been doing the bad baking so far.”

  He nodded. “But the town doesn’t know all the details of the will. They don’t know that you have to be the one baking. From what I hear, they assume you’re the best of the three of you.”

  He couldn’t help but grin at Ava’s little gasp. “I didn’t know that. They actually think Cori and Brynn are even worse bakers than I am?”

  “Well, what are you going to do? Tell them that your dad sent the worst of you into the kitchen to torture the town?” Parker asked. “That would just make him look crazy.”

  She frowned, clearly processing all the ways her family could end up looking bad here. Parker fought his smile.

  “So, you really think you can make me a good baker?”

  He felt a surge of triumph. Ava would do whatever she had to do to protect her family’s reputation. He liked that about her. And he was going to unabashedly use it against her. Rudy wanted her to learn to make pie. So she was going to learn to make pie. “I can,” he said with a solemn nod, trying not to give away how much he was going to enjoy this. “But you’ll have to do everything I tell you.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, clearly torn between agreeing for her family’s sake, and telling him to fuck off. “Fine. You can teach me how to bake the pies. For now.”

  For eight and a half months, he reminded himself. Which could be a very long time. “Fine.”

  “Oh, and Hank and the guys know you’re going to be working at the pie shop too,” she told him.

  Parker sighed. Hank and his friends, Walter, Ben and Roger, went to the pie shop every morning for coffee after eating breakfast at the diner. They were a font of information and gossip.

  “You’re okay with the whole town knowing that you’ve begged me for help?” Parker asked.

  She laughed. “Admitting that I suck at baking? Yeah. Because I don’t care about pies.”

  Parker nodded. “Exactly.”

  “What?”

  “I think you’re really good at anything you do care about.”

  She seemed surprised by the compliment. “Thank you,” she said. “I am, actually, good at the things I really try at.”

  “Do you even like pie?”

  “No.”

  “It’s hard to care about things you don’t like.”

  “But I like Cori.”

  He acknowledged that with a tip of his head.

  “So, let’s get started.” Ava slid off the stool and started for his kitchen.

  “Whoa.” He caught her arm, bringing her to a stop.

  Her skin was soft and warm under his hand and he realized that he’d never touched her before. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand. “We’re not starting today,” he said.

  She looked up at him. Even in her heels she still had to tip her head slightly, and it occurred to him, as he looked into those big blue eyes, that they hadn’t stood this close before. At least not for more than a second as she scooted around him to escape his kitchen with eggs or butter.

  “Um, why?” she asked.

  Was her voice a little husky?

  “I have things to do today,” he said. “I wasn’t prepared for this. But we can start tomorrow.”

  “Oh, tomorrow. Right. We need to go fruit picking tomorrow.”

  He blinked at her. “What?”

  “Hank and Walter might have overheard me mention to Cori and Brynn that we’re going fruit picking.”

  “Why are we going fruit picking?”

  “I figured you’d insist on getting rid of the canned pie filling for the pies.”

  “I am going to insist on that,” he agreed.

  “So we’ll need fruit, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “So fruit picking is a good idea,” she said. “We’ll go after your breakfast shift tomorrow.”

  Parker didn’t respond right away. Did she really not know that there was no fruit in season right now? And why was he hesitating to tell her? Maybe because she was so damned bossy, even when he’d tried to make it very clear he was going to be in charge in the kitchen. It might be fun—good, he meant good, as in a good lesson for her—to take charge of this and have her show up to pick nonexistent fruit. It might be good for her to realize that she didn’t know as much as he did about some of this. Maybe it would make her more likely to listen to him. He almost laughed at that.

  “Fine,” he finally agreed. “We’ll start tomorrow. And I’ll give you three days a week.”

  “I need more than that.”

  Pushing. Always pushing. “Well, I’ve got stuff to do. So, three days a week, and you can practice on the other days.”

  “Why? Will there be a test?” she asked sarcastically.

  He narrowed his eyes, studying her face. And made a decision. He nodded. “Yes. I will be testing you.”

  Of course, that could be taken several ways, and he would, no doubt, be testing her patience. And enjoying it more than he should. And more than he had interacting with any other woman in a long time.

  He had a flash of she’s gonna mess things up. But he quickly reminded himself temporarily. It’s just temporary.

  “Very funny,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m not joking,” he told her. “I’ll be the first taste-tester you’ll have to get through. If I don’t like it, you’ll have to try again.”

  Her eyes flared with irritation and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a touch of excitement.

  It shouldn’t surprise him that being issued a challenge would get her going. Though it was hard to think of a time when Ava wasn’t going.

  “Fine,” she finally said.

  Yep, being Ava’s boss was going to be a good time.

  3

  Ava and I are going fruit picking tomorrow,” Parker told Evan and Noah as he refilled their coffee cups. Without being asked. Which was a signal for something is up.

  He didn’t like refilling coffee because he was a grump who didn’t like people paying a measly eighty-seven cents for a cup of coffee that, with the free refills, turned into four cups of coffee and caused them to sit around gabbing, taking up a table, and keeping him waiting on the
m and preventing him from being able to get their cups and table cleaned up.

  At least, that was what everyone thought. And yeah, that was part of it. But it was also because it was one of the very tiny ways he could exert some control in this damned diner.

  He knew most people would think that was crazy. The diner was his. He owned it. He ran it entirely on his own. He loved this place, he really did. And he loved being able to honor his father by continuing the business that had meant so much to Bill Blake. But the place was still his father’s in almost every way. From the menu to the décor to the dishes. Parker had kept everything the same on purpose.

  Except for the food. That was all his. He was still serving burgers and BLTs and pot roast like his father had, but his was even better than his father’s had been. And he wasn’t about to let people muck it up by adding ketchup where it didn’t belong or holding the cheese from things that were so obviously better with it.

  “You and Ava are going fruit picking,” Evan repeated.

  “Yep.” Parker pushed the silver cream pitcher closer to Evan.

  Evan looked at Noah. Parker never offered cream with the coffee. They always had to ask. Noah was regarding Parker with narrowed eyes.

  “Is that a euphemism?” he finally asked.

  Parker let a half smile curl his mouth. “That’s what Hank and the boys probably think.”

  “Well, is it?” Noah asked. “Because there’s no fruit to pick this time of year.”

  Parker couldn’t help but let his full smile stretch his lips. “Ava doesn’t know that.”

  “It was Ava’s idea to go fruit picking?” Evan asked.

  “Yep.” Parker poured more coffee—straight black—into Noah’s cup as Evan, the one with the sweet tooth, added more sugar to his own.

  “Why?” Evan asked.

  “Because it’s part of her plan,” Parker said. The plan that he was going to have a very good time messing up.

  He’d never met a person who had as many plans and lists as Ava Carmichael did. It was hot. He couldn’t deny it. He didn’t make lists. He didn’t make big, elaborate plans either. But he appreciated it in others.