Despite being about a quarter-hour late, I didn’t have to worry this early about people lining up in front of my stores, about to protest that they couldn’t yet buy any of my pet or people treats.
“Good girl,” I said to my little golden Biscuit as she sat down on the sidewalk in front of the Barkery while I fished my keys out of my purse. In a few moments we were inside.
So was Zorro, Frida’s beagle mix. She didn’t always bring him, but she had today. He came over to greet us, sniffing first Biscuit, then me.
I left Biscuit loose after locking the door behind me. When we opened for business, I’d confine both dogs in the fenced area, but no need to do so now.
I had to flick the lights on in the Barkery, but I saw light at the bottom of the door into the kitchen and smiled. Frida was in there, of course, diligently baking.
“Stay,” I told Biscuit, then slipped through the door into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Frida, stirring up some really delightful cinnamon and other aromas that went with a people bakery.
“Good morning,” she said. Though her hands were covered in dough, she managed to steal a glance toward the watch on her left wrist as if she was reminding me of the time.
“Good morning,” I repeated. “And I appreciate your taking over my earliest duties so I could sleep an extra fifteen minutes.”
“Is that what you were doing?” She grinned mischievously, as if she guessed why I really was late. Well, people around here knew I was dating Reed, but I never discussed what any of those dates involved. She was just guessing, or having the fun of teasing, or both.
Today she wore a loose-fitting green Icing on the Cake T-shirt over khaki slacks. As always when she worked here, she’d pulled her medium-shade brown hair back into a ponytail. She seemed to love both parts of her career, my shop as well as creating her own gourmet recipes at home. Her fiancé ran a grocery store in town, so she never lacked for ingredients. She wasn’t exactly svelte, either, so I knew she enjoyed sampling all she made. She was definitely an asset to both my stores, especially since I rarely saw her without a smile.
“I’ll never tell,” I said with a smile of my own. We then got into discussing the Icing items she’d started, and what I should begin baking for the Barkery.
I jumped right in, partly because I had to and mostly because I loved what I did. An hour, then more, passed while we put trays of products in the respective ovens for each shop and then got them out and into their display cases.
Opening time for both shops was at seven, and at six forty-five Dinah came in to start her day, too. She would be working till closing time. Frida would leave in the early afternoon and my other part-timers, Vicky and Janelle, would join us.
A couple of minutes before our official opening that day, I entered the Barkery, looked at how the trays of our wonderful doggy treats were laid out behind the glass in our display case, and then went around to the back of that case and took out two small liver biscuits. I used them to lure Biscuit and Zorro into the open-air crate that kept them from slipping out the door when customers came in, and paid them off by giving them each a biscuit.
It was opening time.
Frida was in charge of Icing and Dinah took care of the Barkery, and I slipped between them making certain all was well. Given my choice, I’d have spent more time in the shop catering to dogs, but this early in the morning there were more Icing customers, choosing scones and croissants and other treats to start off their days.
About mid-morning, when things were a little slower in Icing but picking up in the Barkery, I took the opportunity to go into my small office, which was located at the rear of the Icing side of the kitchen, to go over some finances. Fortunately, all seemed well. Better than well, in fact. I checked on some bills that were paid automatically—including the loan I’d received to buy and remodel the stores, from my wonderful boss Arvie at the vet clinic. My shops had only been open a few months, so not much of the loan had been paid back yet, but I felt certain it would all work out over time.
As I finished staring at my computer screen, I heard a knock on my open door. I looked up. Dinah stood there. Her sweet and pudgy face held an expression I couldn’t read: Amused? Confused? Challenging? Maybe all three, and maybe something altogether different.
“Hi,” I said. “What’s up?”
“A very strange customer in the Barkery is what’s up,” she said. “She hasn’t offered to buy anything. She didn’t bring a pet along, and all she’s been doing is asking questions about each product in the display case, and about you and this shop. I tried to answer her at first, but she kept throwing questions at me even when I started helping another customer who’d just walked in.”
I felt my stomach churn, but gagging wouldn’t help. I had a fair idea of who this “customer” was.
“So you decided to come get me?” I said. “Good plan.”
“No, she finally interrupted my discussion with the other customer and demanded that I bring you into her august presence.”
“She used those words?”
“No, just that attitude.”
I didn’t know too many people who’d describe a confrontation that way, but of course Dinah was a writer in her spare time. She’d recently published some online articles on choosing a pet and feeding dogs, but she preferred writing fiction. I liked what I’d seen of her stories and I knew she had aspirations for a lot more.
“Well, my august presence will follow you,” I said. Turning off the computer screen, I stood and headed toward the office door.
As we walked through the kitchen, I made a mental note to check on all our supplies in both stores’ display cases. That felt better than what my mind kept hinting awaited me in the Barkery.
But sure enough, when I entered the shop I saw Wanda standing near the door, arms crossed and her irritatingly pretty face looking aggravated, as if I’d promised to join her there hours ago.
Was she here to annoy me, as she had our whole crowd at the resort?
Where was Jack—and had she spent last night in his apartment despite their argument?
“Well, hi, Carrie,” she gushed, loud enough for me to hear her clear across the shop despite the conversations going on among two sets of customers with their dogs. “How good to see you.”
That’s not what I’d expected her to say after the expression she’d leveled on me. But, heck, I’d only met this woman once before and I certainly didn’t understand anything about her except that she worked for VimPets and seemed to be more than a thorn—a giant spike?—in Jack’s side. Were they actually lovers, or had she really just made that up as a threat to Jack, as he’d indicated?
Today Wanda wore a very short cocoa-colored dress, and matching stockings that emphasized how long and surprisingly slim her legs were despite her short height. As before, I had to admit she was a highly attractive lady—physically, at least.
I’d seen no other aspect about her that seemed appealing or even tolerable.
“Hello, Wanda.” I crossed the Barkery’s blue tile floor, sorry I had to ignore Biscuit and Zorro as they stood and wagged their tails in their confined area. I made no attempt to welcome her or ask if I could sell her any of our products. I didn’t know why she was here but figured it was for a reason I wouldn’t like.
She opened her arms as I got closer and I had a horrible feeling she was about to hug me. I didn’t get near enough for that but just stood there, trying not to compare what I must look like in my blue knit top, blue slacks, and low-heeled shoes with Wanda’s dressy appearance.
Hey, I liked what I wore—a top different today from the T-shirts my assistants wore. I’d designed the logo on the pocket of the shirt but so far had only worn it myself. It was a heart, with lettering on the top that said Barkery, with Bakery at the bottom.
I might not be as glamorous as Wanda, but I wasn’t bad looking. My hair is light
blond with some added highlights. I have the Kennersly longish nose and blunt chin as well as fairly sharp cheekbones, part of the look I share with my brother Neal.
“So aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?” Wanda lowered her arms but raised her head.
“Sure,” I said as casually as I could muster. “Why are you here?”
“Hey, I’ll tell you.” She bent her head in the direction of the door to the kitchen. “Do you have an office in there, or someplace else we can talk privately?”
I didn’t want her to enter my kitchen, let alone my office. I had an odd vision of her emitting invisible smells or vibrations that would ruin everything. Unreal, yes, but I was developing a genuine antipathy toward this woman.
“You know, I planned to take Biscuit for a walk now.” I tilted my head toward the two dogs without saying which was which. “You can come along if you’d like.”
“I guess that’s good enough.” But her words came out in a sigh and her bottom lip moved into a pout.
“I know you love dogs,” I said before turning to go fetch Biscuit and her leash. “Or at least that’s what you said last night.” Not a claim I actually believed, of course.
“Absolutely.” But her tone sounded as false as everything else I’d noted so far about Wanda.
Zorro didn’t seem happy about being left alone, but I gave him one of our treats in consolation. Dinah had again taken control of running the Barkery and I told her I’d be back shortly. I had a shift scheduled at the veterinary hospital that afternoon, but this morning I could take the time to talk to Wanda—not that I wanted to.
We were soon outside on the fairly busy sidewalk. I decided the best place for our little chat that I didn’t look forward to was in the town square. We could keep strolling there among the visitors and people walking dogs, or we could sit on one of the many benches.
“How about if we go over there?” I asked Wanda, pointing across the street.
She shrugged one of her narrow shoulders. “Why not?”
We crossed at the corner, then started meandering along the bench-lined sidewalk surrounding the square, which was a park-like setting of grass-covered hills and knobcone pine trees. The air was crisp, and a slight aroma of pine and potential precipitation hung around us.
I let Biscuit do her thing, of sniffing and more, without looking at Wanda to see whether she was okay with it or impatient. I didn’t really care.
“Okay, so here’s the thing,” Wanda said after a few minutes. “I know Jack has been after you for a while to sell some of your recipes to us at VimPets, but he hasn’t been very organized or dynamic about it. But me? I happen to know what our bosses really want.”
Including the executive you’ve been sleeping with? I wondered, but didn’t ask. “What do they want?” I asked instead.
“Well, there are so many ingredients and recipes in the world that whatever you’ve put together here is unlikely to be completely original. But here’s my take on it, which I’ll push with our execs. Knobcone Heights has a reputation for being an elite community, so what’s created here is already pretty highly respected. That includes the town’s pets and veterinary clinic, so recipes developed and sold in this town as particularly healthful can be promoted as being quite special. That’s why we’d buy some recipes from you, Carrie. Even if Jack isn’t as assertive about it as he should be.”
“But you’ll be assertive,” I said with no question behind it. Nor did I contradict her about how Jack had been communicating with me.
“Exactly. And we’ll really make it worth your while.” She took my arm and led me to an empty bench near where we’d been walking. Then she proceeded to lay out some of the incentives Jack had already offered, including lots of recognition for me and, more importantly, my Barkery and Biscuits shop. She added some new ones, too, including a sweetening of the financial offer Jack had suggested, to include a potential stake in VimPets. Altogether, it was a fantastic incentive, with the possibility of my being really well compensated.
I’d become a bit tempted before. I was a lot more so now.
If only I could set aside my mistrust and dislike of this woman.
“Very appealing,” I said when she was done. “But I’ll have to think about it.”
“Of course. Meantime, I’ve got the connection to get a company lawyer to write up the offer.”
“Meaning, you can contact the executive who’s your particular friend,” I said. I figured that somehow in all this, she’d get compensated well, too—possibly in bed as well as in the bank.
But what about Jack, if I agreed to what Wanda had offered? Would she lie about their relationship, as she apparently had last night—to get him fired? Or would my cooperation with her save Jack’s job?
Or none of the above?
“That’s right.” Wanda’s grin as she stared at me from across the bench was almost wicked. Then she stood up. “You get the drift of what’s going on, and how VimPets can do great things for you. I’ll be in town for a few more days and we can talk some more. In fact, we will talk some more. You can be sure of it. And let me know if you think of any questions.”
I already had—about Jack.
And about my friend Billi, who cared about Jack—or at least she had, for a while. In any event, I did like the guy as a person, and now even as a friend.
I didn’t get into that, though. Instead, I gently pulled on Biscuit’s leash. “Okay,” I said. “I will.”
“I can tell you’re intrigued,” she asserted as we headed back toward the street crossing.
“Yes,” I acknowledged, without suggesting anything more.
“In case you’re free, Jack and I are having dinner again tonight at the Knobcone Heights Resort. Inside, this time, without dogs. We’ve scheduled a date.”
A date date, or a business meeting, or something else altogether? I didn’t ask.
“We’d love for you to join us,” she added.
As a buffer between them, or would they both discuss the offer to buy recipes from me and their respective ideas about why and what? Or, again, something else altogether? I didn’t see either of my first two guesses as logical. Plus, I wondered if they would remain civil enough to each other to have a pleasant meal.
Still, I was curious. And, if I was honest with myself, I was intrigued by what Wanda had said. I didn’t have to like the woman to do business with her, assuming she had all the authority she claimed.
Impulsively, I said, “Sure. I’ll join you for dinner tonight.”
And wondered if I should wear some kind of armor to protect myself from the slings and arrows of corporate conflict that were likely to be shot between Wanda and Jack.
Five
Dinner that night wouldn’t exactly be the private date with Reed I’d anticipated, but I knew it would at least be different from the night before—despite the location being nearly the same, and some of the participants, too.
For the rest of the day after Wanda left, I pondered what I was doing to Jack by even speaking with her.
Well, heck. Jack was supposed to join us for dinner. It couldn’t hurt him—probably—if I just continued to listen, and then charted my course after that. Maybe it would even work out well for him if I helped him find a way to acquire healthy recipes from me while downplaying any involvement of Wanda and the exec she supposedly had some kind of relationship with.
Eventually it was time to close my shops and take Biscuit home—I gave her food, drink, and some extra loving and treats. I arrived at the resort a bit before six thirty, our scheduled time, and headed straight through the arched doorway from the lobby into the restaurant. I’d already told Neal what I was up to, but since he wasn’t invited to this dinner I chose not to wave hello to him. I’d see him later that night anyway, or so he’d said during our phone call.
The restaurant was quite busy, as usual. Lots of di
ners, many as nicely dressed as I was, sat at tables of various sizes bedecked in pristine white tablecloths. The noise level suggested a myriad of conversations, and quite a few servers strode between the tables, often with plates of food in their hands.
I’d chosen to wear a suit that evening, a cobalt gray one of a fabric that shimmered. My blouse was a lighter shade of gray, and I wore a small blue pendant around my neck. My black heels were high but fell short of stiletto.
As soon as I entered, I spotted Wanda at a table right in the center. It would hold four diners, but as far as I knew, there would just be three of us.
However, I found I was wrong shortly after I’d walked over to greet her and she, despite my taking a step back, managed to give me a hug. “Thanks for coming, Carrie,” she gushed.
She, too, was dressed up, although of course I expected that of her. Her dress was short, as before, but a shade of pale yellow, and flowing this time so that her slight plumpness was hidden in its plentiful material. Her slim legs showed once again, and unlike me she did wear stilettos, in gold.
Her short blond hair was unchanged, a curly golden cap. Mine was lighter and highlighted, somewhat longer, and, I believed, more of a frame around my face.
But our hair and clothes wouldn’t be what was important. What we planned to talk about, and how it went, was the reason I’d come.
“So glad you’re joining me here tonight,” Wanda said. “I think we’ll both have a very good evening.”
“I hope so.” I looked around as I sat down. I’d never known Jack to be anything but prompt, but he wasn’t here yet.
“Hi, Carrie,” said Gwen, coming over to our table and handing us menus. I was pleased she was working inside this evening rather than on the patio. “Welcome to both of you. May I bring you drinks?”
“Someone else is joining us,” I said, “but, yes, I’d love a drink now.”
I needed a small boost, so I ordered a glass of merlot again. Wanda asked for a martini.
I glanced around once more for Jack—and was surprised to see Billi making her way through the restaurant. I was even more surprised when she joined us at our table. She was dressed as if she had just attended a City Council meeting, and maybe she had. Her suit was dark, her blouse tailored … and the expression on her usually lovely face suggested she was steaming inside. “Hi, Carrie,” she said, then looked at Wanda. “So why am I here?” she asked as she took a seat at Wanda’s other side.
Bad to the Bone Page 4
