by Jean Oram
Seth was in trouble. The chain would soon follow, meaning she’d lose Frankie’s inheritance if she didn’t find a way out of Seth’s mismanagement and over-extension mess. He hadn’t done enough market research and had expanded too quickly.
But Seth had a nice boat. You didn’t go buying nice stuff if you were in trouble unless…
No. Of course not. He wouldn’t go buying a big yacht in order to run away at some point. That was silly. This wasn’t a movie. This was real life.
Mandy massaged her temples. This wasn’t Seth’s first trip to the rodeo. Look at the way he’d allowed her to modify her agreement in order to protect her interests. Someone who was about to flee or take franchisees for all they had didn’t do that. Plus, he’d lent her money.
The articles were probably about one little case of mismanagement--thanks to Lexi’s branch--as well as Seth expanding too fast and missing a few details that got the suits upset. On the yacht Mandy had noticed Lexi seemed to have an ax to grind and she didn’t doubt that Lexi was behind the ruckus. Seth would buy her out and the rest of them would live happily ever after.
Problem solved.
She laughed at poor attempt to convince herself it was all going to be okay and got up to fix herself another drink.
Frankie burst into the room again, sending Portia back under the couch and Mandy spilling ice cubes across the counter.
“Didn’t you do research?” he asked in a pained voice.
“Yes!” Mostly.
Frankie shifted his weight, his face pale.
“You won’t lose your grandpa’s building, Frankie. No matter what. I promise.”
He met her eyes and she read his mind, grabbing her coat and purse. It was time for a trip to the city because it was a lot harder to escape difficult, pointed questions when you had to look someone in the eye. And that was exactly what she planned to make Seth do--look her in the eye and spill the truth.
Mandy tore through the mountain roads, Frankie groaning as he grabbed at things to hold him in his seat. “Could you slow down? My shoulder is killing me. It’s not like Seth’s going to make a break for it and’ll be gone if we get there two minutes later.”
Mandy shot him a look. “I’m within speed limits.”
“Corners aren’t supposed to be taken at the speed limit in a jacked up truck.”
He groaned as she took another corner.
Sighing, she slowed for the next curve. “Fine. But sometimes you need to use what the Ford company gave you.”
“Right now your V8 isn’t very sexy, Mandy.”
“How do I get my old Frankie back from the aliens that took over his body?”
“Shut up,” he muttered and slumped sullenly.
Mandy tore through the avalanche tunnels with nothing but the hum of tires and air whooshing past them as they blew by the rows of vertical supports. The setting sun flickered through the openings, blinding her in strobe-like regularity. There were so many things she could, and should, and probably wouldn’t say to Seth. But to be able to see him, in front of her, defending himself, explaining it all…she needed that. And she owed it to the agonized best friend sitting beside her.
After driving through the city of Dakota, Mandy parked in front of a nondescript two-story building still covered with spring grime, despite it being June. Under the streetlight, a window washer patiently and methodically squeegeed the front window of a dry cleaner’s. She glanced at the second story. Lights on.
Frankie appeared at her side on the sidewalk. “I’m coming with you,” he said firmly.
“Of course, but I’m doing the talking. He doesn’t know who you are.”
“What?”
“Frankie,” Mandy said, trying to keep her exasperation in check. “You’re a silent backer. You haven’t signed anything that has to do with him.”
Frankie’s mouth turned down and she softened her tone, stepping toward him. “You’re the glue behind the scenes. I couldn’t do this without you and definitely wouldn’t have made it this far.” She gave his arm a quick squeeze and turned to the door, pausing to lift herself onto her toes to plant a light peck on his cheek. “Come on. Let’s go talk to a man about a screwed up horse.”
Frankie, his demeanor softer than it had a moment ago, let out a chuckle and followed her up the wooden steps to the top floor. Mandy rapped on the door to Seth’s office apartment. When nobody answered, Frankie leaned over and knocked again, louder.
Footsteps shuffled on the other side of the door and for a second, Mandy worried she had the address completely wrong--even though she’d been there only a few weeks ago to finalize her contract--and was about to interrupt an elderly couple preparing for bed.
“Who’s there?” a muffled voice called after Frankie knocked again.
“Open up, Seth,” Frankie said. He shot Mandy a wink and added, “Police!”
The door slowly opened a crack. Seth’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and the door swung all the way open. “What the…?” He glanced from Frankie to Mandy to Frankie again.
Mandy squeezed past Seth, her purse clacking against the doorway.
Seth slid a large box to the side with his foot, ice cubes clinking in his glass filled with amber liquid. “New menus,” he explained quietly, his eyes on Frankie, who had followed Mandy in and was now standing tall, legs spread, arms crossed. She laid a hand on his arm, giving him a light nudge to get his attention. He met her eye and slowly relaxed his stance, even though the vibe coming off him was still very much Bruce Willis with a vendetta. She tried not to think about how sexy that was.
Mandy presented the internet article to Seth, who was still standing by the door. The man paled and pulled the door open further. He said to Frankie, “This is going to be a confidential business meeting.”
“I’m staying.” Frankie reassumed his bodyguard stance. “I’m her financial backer.”
“Your backer?” Seth asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.
She shot Frankie a look to indicate he needed to shut his cute little yap.
Seth narrowed his eyes at Mandy and Frankie, his mouth drawn in a tight line.
“Didn’t you look at my financials? It was obvious I needed a backer.” She crossed her arms, knowing it didn’t matter to him or their agreement if she had a backer.
“I thought you couldn’t liquidate your assets without taking a hit.” He sighed and rubbed his mouth. “I would have appreciated knowing you weren’t able to afford this.”
Mandy moved closer, watching as guilt flashed across his face, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. “Then I suppose you should have asked.”
Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I like you. I’ll make sure it all works out.”
“You’d better,” Frankie muttered and Mandy shot him another look.
Seth handed the article back to Mandy. “Lexi’s holding a grudge and wants to see me sweat. Instead of letting me buy her out because she’s unhappy, she wants to take her grievance public. You’ll still be opening in a few short months.” He edged closer to the door as though planning to end their conversation.
“The article said you’re overextended.”
Frankie closed in behind Mandy, a tall, strong brick tower and she loved the way he had her back but worried that a softer approach might work better to get the information they needed.
The man looked from Mandy to Frankie and sighed. “You may as well have a seat.” He pointed to a low, elegant couch covered in papers and menus. “Just shove stuff out of the way.” He turned his back and poured himself a cup of coffee from a pot set on a side table. He turned to them, holding up the pot. “Want some?”
They shook their heads, not moving to sit down. Despite having spent hours here signing papers Mandy still wasn’t sure if this old apartment served as the franchise headquarters, a home office, a test kitchen, or Seth’s home. It was filled with table and chair samples, posters, desks and tons of signs. And there were definitely more boxes than last time s
he was here.
Seth settled into the armchair across from the still vacant couch, his posture stiff.
“So?” Mandy finally said, settling in across from Seth, leaning forward. She glanced at Frankie, who stayed by the door, arms crossed. “What’s really going on and what does it mean for me and my outlet?”
Seth took a slow swallow of his coffee. For a moment, it appeared as though he wasn’t going to answer. “Lexi’s second location never got off the ground properly because a competitor opened up next door.” He rubbed his temples in exaggerated circles like he was doing some mumbo-jumbo mind trick on himself.
“And?” Mandy prompted.
He shook his head slowly and let out a long, defeated-sounding sigh. “It’s been a problem. And because the chain shot out of nowhere the press is having a field day and blowing things out of proportion. We’re going to be okay.” He nodded to himself. He didn’t sound very convincing.
“The news says the franchise is in danger.”
“Look, Lexi’s store can fail and Wrap it Up will still survive. It’s a healthy brand. We’re on trend. It’s what people want and you opening a new store is a sign of faith.” He threw his hands up and gave a short, stressed laugh. “Who knows! Maybe this will be great publicity for all of us.”
He hurried to one of the boxes. “In the meantime, I have something for you.” He handed her an envelope.
She poked at the document inside. It was a copy of the disclosure statement she’d signed weeks ago--a reminder, obviously, to remain quiet about their conversation and Lexi’s troubles. He passed her a trifold brochure and did a Vanna White-style hand gesture over it. Mandy cautiously unfolded it and unsuccessfully tried to hold in a soft gasp. It had a photo of her, all business-like, with her hair incredibly glossy and smooth. She looked exactly like the person she’d always struggled to be.
“This is so amazing,” she whispered, unable to look away from her image.
No.
She lowered the brochure. He was trying to distract her. She may have been naive enough to fall for him maneuvering around issues last month, but not today. He wasn’t just messing with her now, he was messing with her best friend Frankie and the building his grandfather had left for him in hopes it would change his life.
“If you want my outlet to open on schedule as an ‘act of faith’ you’re going to need to do something about the kitchen equipment.”
“It’s been delayed,” he said offhandedly.
She met his eye but his gaze skittered away. “I am well aware of that. I am also aware that if it is delayed by three more days you’ll be in breach of contract according to the delivery schedule we both signed.” She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to lean against Frankie for support. She’d stood up to her older brothers a million times, but this was much scarier. This guy wasn’t family--he didn’t have to still get along and love her at the end of the fight.
Seth didn’t answer and she continued, “If my backlogged equipment isn’t there and ready to be installed by your men on Wednesday, I’ll be forced to take pointers from Lexi.” Her knees grew shaky at the threat but she forced herself to tip up her chin, be strong.
Frankie gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Seth paled, a sheen of perspiration breaking over his forehead.
“Of course,” he said, his voice strangely light. “I’ll call my distributor first thing in the morning and give them what-for. Anything else?”
“Yes. You said this was a business in a box and that anyone can run it.”
“Anyone can.”
“Then why is Lexi failing--especially if she already had a location that was succeeding?” She held up a hand to quiet him. “I understand a bigger place opened next door, but still.”
Seth ran a hand through his hair. “I already told you: mismanagement.”
“Yes, but what exactly?” She needed to know exactly what all of this stuff meant to her own bottom line and ability to function. If the chain went under, there went pretty much everything she was counting on to help her succeed.
“Mismanagement,” he said, not bothering to hide his exasperation.
“What do I know about management or mismanagement? I’m just a waitress. Spell it out, Seth.”
Seth paled again and he let out what sounded like a swear under his breath.
“A fine waitress,” Frankie added, pushing out his chest, “who manages that whole restaurant--the best one in town, I might add.”
Mandy shot him a grateful look with a hint of shut-the-heck-up. She turned back to Seth. Her waitressing past seemed to be news to him which meant he’d obviously fallen for her ‘upgrading’ of her résumé during the application process. What else had he overlooked?
“Then you do know management?” Seth asked carefully.
“I don’t have formal training.” And nothing for running an entire business. Doubt swamped her like a rowboat caught in an ocean storm. She began shaking her head, leaning away from the men. This was too much. She needed to shut up, go home, think this through, then bury her head under her pillow and cry herself quietly to sleep. It was too much. Hard work wasn’t the same as knowledge. And she definitely didn’t have the knowledge.
She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to beat back her fears as well as her tears. Why had she even tried to be the woman in the brochure? That woman had been touched up to look like the real thing--all capable and fancy--but the real Mandy was in over her head and freaking out.
“I like you Mandy. We’re going to find a way to make this work, okay?” Seth looked pained. “Maybe we can get you some classes?”
She didn’t have time to take get degree in how to start her own business. The place was supposed to be open by the time fall classes commenced. Besides, she couldn’t afford college even if she could find the time.
She should have stayed realistic about her abilities. Now she was leaping into a troubled franchise like a two-year-old into a mud puddle.
She sagged into the couch, exhausted. Overextended. Overwhelmed.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Seth pushed a heavy hardcover into her hands. Numbly she looked at it. A textbook on restaurant management. Great. So she could read about how much she didn’t know. Really brilliant.
He slipped another book on top of it: Even Dolts Can Run a Franchise: The How to, Why to, and What to. Mandy laughed, despite herself.
She was losing her mind. The stress had finally caused her to snap.
“Are you calling me a dolt?” she joked feebly.
“They’re good books. You can learn almost everything you need to know online, for free, from the comfort of your home.” He was getting excited, bouncing around the room, filling her arms with books. “We can put everything on pause. I’ll hold the money you’ve paid in trust and when you’re ready we’ll move forward with the kitchen equipment and everything else. This is the way to go.”
She began shaking her head, swallowing her fears. She had to go ahead as scheduled. She needed an income to pay for everything she’d set up so far--she couldn’t afford to chicken out.
“You sure?” Seth asked. “It’s not a problem to delay. In fact--”
“It’s fine.” She stood and gave him her best tough gal stare down. “Trust me. I’ve got this.”
He watched her, arms crossed. “Okay. But do you trust me?”
And despite everything she’d read in the papers, she did. She probably trusted him more than she trusted herself although now she wasn’t so certain where that left them.
11
The moment of truth had arrived. Mandy had got things moving along enough that she could officially quit her job. The job she’d had for years. Her security blanket. Her home away from home. Her only source of income. (She tried not to panic too horribly at that thought.) However, it was time to step off the bridge and into the unknown. Her new place was going to require her to be there twenty-four-seven from now until its opening at the end of next month. She still didn’t have all of her ki
tchen equipment, but it had been trickling in since her chat with Seth and she reminded herself that it would all be okay. It had to.
Because as of today she was no longer a waitress. No longer a nothing.
And it felt good. She wanted to give a cheery Queen’s wave to the party dwellers Benny had gathered in her honor and ride off into the sunset.
She smiled at her brother, Ethan, who had that nervous look in his eye--the one he always had before his surgeries. She reminded herself that she was doing this to change his life, too. He now had a few web jobs thanks to her, but she also had a secret plan to wrangle him into using her new, almost-installed kitchen to help prep meals for Jen’s excursions. She’d had to beg, plead, and whine, but in the end Jen had agreed to try offering a bit of catering for the summer months and see what happened. Even though neither of them would be making a profit for some time--if ever.
She stepped from the corner where she’d been watching people and her Great Aunt June grabbed her wrist.
“Mandy!”
Mandy gave her aunt a big hug. “So glad you could make it.”
Her aunt pulled in her friends, closing the circle around Mandy. “This is all so terribly exciting!” she said, cheeks glowing.
“Isn’t it?” Mandy agreed. June gave her a squeeze.
“Our little Mandy’s no longer just a waitress, now she’s a business owner. With her very own restaurant.”
Mandy smiled sheepishly.
June released her with an extra squeeze. “So? Do relatives get free eats?” She raised an eyebrow and batted her eyelashes a few times.
“If I did that,” Mandy laughed, “I’d have to charge those who weren’t family--or like family--fifty dollars a sandwich just to keep the doors open.”
“I thought you were selling wraps, dear?” one of the friends asked.
“Sandwiches and wraps. Well, there are submarine sandwiches, too.”
