by KE Payne
Freddie might even like to hang out after the cafe closed. Who knew?
“Only one way to find out, Grainger.” Tag pulled the duvet back and swung her legs down. She padded to the shower room, her feet soft against the carpet. Freddie could guide her in the right direction over the mill. She was smart like that. As well as cool. Tag liked her. And Skye. So where was the harm now in just hanging out with the girl for a few hours?
*
“It’s Tim, right?” Tag approached the teenager behind the counter at the mill cafe, her satisfaction when he nodded his head in response, that she’d actually managed to remember the kid’s name, contrasting with her disappointment that Freddie wasn’t the face that now greeted her.
“Blair’s around somewhere.” Tim wiped his hands on his apron and came out from behind the counter. “Out back, I think.”
“Okay, cool.” Tag picked up a slightly frayed menu from the counter and looked at it. She put it back down. Where was Freddie? Her anticipation at seeing her again had amplified on the drive up to the cafe. Now all Tag felt was flat. “Although I didn’t really come up here to see him, to be honest.” She looked around her. “Is Freddie working today?”
“Emergency at home or something,” Tim said. “Not coming in this morning.” He went back behind the counter. “Good job. It’s dead in here.” He opened his arms out to an empty cafe. “Coffee?”
“Make it a cappuccino?” she asked hopefully.
“Is this my test?”
“I’m sorry?”
“See what kind of coffee I make for the boss? Mess up and I’m out on my ear?”
“Shit, no.” Who did he think she was? Mafia?
“Chill,” Tim said. “I was just teasing.” He switched the coffee machine on and came to join Tag at her table. “If you’re anything like your dad and your brother, then you’ll be a fair and decent person to work for. That’s all any of us ask.”
“Hey, it’s nothing to do with me,” Tag said. “Seriously, I have no experience of being in charge of people, so I won’t be telling you lot what to do.” He didn’t need to know right now she wouldn’t even be hanging around long enough to be shown how a coffee machine worked.
“Us lot?” Tim queried. “It’s just me, Freddie, and Vernon in here. No need for any more.”
“Ah, but who’s in charge of who?” Tag joked.
“Freddie keeps us both in order.” Tim grinned.
“She a good boss?”
“The best.” Tim got up from the table again as the coffee machine finished steaming. “I’d have to say, Freddie Metcalfe is the nicest, fairest, and best boss I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll tell her that,” Tag said. She knew she would too. “You like working here?”
“Are you compiling a profile on us?” Tim laughed. He handed her the cappuccino.
“I just wondered what it’s like,” Tag said. She took a long drink from her mug and licked froth from her top lip. “What customer numbers are like, what sort of menu you offer. That kind of thing.”
“Well, the food’s great, but we don’t get much passing traffic through here since the bypass opened three years ago,” Tim said. “That’s what the others told me, anyway. It’s a shame. Freddie’s cakes are awesome.” He nodded his head towards the counter. “But let’s just say, we never run out of them.”
Somehow Tag knew Freddie’s cakes would be awesome. She was an awesome kind of girl. Tag gazed round. A total of three customers sat at tables. “So it’s this quiet every day?” Her mother would be sad at the thought of her cafe being so empty.
“Sundays are okay. Ish. But…”
“What?”
“The rest of the week tends to be like this, if I’m honest.” Tim’s face flickered. “I feel as though I’m being a sneak.”
“It’s better that I know as much as possible early on.” Tag stirred her coffee, staring deep in thought as ripples circled inside the cup with every move of her spoon. The cafe had always been the heart of the mill when she was growing up, so she’d assumed it would be the same now. Perhaps it really was time to man up and take a long, hard, look at those accounts. Her disappointment at Freddie’s absence had peaked. Pointless hanging around the cafe if she wasn’t there. The place was empty enough as it was; without Freddie there, it was even more soulless.
“Everything okay?” Tim asked.
“Mm?” She lifted her eyes from her cup.
“You were miles away for a second there.”
“Just thinking that I’d better go.” Tag drained her coffee and then stood. She held her hand out for Tim’s cup. “I have a heap of paperwork to sift through.” Not Anna’s, though. She could wait some more. Right now she needed to have some thinking time. Maybe jot down a few calculations. Think some more about Freddie, as if that were even possible. Tag took Tim’s cup from him then walked behind the counter and placed both cups in the sink. “Although”—she faced Tim—“if you’re a person short here today I guess I should stay and help. In case you get an afternoon rush?”
Way to go being a boss, Grainger.
“Nah, you’re good.” Tim stood up and came to the counter. “And to be honest I’d rather be here today being paid than stuck at home doing nothing.” He flicked the towel over his shoulder and started filling the sink with hot water.
“If you’re sure?” Tag buttoned up her jacket and made for the door.
“Sure.” Tim nodded back over to her then turned his attention back to the sink. “If we get a sudden rush, I’ll call for you.” He smiled at his own joke.
“Deal.” With a nod of her head, Tag left the cafe and made for her car. Head bowed over her phone as she walked, she did a neat sidestep without looking up as a blue Ford came past her and pulled into the space next to hers.
“Can’t stay away, huh?”
Tag’s head snapped up. Freddie peered out from her wound-down window as she pulled on the brake and cut the engine. She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and got out of the car, slamming her door shut behind her.
Disappointment to happiness in a nanosecond. The Freddie effect. It had so been worth dropping by the cafe after all.
“Your window?” Tag lifted her chin towards Freddie’s still-open driver’s window.
“You think anyone’s going to nick anything from this heap of junk?”
“No, I don’t.” Tag loved the look on Freddie’s face—amused and playful. Sexy. Tag sat back against her own car, so they were now facing one another, and held her look. “But I do think your car will be full of snow by the time you get back to it if you don’t shut the window.” She put her hands in her jacket pockets. “Bearing in mind the revolting weather forecast I’ve just seen for later this afternoon.” She pulled one hand out of her pocket and lifted her phone in the air.
“You,” Freddie said, waggling a finger at her, “are definitely a Grainger.” She shoved herself away from her car door and opened it, winding up the window. “I could just hear your dad saying something like that.”
A vision of her father came crashing around Tag. His voice and his laugh. It had been too long, Tag thought, since she’d heard it.
“So, I just met Tim,” Tag said. Adam disappeared once more. “Nice guy.”
“Very nice guy, yeah. Good kid to work with.”
“He said you weren’t coming in today. An emergency at home or something?” Prying. Whatever.
“All sorted.” Freddie waved her hand. “Skye’s hamster managed to wriggle its way out of its cage. I found it behind the wood burner, eating a piece of chocolate.”
“She has a hamster? That’s cute.”
“She nearly didn’t have a hamster, though.” Freddie shuddered. “Were you just heading off?” She motioned towards Tag’s car.
“Mm.” Tag delved into her jeans pocket and pulled her car keys out. “I did come to talk to you about the cafe’s weekly turnover,” she said, “but it can wait.”
“We could go talk now.” Freddie signalled to the c
afe.
And talk shop? Tag knew she’d rather talk about her. “I think Tim’s told me enough already.”
“You’ve been here five minutes and you’re asking my guy questions behind my back already?” Freddie laughed, but there was no humour in it.
Tag stopped dead. “I said I came to see you,” she said. “And I haven’t been asking questions behind your back, thank you.” Why had Freddie taken it the wrong way?
“So why focus on the cafe alone?” Freddie looked irritated. “You should look at the other parts of the mill too. Not just the cafe. That’s not fair.”
“I will do.” Tag was exasperated. “Another time.” Freddie had her all wrong. She’d had gone up to see her, not snoop. What had started off as being a pleasant opportunity to see Freddie on the off chance she was working had rapidly turned into a discussion Tag hadn’t anticipated and wasn’t prepared for. “Let’s just say the sooner I go back, look at some paperwork, and have a chat to Blair, the better.” Tag rested a shoulder against her car. She saw the worry that floated across Freddie’s face.
“So can I ask what you’re looking for in amongst all this paperwork?”
“No.” Tag smiled pleasantly. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
“But I do,” Freddie said firmly. She jerked her head to the cafe. “This is my cafe. If there’s something bothering you about it, then I want to know.”
“It might be your cafe, but it’s my family’s responsibility,” Tag corrected. Seriously? They were seriously having this conversation? “I don’t want you to have to shoulder any of the worry.”
“Please don’t patronize me,” Freddie said. “I thought your family had enough respect to not hide the truth from me. And I am still in charge up here. At least that’s what it says on my job description.”
An unexpected atmosphere shimmered.
“The mill.” Tag sighed. She so didn’t want to do this right now. “The mill’s having a tougher time than we first thought.” Tactful. “I need to try and work out what we can do to get it going again.”
“Financially?”
Tag nodded. “You know the cafe’s not been doing so well,” she said. “Truth is, the rest of the place isn’t so good either.”
“How bad is it?” Freddie asked. “I know about the cafe, but—”
“It’s more than just about the cafe’s profits.” Should Tag sugar-coat it? Or just tell her the truth? The truth won. “We owe money all over the place.”
“Lots?”
“Enough.”
“So what does that mean for all of us?” Freddie tried to keep the wobble from her voice.
“Unless things start to pick up again,” Tag said, “we might have to reduce staff.”
“And if that doesn’t help?”
“Then I guess Blair and I will have to sell the mill to an investor.”
“That can’t happen.”
“What choice would we have?” Tag threw out her arms. “We can’t keep the place going if it’s leaking money faster than a dripping tap.” She was disappointed. Flirtation with Freddie had dropped to serious conversation about the mill, and Tag resented it. “Which is what it’s doing now.”
“Hang on,” Freddie shot back. “I need this job.” She stared at Tag as she gathered her thoughts. “You don’t seem to get that. I have responsibilities.”
“Don’t we all?” Tag shrugged.
The shrug seemed to elicit an instant change in Freddie. “It’s all right for you. You’re not exactly laden with ties and responsibilities.” Freddie swept a look to her. “But some of us have people relying on us.”
“Oh yeah?” Tag was hurt by Freddie’s anger. Confused by her change in attitude, like Tag had said or done something wrong, when all she was doing was trying to help. Okay, two could play at attitude. “Well, right now I’ve got Blair relying on me, haven’t I?” Her voice rose slightly. “You think I need all this too?”
“And I have a child relying on me.” Freddie retorted. “So do you think that I need all this?”
Tag didn’t respond.
“The mill is my life,” Freddie said slowly. “If I don’t have that, then I’m screwed and so is Skye.”
“Which is why I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure it stays open,” Tag said. “And I do understand that my situation’s probably different from yours.” Resentment tore through her—for the mill, for her situation. For this stupid argument she was having with Freddie.
“Not probably.” Freddie brushed her off. “Is. It’s totally different from mine.”
“But you have to understand,” Tag stressed her point, “if the place is leaking money, then I have to do something.”
Freddie stared at Tag. Suddenly she understood. “You have no idea about me, or my life,” she said. “You have no idea how much I need the mill. How much I rely on it.” How could she have been so naive? Tag didn’t care about the mill or about her or Skye. All she cared about was profit margins and how much money her new business was going to make her. “It’s all about the money for you, isn’t it?” Freddie was furious with herself for being sucked in by Tag. For believing her. For lending an ear so many times in the cafe when Tag was upset, when all Tag was interested in was whether she could feather her own nest. Blair had been right all along. She was unreliable. Selfish.
“It’s not about the money,” Tag argued. “You’re sounding just like Blair did when I first came here. I don’t give a shit about the money. What I do give a shit about, though, is trying to support a dying business if it’s clear it should have been put out of its misery years ago.”
“That dying business,” Freddie said, “is my life. Is everyone’s life. Has been for years. Without it, we have nothing. Without it, Skye has nothing. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“I do understand,” Tag replied. “I know you need to work for Skye.” To Freddie’s dismay, Tag reached for her. “Why are you angry with me? It’s not like it’s my fault, any of this.”
Freddie wrenched her arm away. “You’re my employer.” She hitched her bag over her shoulders. “Nothing more than that. I was stupid to ever think—” She stopped herself. Time to backtrack. “As an employer it’s up to you to make sure your staff are all looked after.”
“Which I will.” Tag stood her ground. “I promise.”
“Even though you’re not sticking around?”
“Even though.”
“I’m worried.” Now it was Freddie who stood her ground.
“I know. I just need to take a look at the cafe’s accounts, that’s all,” Tag said. “Figures. Profits,” she said. “Perhaps we can talk about it tomorrow at the park?”
“You’re still coming?”
“You still want me to come?” Tag asked. “I did kind of promise Skye.”
Of course I want you to come. I’ve thought of nothing else since Skye asked you. “Skye’s psyched that you’re coming.” Freddie knew that wasn’t the answer Tag was looking for.
“Seriously? That’s sweet.”
“She forms attachments quickly.” Freddie cut her glance away and focused on a point in the distance. “If I told her you weren’t coming, well…” She pulled her attention back to Tag. “Just don’t let her bug you too much tomorrow, okay? She can be a bit full-on.”
“I won’t.” Tag seemed calmer again. “And we will talk about the cafe tomorrow, I promise.”
“Yes.” Freddie lifted her chin. “We definitely will.”
Chapter Twelve
The ringing of her phone the next morning woke Tag from a light sleep that had been punctuated by vivid dreams of Blair, her father, and the mill. Her conversations over the past few days with Blair about the mill’s finances had weighed heavily on her, and her dreams that night had been racked with unease, as she wondered what else she’d find out. There had been arguments in her dreams. Accusations. Worries about how much money the mill was losing. Her father was refusing to accept anything she was saying. There had been a
lot of shouting, too, and Tag worried as she fumbled for her mobile on the bedside cabinet, that she’d been shouting in her sleep. The last thing she needed was a question-and-answer session with Connie over her cornflakes.
“Tag Grainger,” Tag sleepily answered her phone. She extended her legs out straight under the duvet and stretched her toes, enjoying the satisfying pull on her calf muscles.
“Hey.” Anna’s voice diffused through Tag’s tired brain. “Just thought I’d touch base with you. See how you’re doing.”
“Oh. Right.” Tag rolled onto her side, phone still clamped to her ear. It was Saturday. Why the fuck was Anna ringing her on a Saturday? She drew her knees up to her chest. “What time is it?” She looked up towards the curtains. A half-light poked through the gap.
“Eight,” Anna said. “I’m playing golf at nine so I’m kicking my heels for a bit at home.”
“Stefan’s not there, I’m guessing?”
“He’s just gone,” Anna said. “So, how’re you? I’ve not rung to talk about Stefan.”
“I’m all right, yeah,” Tag replied truthfully. “It’s not been as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Good,” Anna replied. “I found the Milton stills, by the way.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I texted you the other day about them.”
“You did, yes. Sorry.” The Milton files? Tag had already forgotten about them.
“You didn’t reply.”
“No. I was busy.” Tag’s thrumming nerve reappeared in her jaw. Anna had a habit of making it return. “Anna?”
“Mm?”
“It’s difficult for me to be thinking about work right now.” How could she put this politely? “I’ve taken time off to sort out my father’s things. I could do without the distractions.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been bugging you.” Anna gave a small laugh. “But we are still paying you. I can get someone else in to do it if you can’t cope.”
