by Jean Oram
"People really come from all around? To this place."
"They do." Her back straightened more. His tone wasn't exactly insulting, but the surprise in his voice put her off. Damn city boys. They just didn't get it.
"And you feel this area can sustain another eatery?" he said.
"I do."
He let out a 'Hmm' and a small smile. "Interesting. Do you believe these kinds of people—" he tipped his head with slight distain toward John, the town lawyer who looked distinctly non-lawyerly and was chugging a cup of coffee "—would be interested in the Wrap it Up menu?"
"Well, as I mentioned, there are a fair number of tourists looking for fast and healthy..." She paused as she followed Seth's glance around the diner. There were no tourist types present, other than the two of them in their business garb. She cleared her throat. "There are many members of the community with dietary restrictions—real or self-imposed—who can't eat out because there's nothing to meet their needs. I feel Wrap it Up would not only fit their needs, but be a thriving hub during the weekends."
"Damn, but I do love potential franchisees who come prepared." He nodded with a small, pleased smile. His gaze focused on her rather large pair of cubic zirconias. "Do you have a business plan?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I have a draft, yes." Oh, no. This was where she lost it all. She slowly pulled a stapled document from her bag, hoping he didn't notice she didn't have a slick briefcase and her business plan was a tad sparse.
She nudged the document toward Seth. "I welcome your input."
In a brisk move, he flipped through a few pages too fast to read the lingo she'd struggled to get right.
She held her breath, wondering why he wasn't reading it so they could discuss every point in deep, businesslike detail.
"I know you filled out an application, but I want to hear, straight from you, why you think you'd make a good candidate. Any management experience?" He held up her business plan as if he was going to quiz her from its pages.
She panicked, adrenalin surging through her veins. She took a quick gulp of her cold coffee. "I've trained new wait staff and prepared the weekly orders for the largest—"
"Yeah, okay." He turned away, his legs crossed.
What the hell? Did he expect a little striptease to keep his attention?
"Look." She spread her hands flat on the table. "This is something I'd rock at and I feel your chain and my goals and values are a match."
He cast her a glance from the corner of his eyes, his expression remaining impassive.
"Do you want to see the building I've got picked out?"
He perked up and swiveled toward her. "Sure! I love revamping buildings."
Smiling, she pushed away from the table and stood. "I'll just have to make a stop along the way and get the key."
"You don't own it?" he asked, his steps slowing.
"Oh—" she waved a hand and gave him a huge, disarming grin "—the uh, caretaker has the key." She flashed her attention around the room, hoping nobody would let that get back to Frankie.
At the door, she let her shoulder brush against Seth's as he held the door for her, shooting him a smile. "It's just a few doors down."
The April breeze chased them down Main Street to the parts store. "I'll be back in a flash," Mandy said. She batted her lashes subtly and pointed at the buildings across the street. "You'll notice the older architecture. I think the character will appeal to the Wrap it Up demographic." She pushed into the store, hoping he wouldn't ask for any details. If they went any deeper into demographics he'd realize how green she really was. And, honestly, the thing with bullshit was that it was best sprayed on quickly then left to dry on its own.
"Frankie," she called as she strode toward him, checking over her shoulder to make sure Seth was staying put on the sidewalk.
He looked up from a parts catalogue at the counter and let out a low whistle. "What are you up to, Miss Serious Business Lady?"
She gave a half curtsey. "Can I borrow the keys to your building?"
Frankie leaned away from the counter and slid his hands into his pockets. "They said you were meeting with some restaurant guy from the city. Said you're opening a Boston Pizza?" He shot her an impressed look as he came around the counter.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm just chatting with a small chain owner about the possibility of opening a wrap place, that's all."
"Good on you. But for future reference, that outfit is a dead giveaway that you're up to something." He eyed her again and put a swagger in his hips. "Come hither, young librarian, and show me 613.9."
She snorted and shoved him away.
Dodger called out from a nearby shelf, where he was taking inventory, "What's 613.9?"
Frankie waggled his brows at Mandy. "Me, baby. All me."
Mandy felt her cheeks burn as she muttered to Dodger, "It's the Dewey Decimal call number for sexual techniques. Frankie has no class." To Frankie, she said, "Come on. Gimme the keys. He's waiting and I don't want to blow my impression."
"Is that him?" Frankie tipped his head toward Seth, who was standing outside, gazing up at the buildings, his cell phone pushed against his ear. "He looks slick."
Mandy glanced at Seth, with his styled short hair, neat suit, and general well-kept look. She glanced back at Frankie, who had grease stains under his nails and was wearing an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt advertising some sort of gear company. Night and day. And right now, she needed day to help her snag night.
"So? Can I show him the building? Is the offer still open?"
"Yeah, of course." Frankie handed her a set of keys from his pocket, his focus still on Seth. "It's the square Weiser one. You sure you want to do business with him?"
"I'm not sure of anything, Frankie."
"Can I meet him?"
She put a hand on his chest. "Frankie. Let me handle this, okay?"
Frankie twisted his mouth into a doubtful shape. "I dunno. Be careful. He seems..." He scrunched up his mouth again.
Mandy stood beside Frankie, staring at the man on the other side of the glass. He was well put together, but what else? Nothing. He was a distracted stranger, but a nice guy. If she wanted to change her life, this guy was her ticket. Frankie needed to relax. Just because she wasn't accepting his help, it didn't mean she couldn't accept it from another man—a businessman.
Seth turned to look inside the store, phone still jammed against his ear, and Mandy popped into action. She thanked Frankie, hustling to meet up with Seth outside.
"I never said you'd be living on a beach in Barbados while someone else did all the work. This is a business, not a get rich quick scheme." Seth's jaw locked as he paced in a circle, muscles working as he flexed his free hand. He inhaled deeply and rolled his eyes at Mandy. He said into the phone, "Well, maybe it is mismanagement. I'll come shadow you next Thursday and we'll get this sorted once and for all." He turned off his phone, holding his breath for a second before letting it out in a whoosh.
Mandy turned away and said lightly over her shoulder as she took a few steps down the sidewalk, "It's this way."
As they walked, Mandy focused on picking the right key off the chain while Seth said, "You know being a franchisee isn't going to make you instantly wealthy, right?"
Mandy shot him an amused grin. "It would be nice if it did but I don't really think that's particularly realistic."
"Exactly!" His arm shot out into the air and he smiled. "Finally. A woman with some bloody sense in her head."
"Right," she said hesitantly.
"Sorry. It's just, one of my franchisees thinks she should be living on an island because she has a Wrap it Up in downtown Dakota. She really doesn't get the clientele or brand. We're about being healthy and sexy. Movie stars like our food. That was how Wrap it Up came to be—I was catering the sets. But she always wants more, even though she has a killer location and is doing fine, financially. I do her books so I know just how well she's doing—it's a perk I offer all franchisees. I encourage it par
ticularly in the first few years, as you'll have your hands full with learning and tweaking your system. I offer to take care of everything financial, from taxes to payroll to debt payments to your royalty payments to deposits—even to paying your bills. Every month, you send it all to me and I take care of it and then send you your own little check a week later. It saves you a lot of time and hassle. Plus, I'm cheaper than an accountant and can offer money saving advice."
"Wow."
"I don't expect you guys to be accountants as well as managers and business owners."
Mandy stopped in front of Frankie's building and smiled at Seth. "That's really nice. I really like the vibe from your company."
"Thanks. I like you, too."
Mandy blushed and worked on jamming the key into the underused lock. "The nice thing about this place," she said, turning to point to the second floor above the neighboring two-storeys, "is that it doesn't have tenants upstairs like most places. You don't have to worry about smells or noise from upstairs apartments in your restaurant."
The lock turned and she let them in. She hadn't been in the building since it was Frankie's grandfather's video store. It was eerie walking into it all bare and empty with no Grandpa Frank there to offer her gumdrops—still her favorite after all these years.
And dirty. The place was really dirty. It was amazing how much dust had sifted in over the past two vacant years.
She waited as Seth stepped over the threshold, his attention riveted to the phone in his hand as he thumbed out a text message. She let the door close behind them and flicked on a few lights, not thinking that, of course, Frankie would have cut the power. Which was maybe a good thing. Light would have only shown how much the place needed cleaning.
"I'll get this place cleaned up and add a nice light color on the walls and it'll look bigger and brighter," she said, trying to think of something business-like to do. What did businesswomen do with their arms? She had her bag over her shoulder and had ditched the keys in it already, leaving both hands free to do something stupid. She clasped them together before unclasping them, trying to find a way to hold herself that looked both open and casual.
Seth glanced up from his phone. "You have to go with Apple Green."
"Sorry?"
"Our décor is dictated for consistency and brand recognition. The film strip banner is mandatory, as are the movie posters."
"Of course," she said quickly. "I'm sure that would really perk up the place and give it a inviting vibe."
"But not too inviting. You want as much turnover as possible, especially in a small space. You don't want people hanging out if they aren't spending money. Get them to empty their wallet and leave. That's the only way a place this small will survive."
"Yes. Right." She nodded, acting as though she knew all this. God, she was in over her head. She didn't think like a cold-hearted businesswoman. She wanted people to come into her restaurant and use her bathroom even if they weren't customers. She wanted people to sit around and drink coffee all afternoon. She didn't want to hustle anyone out the door. Ever.
She was going to have to adjust so many of her habits and ideas in order to fit into the business world.
"So this is it?" He took a brief look, barely moving from his spot by the door. His attention moved back to his phone.
"It is. This wall can come out to create more dining space." She slapped a half wall that cut through the back portion of the room, leaving a dusty handprint. Ugh. She surreptitiously dusted her hands, trying to remind herself not to touch anything else, including her lovely dry-clean-only skirt.
"It's a bit tight but it might do." He stepped to the door.
She met him on the sidewalk, feeling as though he was slipping away. "There's another space that's bigger, although it is at the end of the street. And even though this place is a bit tight, I think it's a better location. Did you want measurements or pictures before I lock up?" She held the door open, in case he wanted to step through it again.
He shook his head and held up his phone. "I've got to skedaddle, but it was a pleasure meeting you." He stepped closer and she could smell his sweet coffee breath warm her cheek. He gave her upper arm a squeeze, his look apologetic. "I'm sorry I wasn't more attentive. I'll look over your application and get back to you within a week."
She watched him peel away in his shiny SUV, feeling as though she'd just lost the winning catch in the middle of a high-stakes fishing derby.
* * *
She let out a defeated sigh as the SUV rounded the corner at the end of Main Street and vanished from sight.
Who had she been trying to kid? Of course she'd lost Seth. She'd dressed up like a businesswoman and thrown some lingo around, but she had to be pretty darn stupid to think all that would fool a true businessman—especially one who had nurtured his successful chain from the ground up. He wouldn't risk his brand and income on some small town girl playing dress-up and hoping to find herself swimming in the big leagues.
The air beside her changed, bringing with it a hint of motor oil and peppermint. Frankie.
"Hey," she said, facing him. Dust from the street blew up and she turned away, shutting her eyes against the grit. She sighed and tried to boost her shoulders up from their slumped position. Maybe when the street cleaners had brushed away the grime and debris from the long winter, she wouldn't feel that oppressing weight pushing her flat against the world and begging her to change her life. Maybe then, she could be happy just the way she was.
"Ran off, huh? I figured he was too slick for us," Frankie said, arms crossed over his chest. He rocked back on his heels and glared in the direction the SUV had gone, as if he had super vision and could still see the man, despite the buildings and distance between them.
"You may as well give in and let Mary Alice open a bingo parlor in your building. I'm pretty sure I won't be needing it." She sighed and began walking toward Benny's Big Burger so she could change into her hideous uniform. If there was ever a fire in the place, she'd become shrink-wrapped in polyester.
Frankie fell into step beside her, walking close, his legs wide, like he was an armed bodyguard with too many muscles to be able to walk properly. Mandy nudged him, trying to knock him out of his tense, protective mode. When he strutted like this, she always feared he was going to go all Mark Wahlberg and lash out at someone as if he was in an action flick.
She turned to face him, jaw set. "What are you doing?"
"Walking with you."
"Why?"
"I can't walk with a friend?" he asked, eyeing other pedestrians through slitted lids as they passed.
Mandy jutted out a hip, arms crossed. "Frankie, you're eyeing everyone like you're angling for a fight. What's up?"
"Nothing." His dark eyes were cloudy.
"Nothing?" She watched him. Then, sighing, she opened her bag and passed him the keys. "Thanks."
"Keep them," he said, pushing the keys back to her, his eyes still on the street.
"Your house keys are on here."
Jaw working, Frankie tugged the building key off the chain and handed it to her. "Who else are you going to interview?"
"That was it. And they interview me, not the other way around."
He pulled the beginning of a fuzzy new soul patch growing below his lip that she hadn't noticed earlier into his mouth and watched her. "Bullshit," he said gently. "You have every right to interview them as well."
"What's this?" she asked and leaned forward to pet the damp bit of hair. Holy hell, that was a sexy look on him. How on earth had she missed noticing it?
Frankie tipped his face out of reach and asked, "What do you mean, 'That was it?' "
"That's the only one I qualify for." She turned on her high heels and began clacking her way down the sidewalk.
"What do you mean the only one?" he asked, his steps timed perfectly with hers.
"Frankie, franchises are incredibly expensive."
"So? Borrow money."
"It's more than you think. Besides, if
it isn't that, it's qualifications. And there's no way I could go independent." Her cheeks burned with the humiliation of not being able to qualify for the one thing she'd finally decided she wanted. Didn't life just love kicking her in the shins? If it wasn't men, it was business—run by men.
She gave Frankie's chest a poke, his leather jacket firm under her finger. "And what about you? I'm pursuing my big adventure." She stepped closer, wanting to take a pound of flesh out of him for knowing how close she was to losing what she wanted.
"And?" he asked, his brows twisted in confusion.
"The TV show?"
His dark eyes narrowed. "What about it?"
She quirked her head. "Are you going to man up and go for it? Or what?"
Frankie pulled the soul patch into his mouth again and she couldn't decide if the action was seductively sexy or simply annoying. Either way, it made her want to move closer and put her fingers over his bottom lip to release the soul patch—whatever that happened to imply.
"I'd have to leave."
"It wouldn't be forever."
"As your business partner, I think I should be around while you set up shop."
"Excuse me? My what? You're my landlord! Should this guy even decide I'm worthy, it could be months before anything actually happens with the building."
"Well, I..." Frankie seemed at a loss.
"There's no reason you shouldn't do this."
Liz, Mary Alice's sister, and second-in-command on the town's gossip circuit, sidled up to them, taking in Mandy's outfit with one sweep and the tension between her and Frankie with another.
"Not now, Liz," Mandy said. "I'm late for work."
"Didn't think you had a shift today," Liz replied. "Who was the man you were meeting with? He had city written all over him."
"A slick piece of work, for sure," Frankie added.
Mandy ignored Liz and focused on Frankie. "Just because he wears a suit doesn't mean he's evil. Some people wear suits and do good, you know." She gave his leather jacketed shoulder a light shove, hating the way his peppermint smell made her want to nuzzle her face against his shoulder.
