by Jean Oram
"He can't be trusted," Frankie said.
"Why? Why not?" asked Liz breathlessly, edging closer.
Mandy rolled her eyes and shoved the door to Benny's open as Frankie caught her elbow. He met her eye and said in a quiet voice, "If it's money you need to go out on your own, I have enough. I can co-sign a loan or I can help you get started with what I have."
"Frankie, you know I can't do that." She caught Liz glancing from face to face, absorbing every word and piling up conclusions like a kid with her first set of building blocks.
"It wouldn't be anything fancy, but it would be yours."
"Look. I appreciate the offer, Frankie. But this isn't about fancy, it's about business, and letting friends be friends and not owing them money or making them business partners."
"You'd rather go with some unknown guy who doesn't give a shit whether you make it or not?"
"Of course he cares! It's his business—"
"Exactly! It wouldn't be yours."
"What do you care?"
"I was under the impression we were friends."
Mandy sucked in a breath, Frankie had moved closer. His breath was hot in her face and his cheeks were flushed.
She took a step back. "Why are you taking this so personally?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"How do you know if he's reputable?" His voice told her he didn't think the man was worth a pickle in a room full of cucumbers.
"Google!" she snapped, backing into Benny's restaurant. "That's how I know. This is business, Frankie. There are contracts people sign."
"Big bloody deal, if he's the one writing them!"
"I'll get them looked over!" she retorted, her voice rising. "What the hell is your problem with me partnering with someone that isn't you?"
A warm, firm hand pressed against her back and she found herself being propelled toward Frankie, out of the building and back out onto the sidewalk. Benny gave her a kind but firm smile. "You're a little early for your shift, Mandy. How about you come back in about fifteen minutes." He glanced at Frankie and added, "Or an hour. Take all the time you need—we'll make do without you."
The door swung shut and she had to close her eyes for a moment to brace herself against the wave of embarrassment.
"It doesn't feel right," Frankie said quietly. He was about a foot and a half away and a gentle look had returned to his eyes.
"I can't put your money at risk, Frankie. That's all there is to it," Mandy said, crossing her arms. "What if I fail?"
"You won't fail."
"Independent businesses have an eighty percent likelihood of failure in the first two years, whereas franchises have a twenty percent chance of failure."
"That's got to be an exaggeration."
"Even if it is, wouldn't it be better to go with some big business that can afford the blow, rather than my best friend? Especially for something as risky as a healthy alternative? Who knows if this place can even sustain another restaurant?"
Frankie's expression softened and he opened his mouth to say something but she continued. "Money between friends is like microwaving butter. It's never the same, nor as good afterwards. It changes."
"At least talk to the Chamber of Commerce and Wini and a few others, okay? I don't like the feel of the guy."
"You didn't even meet him!"
"I didn't have to."
"What? What was wrong with him?" asked Liz.
Mandy jumped, turning to see Liz, her eyes still gleaming, like a child overhearing her parents discussing a possible trip to Disneyland.
"You guys are infuriating," Mandy grumbled. She addressed Frankie. "You need to trust me. I'm a big girl."
"Promise me," Frankie said, gripping her elbow. "Promise you'll look into him more before you agree to anything. Ask for financial records and talk to other franchisees. Okay?"
"Oh, for crying out loud. Is this because he's from the city?"
"Ohhhh," Liz crowed, her hands clasped. "It's going to be like Beth and the Nash-hole all over again!"
Mandy rolled her eyes. It was not going to be like when Nash Leham, the doctor from Dakota, came to Blueberry Springs for a term contract and ended up engaged to Beth while she and Oz were on a break. The town had shot straight into overly helpful and, basically, butted in where they weren't needed making things extra messy for Beth and the two men. And just because she was now looking outside Blueberry Springs as a way to open her own restaurant it did not mean Blueberry Springs needed to get their 'helpful' on and make things messy.
Frankie pointed down the street in the direction Seth had vanished, his eyes flashing. "You were flirting with him, for Christ's sake."
Mandy stepped back as if she'd been slapped. Guilt crept over her before remembering she didn't owe Frankie anything.
"Were you spying on me?"
"Oh, my!" Liz squeaked.
"Liz, fuck off!" they both shouted. They faced each other and exchanged humorous looks as Liz scuttled off.
Mandy stared at Frankie. Flirting was nothing. Heck, it was even expected in the business world. It was one of the currencies gals had. Plus, she was a lowly country girl trying to break in. She needed to work every angle she could. And flirting meant nothing. The men she really couldn't care about were the ones she felt safe pouring it onto.
"You can't discount Seth because of what I do."
Frankie reached out as though he was going to brush her cheek with his thumb but changed his mind at the last minute. "Have some faith in yourself, Mandy."
Mandy drew in a breath. "I appreciate you trying to look out for me. I really do, but..."
"Fine." Frankie threw his hands in the air and backed away, disappointment darkening his face. "Believe what you want to—I'll just shut up."
"Frankie, don't be that way."
"He's in a different league, Mandy. He's not small town. He's trying to accomplish something...different."
"Maybe that's exactly why I need him."
Chapter 8
Mandy glanced out her apartment window and tried to avoid looking at the For Lease sign in Frankie's window. After not hearing from Seth for over two weeks, Mandy had insisted he post the sign to see if he could get a better offer than Mary Alice's.
Gathering up the lists and drawings she'd done for the cruise night website, as well as the prizes list she and Frankie had been working on as separately as possible (he was not impressed with her giving up on her dream so easily), she tucked them in a file folder to take to her brother. She returned to the window to give Portia one last scratch behind the ears, and as she turned to head to the door, she noticed something out of place across the street.
"Son. Of. A. Bitch!"
She didn't know whether to giggle with glee or to panic. Hide or run across the street? She opted for run, dropping the file folder on the kitchen table on her way out. She took the stairs down the narrow passage two at a time, her hands stretched out to the walls to help her keep her balance. She wrenched open the street door and braced herself for a second, gathering her wits.
Seth.
In the flesh.
With his hands cupped around his face as he peered into Frankie's building. Leaning back to check the phone number on the For Lease sign as he pulled out his phone.
Crap!
She burst onto the street, just about knocking over Mary Alice and her small dog.
"Whoa, girl! Who's got your panties on fire?" she hooted.
Mandy brushed past the woman and jaywalked to Seth, the grit under her feet making her do a tender hop. Geez, could she have at least paused for some shoes? The pavement was damn cold.
The scent of coffee mixed with Seth's rich cologne brushed her nostrils and she thought once again about how much he looked like nobody from around here. He was tidy in a way Blueberry Springs men just weren't. They were good looking, healthy and rugged, but not smooth and perfect like this man. She smoothed her fitted sweater and nudged his shoulder with hers, jostling him as he punched numbers into his phone. "Long time,
no see, stranger."
Seth's eyebrows shot up and he stepped back, as though bumping into a best friend overseas. "Mandy?"
"What's up?" He hadn't called. He hadn't e-mailed. And now here he was, long after his I'll-let-you-know deadline, lurking about town.
He glanced at her casual attire and she quickly stepped closer, grabbing his arm and pointing to the grimy windows of the vacant building. "So? Decided to come take another look?" She let her chest press against his arm as she redirected him toward the building. Damn. She didn't have the key on her. How was she going to pull this off without him a) noticing she was shoeless, and b) concluding she was most certainly not a businesswoman?
At least he hadn't come into Benny's and seen her in her hideous uniform, plucking cold French fries out from under a table.
"I was in the area and thought I'd stop in and see about a few things. I'm intrigued by the small town angle." He shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't expect to see you here. More research?"
She cast her eyes up the street and laughed, giving him a flirty look. "You could say that."
"You look casual today." He gave her a smile. "I like it. I understand not wanting to show off your wealth in a small town or when visiting relatives or friends?" He raised his brows after the question, fishing for more about her.
She made a noncommittal sound and ran a hand through her hair, letting the wind blow her mane against his shoulder. "I see you are as spiffy as ever." She toyed with the lapel on his suit jacket and watched his reaction. He liked it.
Good to know. Very good to know.
"If you want to check up on things without me looking over your shoulder, I can go about my business and pretend I don't see you." She took a step back and batted her lashes, giving him a look that indicated it would be impossible not to see him.
He gave her a massive grin. "And what sort of things should I be checking into?"
She shrugged lightly, panic tearing at her innards. "Oh, I don't know..." She hooked her arm through his again.
Seth's careful eye studied her, drawing conclusions. She shifted her weight and his glance moved over her again.
He said carefully, "Actually, I was hoping to talk to the town councilors about some bylaws as well as the economic development board to see what else might be happening in the future here. It's always best to touch base on a more personal level before applications are filled out. Plus, I like to ensure there isn't any scheduled competition that could affect our opening."
"I love it when you talk turkey. Shall we go find the people you need to talk to? I'm curious to hear what they can do for us." As well as whether Blueberry Springs even had an economic development board.
"I don't want to throw you off your plans." Seth moved with a smooth confidence even when he was trying to brush her off. "I'm sure you have your own business to conduct today."
"I do." She allowed her body to bump against his as they walked. She had a feeling he liked to keep his business cards close to his chest and wouldn't exactly love her next question, but Frankie had been right. She needed more info from him—especially if he was considering her application. "Would it be possible for me to chat with some other Wrap it Up franchisees?" His expression closed and she poured on a bit more flirt. "You know—" she gave him a soft smile "—so I can find out what you're like behind the suit." She slid a finger down his chest and laughed softly.
His expression relaxed and he leaned closer. She flashed him a half smile, his ego and business brain debating so clearly, it was like watching a big screen TV.
"I could arrange to speak to them myself," she added, "but I figured it might be better if I came to them through you." She flashed him a thousand watt smile.
"You know...I can do one better," Seth said, slowly. He pulled a card from his inner jacket pocket and, sucking in a long breath, handed it to her. "I brought this along in case I happened across your path."
She accepted the piece of thick linen paper, trying to figure him out.
An invitation.
"I'm having a party for my franchise owners and would love to have you join us. Even though you aren't a member of the Wrap it Up family, you might get the information you need to make your final decision while you mingle with others who own outlets. What do you say?"
Mandy read harbor and yacht and just about fainted on the spot. Where the hell was this party? She wanted franchise info but dang, hanging out and living the life and getting a taste for it all—on a yacht!!!—would certainly be the way to do it.
"Where is this?" She turned the card over and peered at the tiny map printed on the back.
"My yacht."
She blinked hard, as if doing so would clear her mind and suddenly have him owning a yacht make sense. "Your what?" She quickly caught herself. "Where on earth do you store a yacht?"
Man, franchises were the racket to get into. He hadn't been kidding when he'd told her over the phone that owning a franchise was better than going solo as an entrepreneur. Less work, better systems, and more take home pay.
He was living it.
And that was way beyond sexy.
She wanted in. Now.
He chuckled and leaned back on his heels. "You have a bathing suit, right?"
"Naturally." She tore her attention from the card.
"I'll send you better directions. It's not as far as you think. Will you come?" He laid on hand on her forearm. "It's been deemed the water event of the year."
Now that she thought about it, it was possible his so-called yacht was more of a dingy. There'd probably be a bunch of them crammed in, knees to chin, passing around a bottle of cheap wine and taking turns pumping the thing with air.
But what did it matter? She wanted a restaurant and he was her ticket. She didn't doubt this party would give her the info she needed and more.
She made sure she paused lightly before replying, "I'll be there." She barely caught herself before asking if she could bring anything. Something with a fancy invitation like this wouldn't be potluck. She ran a finger over the card. This one card probably cost him more than a whole stack of paper plates. Heck, it probably cost more than the whole set of thank you cards she'd bought after Christmas. This thing had imperfect, feathered edges that looked as though they'd been chewed by a hundred exotic butterflies.
"Well," Seth said, stepping away, "I need to talk to some small town councilors about whether they're chain friendly."
"Blueberry Springs already has a Friendly Fries."
He leaned toward her conspiringly. "Some towns don't want more than one, even though they often have local ownership and management—although not always." He gave her a wink and nudge as though they shared a secret. She smiled and let him keep assuming she was some big, rich, city businesswoman as he continued, "They seem to want to preserve that stagnant, small town feel." He shot her a wry grin as though he couldn't believe anyone would think such a thing.
She glanced up Main Street, with its older buildings and unique architecture. Purely Blueberry Springs.
Live local. Support local.
She turned back to look at Frankie's vacant building with the brick exterior and big windows. The old green and white striped awning was rolled up and tucked away from the elements. What would it look like with some bright and possibly garish Wrap it Up signage? Would it ruin the charm of the old brick façade? Would it look out of place and spoil the quiet look of the downtown? Or would it give the building a recognizable flash of modern day spunk?
Would the neighboring businesses react by perking up their own storefronts like they kept saying they would? Or would they claim she was an eyesore and blacklist her when they discovered she had to buy her supplies through the franchise's suppliers and couldn't support local businesses.
If he said yes, would she be an intrusion or would she spur a welcomed revitalization? She closed her eyes and shook her head. There was only one way to find out.
* * *
Hours from Blueberry Springs, sailboat masts clinke
d jauntily as rows of boats bobbed in the small marina. Waves gently lapped the shore of the parking lot and Mandy drew in a long, calming breath. With the warm May breeze feathering her skin, it was almost possible to forget her various fights with Frankie, as well as her nervousness at meeting the Wrap it Up 'family.'
She locked her truck, adjusted her yellow sundress, slung her knockoff Gucci bag over her shoulder and headed toward the bustling marina. She reminded herself all she had to do was sit there with her mouth shut, beam her newly whited smile as required, show a little leg, let out the odd, trilling laugh, and nobody would know she was actually some small town girl who'd never been on anything bigger than a rowboat.
Whatever happened today, she'd find a way to get what she came for—information and a deal. Because she hadn't passed up an opportunity to hang out with Frankie and try to smooth things over with him—again—for nothing. Although, missing his first crash-up derby—rather, pissing match—of the season was a plus and chances were, it would have led to yet another fight about his safety rather than a patch-up. And truly, the last thing she needed, with the way her heart and body kept reacting to him lately, was to watch other people ram his car with him still inside.
Nuts. That man was completely nuts. Which was another reason why they should never take the more-than-friends leap. Her mom would undoubtedly advise her to ask him to quit, but that would be asking him to change. And then, what was the point? You didn't date someone to change him. You dated him because you wanted him for the way he was. Flaws and fears and all.
She inhaled slowly, hoping her gut would stop acting like a Boy Scout was using it to attempt to earn his knotting badge and paused in front of the marina. The only way to the docks was through a big building—a big building that would surely be filled with people who would totally out her as a lost, don't-know-nothin'-about-sailing newbie. A warm hand grabbed her by the waist and she let out a squeak as she whirled, ready to deck whomever had entered her personal space. As she instinctively swung her arm for a quick elbow jab, a familiar, deep voice said, "I like women who drive big trucks." He eyed her outfit. "You never cease to surprise me, Mandy, and are never what I expect."
