by Jean Oram
She gripped the front of her shirt and pulled it in and out a few times, creating a breeze against her skin. She glanced through the window to see Sasha, the weekend help, texting her boyfriend and chewing on the end of her ponytail instead of shuttling dirty dishes to the kitchen, as Mandy had requested before taking her break.
If she managed to find the last bit of cash to open a Wrap it Up, she was going to have to deal with employees like Sasha all the time. And because Sasha's dad, Ed, was the editor of the local paper, she'd end up hiring the likes of her despite her instincts. Not hiring the paper's daughter wasn't a help-you-up kind of move and only a fool would fail to notice how often Benny's place had been mentioned in the papers lately.
Leaning against the building, she wished she hadn't given up smoking in high school. But again, her stupid nosy-head stepmother had forced her to quit before she'd even managed to get addicted. That woman had a nose like a bloodhound. And in the way it caught scents, too. But a cigarette would remind her to exhale right about now so her brain could gather some fresh oxygen to help it think. Think, think, think.
John had tweaked the franchise contract to his exacting specifications and now all she had to do was sign. The only hiccup was the tiny little fact that John had noticed her bank's draw schedule for her loan was going to leave her short for her first payments to the franchise—even with the franchise loan. Basically, the bank wanted her to have more assets built up so they could advance more cash to her...but without the cash, she couldn't build up the assets. The only answer was to get someone to cosign her loan so the bank could increase her draw payments and pull her ass out of the fire.
The problem was who. There was no way her mom, who lived check to check, had the financial muscle to help her. And she'd rather live the rest of her life as a waitress than accept her father's offer of help because saying yes would mean she'd be granting her stepmother the opportunity to stand over her shoulder nitpicking and snoopervising every little thing. Mandy wouldn't even be able to buy a pack of gum without her stepmother hinting she could have used that money to pay them back. Beside every person on her list was a red light saying no.
"Heard you had quite the crowd this morning," Mary Alice said as she and Liz ambled by. A whiff of Mary Alice's familiar stale smoke smell hit Mandy, making her craving that much worse. She wanted to lick the woman's skin just to get the smoky flavor in her mouth.
"I love tourists," Mandy replied automatically, leaning away from Mary Alice. She stopped using her hand to fan her shirt and shoved both hands in her pockets. "Hey, uh, can I bum a smoke?"
Mary Alice gave her a long look, eyes narrowed. "Since when did you start smoking again?"
Mandy shrugged. "Do you have one?"
"At the store," Mary Alice said slowly. "But you don't wanna start up again. You'll never quit and you'll end up hauling an oxygen tank like ol' Sal. You'll have the likes of Lauretta hauling you outside for fresh air in a wheelchair. Besides, you need all the cash you got, dontcha?"
"That's right," added Liz. "And you'll smell like a chimney and taste like an ashtray like wrinkly old Mary Alice here."
Mary Alice shot her a disgusted look. "Like you've ever tried kissing me. No, thank you very much," she muttered. She dug around in her cleavage, her eyes never leaving her sister until she found what she was looking for. She defiantly popped a mint in her mouth and raised her chin. Still looking at her sister as if she was expecting some sort of sneak attack if she looked away, she swung the mints in Mandy's direction.
"Uh, no, thanks," she said quickly. Mints warmed by someone's cleavage probably weren't as bad as gum warmed in someone's pocket, but she didn't exactly want to test the theory. She came out here to freshen up, not get grosser.
"You're going to wear out your bra carrying around junk like that," Liz warned, watching Mary Alice pull out a cell phone and change purse before tucking her tin of mints back into her cleavage. "They aren't made for stuff like that." She added in Mandy's direction, "That bra is like a magician's hat. You never know what she's going to pull out of it."
Mary Alice gave her sister a sassy look and jiggled up and down, making her cleavage rattle with the sound of change, tinned mints, and some other unidentifiable things. "What's handier than a big ol' Double D cup? Frees up the hands." She shot Mandy a wink.
"Well, thanks, ladies," Mandy said with a sigh. "Guess I'll take up drinking instead."
Mary Alice gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Personally, I find sex to be a much healthier, stress-reducing alternative and opportunities pop up in the wink of an eye." Her gaze moved to the street, settling a few parked cars beyond Mandy. She gave Mandy a nudge and indicated the girl should adjust her cleavage. By the time Mandy looked up again, Mary Alice was hustling down the street with her giggling sister.
"You coming or what?" Frankie called. He had one leg in the Charger. The other supported him on the pavement as he leaned against the roof of the car, watching Mandy.
"Sorry?" Mandy blinked at Frankie.
"I've got to return the Charger. It's done. I called in some favors."
"And?" She shrugged, the cool air feeling amazing as it hit her overheated pits. Stupid polyester. She was hot and cold all at the same time.
"You promised you'd drive in. I need a ride back?" He tilted his head in question.
Mandy shook her head and shrugged again.
"We're supposed to pick up the beer fridge and a couple other prizes for the cruise night." He looked over her uniform. "You promised."
Mandy glanced down at her attire. "Shooooot." It was coming back to her now.
"You never changed your shift, did you?" Frankie asked, disappointment etched in his expression.
"I'm sorry. I forgot," she said, coming over. "When you hurt your shoulder, I figured you wouldn't need a ride and I got all wrapped up in the Wrap it Up stuff. Get it? All wrapped up?" She raised her eyebrows but Frankie didn't smile. "The good news, I guess, is that I'll be returning to real life again." She swung an arm through the air in a languid movement. "Woohoo." She flashed him a cheery smile that was as fake as Wrap it Up's claim about having homemade buns.
Frankie's forehead creased and he stepped away from the car. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't have the cash. I'm short." She stepped back, surprised at how suddenly she'd decided she needed to pull out of the deal.
"I thought Wini set you up with a loan?"
"I have no real borrowing record, not enough assets, nor enough income. The ratio was off by a couple of zeros. Or percentage points or something." She waved a hand. "Unless a fairy godmother falls out of the sky, the truth is—" she sucked in a deep breath "—I'm not going to be able to make Point A and Point B meet in the middle. My period of exclusivity is over and in a week I'll lose my deposit unless I sign. But why would I do that? I don't have enough money." She rubbed her face, wondering how she'd managed to get so far into this process before reality decided to show her pretty face.
"I'll cosign a loan." Frankie turned to the car. "We'll go talk to Wini first thing Monday."
"Frankie." She grabbed his arm. "You know I can't do that. I can't..." Her shoulders ended up somewhere near her ears. "If I'm having trouble seeing that I'm unable to make ends meet until it's time to pay up now, what's going to happen later?"
"I believe in you." He shrugged as if it was no big deal. "You'll figure it all out. And I thought about what you said." He paused and kicked at the road before looking up to meet her eye. "If you say the guy is okay, then I'm in. I'll help any way I can. I know you don't want to get me involved, but all it'll be is my name on a piece of paper."
"I can't ruin our friendship by letting money come between us, Frankie. It was all just a stupid idea. Like a midlife crisis."
"Then don't let it come between us." Frankie grabbed her hands and she stiffened as the few local pedestrians slowed to watch. "You want this. How can I, your best friend—" he paused to meet her eye again "—sit by when I h
ave the means to make your dreams come true? That wouldn't be being a good friend. The truth is, this is something you've wanted deep in your bones for a long time. It's time to put yourself forward, grab your future and shape it around your dreams."
She jutted out her hip. "But what about you? You aren't following your dreams."
"That's different."
"No, it isn't."
"They've already found someone else," he said tautly.
"Oh, Frankie. I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. He returned the hug, his body fitting nicely against hers.
She drew away before she got stuck, unable to let go. "This will be better, staying here at Benny's." She nodded. "I'll be able to live a real life and not be stuck running a business twenty-four, seven." She gave another nod. Yes. That was it. Think positively. "Less stress. The last few weeks have been insane and I wasn't even running a business!"
Frankie tilted his head back and scratched his neck like a cat getting a chin rub. His expression grew distant, as though he was working up a plan. "You need collateral. Someone to secure the loan for you."
"My truck isn't enough," she warned. "And I said—"
"I have an idea." Frankie's eyes lit up and he took off down the street at a trot. "Don't worry about the Charger. I'll get it delivered later," he called.
Mandy followed him a few steps, then hesitated before returning to the restaurant.
She wasn't sure what he was up to, but the little spark within her that she'd been too afraid to extinguish flared again. Maybe—just maybe—her best friend would come up with something she hadn't.
* * *
Mandy looked over the papers stapled together. She met Frankie's eye, her heart colliding with her gut. He was grinning as though he'd just unveiled the Taj Mahal and said it was for her.
He obviously didn't see these papers the way she did.
If she signed this document, there would be money between friends. Something she'd told him she wasn't going to do. But on the flip side, if she didn't sign them, Frankie was going to take this rejection hard. Harder than any past rejections.
"You didn't see it coming, did you?" he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "But it makes perfect sense. You're going to use the building, anyway, so why not use it as collateral? Then you can get a bigger loan." He dusted his hands and smiled. Problem solved. "You're still doing it on your own, too."
She choked back the urge to yell. He was acting just like her father. Sweep in and fix the mess with no regard to what she wanted.
She stomped across the dusty floor of his building. "Have you inhaled too many paint fumes? If I fail, you'll lose your inheritance." Hysteria built within her. "I said I didn't want to put you at financial risk! I'm overextended and I don't want a business partner! Why is it all or nothing with you these days? Didn't getting hurt in derby teach you anything? Some risks just aren't worth taking."
How could he talk to Wini and John behind her back and set things up so she had no other recourse than to say yes to the stupid carrot dangling in front of her stinkin' nose? Why hadn't anyone come and talked to her? Where was the damned rumor mill when she needed it?
"It doesn't make us partners," Frankie said evenly, not looking the least bit chagrined. "And I learned plenty wrecking my shoulder."
"Dammit, Frankie."
"One of us should move forward and pursue a dreams."
She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose, trying to calm herself. Did he really have to add a dollop of guilt to top off this sundae of friendship doom?
"Not going on the show was your choice," she said, her voice hard. She waved the paper at him. "You realize this could ruin our friendship?"
He shrugged as if to say, Easy come, easy go. His hands were tucked casually in the pockets of his perfectly worn jeans that hugged his tush in all the right ways. God, why was she thinking about his ass? She was supposed to be figuring out how to get him to butt out.
No. This was perfect. Perfect! If they were hard and fast business partners, she'd stop thinking about him as a piece of meat. She wouldn't be able to think about his ass if his money was on the line. And she most certainly wouldn't have the time.
"You never know," he said, running a hand down her arm, wincing as he moved his sore shoulder. "This could make us even better friends." He held her gaze, his eyes flecked with a kindness that was inviting in all the ways she wanted. And in all the ways she needed to refuse in order to preserve what they currently had between them.
She turned away, but he slung a warm arm over her shoulder, drawing her close to protect her against the unheated building's chill. He held her tight to his side, his gentle strength drawing her in, protecting her.
Tears pricked her eyelids. She'd do anything to keep them like this. Safe. Friends.
But if their friendship was so easy come, easy go for him...
Damn. There was no real choice.
With tears pricking at her eyes, she flipped to the last page in the document and, holding it against her leg, scrawled her name along the bottom line.
She stared at it for a second, a sadness overlying any small thrills that tried to ripple through her. Business partners.
She wanted everything, but not this.
She drew herself up to her full height and jutted out her chin. She hoped to send the message with her peeved shrug that her agreeing to become partners was anything but fine and he'd better darn well tread carefully until her name was off that document. She slapped his chest with the papers and he slowly accepted them.
"If you don't care about our friendship and don't feel it's worth protecting, then fine. I don't care, either." She balled her hands at her sides. "It was nice being friends with you and, for my own sake, I hope I enjoy being a restaurant owner even more." She worked to keep her emotions under control and particularly, the tears that were battling for release.
"It won't wreck out friendship," grumbled Frankie with an eye roll. He stepped back, his cheeks flushed. "And it won't kill you to accept help from a friend."
"Money between friends never turns out well." She pointed a finger at him.
"It worked out fine between Alex and Annie. And they were friends."
"Your boss was practically engaged when she stepped in to help him start the place!" Mandy exploded. "So, of course it worked out."
He stepped closer, challenging her. "And?"
"And what?" she snapped.
Frankie focused on her eyes, taking her in. He moved closer, his anger fizzing, his scent comforting her, despite the fight within. He threw the stapled papers across the room and they fluttered and crashed down like a wounded bird. "You need to learn to let friends help. You need to let people in and not be so god-awful bloody independent all the time."
"I'm only trying to protect our friendship," she said, hugging herself as she backed against a dusty wall.
"Oh, yeah?" He drew closer, taking up the space between them, his nose just about brushing hers as he asked, "And when was the last time you let a friend help you, Miss Independent?"
She turned her head, her cheeks burning with anger. "I just signed the damned papers and proved I can accept help. I don't have to answer to you!"
Frankie suddenly gripped her arms and jammed his lips down over hers, kissing her long and deep, as though he was drawing her soul from her body. His lips softened as they explored the fullness of her mouth and her body weakened at his intensity. She sagged against his firm body, her own body reacting and tingling in all the right places. In her shock, her brain shut out her determination to not kiss him back. Her tongue dipped into his mouth and he leaned into her. Her head bumped the wall as he consumed her, weakened her and stole any lingering resolve.
He suddenly released her, breathing hard, his eyes burning as he said, "Yes. You do have to answer me."
He stepped away, leaving her propped against the wall on weak legs.
Holy hell, Batman. When did Frankie get so bloody fucking hot
and steamy and alpha male? And why now? Now that she was in a business agreement with him and the last thing she should be doing is imagining lying him out on the dusty floor and prying his faded blue jeans from his taut body?
"You and me?" Frankie pointed at the space between them. "We're only just beginning."
Chapter 11
Hell on rollerskates. It was all coming together. She shot Frankie a grin and clicked on her new website. It was her. Her! On the Internet! As a proud owner of an upcoming Wrap it Up.
Dammit all, but thanks to Frankie, it was actually happening. In a matter of weeks, she'd be well on her way to being in business on her own. And true to his word, he was butting out. Just being an amazing, supportive friend helping her out as needed. He didn't even blink an eye when she'd outlined the modifications that had to be made to his building. And according to Seth, she would be opening her doors well before the end of September—possibly even by the end of August if the back-ordered kitchen equipment came in soon. She had her heart set on everything opening by that time—and not just so she'd start making money a month earlier, but so she could begin wooing that precious foot traffic into her restaurant, creating habits before the weather got too cold and people only went out when they had to.
She nudged her business partner and grinned at the photo Liz had taken of her shaking hands with Seth in front of Frankie's building. "That makes it feel official, huh?"
He nodded, his eyes filled with pride. She grinned back, resisting the urge to plant a happy kiss on his lips. There was something about him being her business partner and sharing this dream that made him undeniably sexy. Sometimes she even caught herself thinking about how well this partnership was working and that maybe they could take it one step further. Which was silly. And so, so wrong of her.
