Strictly Pleasure: Hooded Pleasures, Book 2

by Sheryl Nantus

  Did she call to talk about me or Roni?

  * * * * *

  Veronica let her breath out slowly as she approached the café. She’d had a restless night imagining no one coming for the store reopening and her and her staff standing around with plenty of coffee and enough freshly baked croissants and bagels to feed an army.

  It seemed the army had shown up and was hungry as all get-out.

  The line-up to get into the café was halfway around the block, the interior tables all taken, including some last-minute creations she knew had to be Dan’s work. The bright sunflower hanging out of the coffee cup beamed at her as she shuffled through the front door, raising more than one stink-eye from a patron thinking she was cutting the line.

  Jane was behind the counter, pulling coffees as fast as she could. She looked up as Veronica approached and paused to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.

  “Busy. Good. Dan’s in the back.” The barista turned back to her work and ignored Veronica. Another two employees were busy taking orders and hastily grabbing pastries from the display counter to fill the waiting trays. A waitress trotted up to snatch three black trays and swivel on her heel to head back out into the crowd.

  Organized chaos, she noted with a smile.

  I like chaos.

  She made her way behind the counter and slipped into the back office to find Dan quickly bolting together another table. The cardboard box lay against the wall with unopened partners waiting their turn.

  “I’ve already called Dana and asked her to come in early, maybe work a double shift. Katy and Grace are running their feet off but it’s not good enough.” He grunted as he twisted the bolts into place with a wrench. “And you owe for this one and two more on the floor. Went round the corner to the hardware store when it became obvious we weren’t going to have enough tables and chairs for this.”

  “We’re still legal, right?” she asked. The last thing they needed was a visit from the fire department because they were over code for the number of people allowed in the store.

  “We’re okay. Don’t worry, we’re keeping count.” He beamed at her. “It’s all good. The ovens are perfect, and we haven’t had any problems with the customers. They’re fine with waiting as long as they get their hot pastries and good coffee. Lots of talk, lots of compliments, and we’ve already had to empty the tip jar once.”

  The knot in Veronica’s belly started to loosen and untwist itself. “Excellent. Is my office still there, or did you cannibalize it for parts?”

  “Not yet.” He gave the bolt a final spin. “But I’m not making any promises.”

  “Good. I’m meeting someone, so I’ll be out front.” She patted Dan’s shoulder and moved on back to her office.

  She dropped her purse under her desk and went back outside to wait for her father.

  The line to get into the café had grown even longer in her short absence. While she stood on the corner, she overheard the praises and positive comments about her staff and about her products, the redecorating and the new tables being a common thread.

  Veronica couldn’t help but grin.

  Yes.

  She didn’t want to gloat, but in the back of her mind, she extrapolated the day’s profit.

  A few more days like this—

  Maybe we could get back on schedule with the new store.

  She allowed herself a satisfied smile.

  Take that, world.

  I’ve got you by the balls.

  “You look pleased with yourself,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

  She spun to see him standing there in his dark blue power suit, more suited for the boardroom than visiting a coffee shop. He stood there tall and commanding, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight.

  Veronica stifled her snarky comment on his clothing.

  The man never dresses down for anything.

  Probably sleeps in the damned thing.

  He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response.

  She nodded. “I am. I’m afraid we’ll have to sit in my office. There’s no empty seats available. Sorry.”

  It took all her willpower not to smirk as she led him through the crowd back inside, letting him study the waiting customers.

  Veronica popped her head into the storage space. “Dan, can you get us two coffees and two of those fresh shortbread cookies? I’ll be in my office with my father.” She put the emphasis on the last word to let him know to bring only the best.

  Dan’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. He nodded and waved the wrench as she continued on.

  Veronica scanned her office with a critical eye as she entered ahead of her father.

  Not too clean, not too dirty.

  Too clean, and he’d lecture her on not being involved enough with her business.

  Too dirty and he’d preach the virtues of having a clear workspace.

  At times, it seemed she’d never win.

  It was hard to keep from grinning.

  Here you go, Dad.

  Your daughter’s a success.

  Her father stayed silent, taking the seat in front of her desk as she pushed papers to the side to clear space for the food.

  “My apologies for the setting. As you can see, we’re rather busy today. Seems our reopening is going quite well.”

  He started to speak but fell silent as Dan appeared, carrying a small tray with the coffees and pastries. “Finished building the extra tables in time to wedge a few more customers into the corner. You take your time in here—we’re good.” He gave her father a slight tilt of the head before going back into the hall.

  Veronica gave her father a few seconds to take in Dan’s statements before speaking. “So how are you doing?” She pushed the mug of coffee toward him. “Been a long time since we had a sit down like this. I think the last time was when you visited here before.”

  “I believe so.” He took a sip and smiled. “A much better brew than before. Your barista seems to have caught on.”

  She broke off a piece of the shortbread and nibbled on it. “We’re in the black already. And this is only the brunch crowd. When the after-church people come in, it’s going to be crazy. Crazier,” she corrected herself.

  “Yes. An impressive recovery.” He adjusted his jacket. “Too bad it’s all for naught.”

  She eyed him carefully, repressing her first urge to jump across the desk and strangle him.

  Too many witnesses.

  Veronica held back her rage.

  He’s playing games again.

  Don’t walk into a trap.

  “Why would you say that?” she said in a low controlled tone.

  “SuperSmartMart wants to put a new store in this area. To be more specific, on this block.” He jabbed his index finger on her desk. “Here, to be exact. Our studies show it to be an excellent spot for expansion.”

  For a brief second, she saw her father through a crimson tunnel, her vision impaired with rage.

  No.

  Veronica forced herself to calmly take a drink before replying. “That’s impossible. We have a signed lease for eight more months. There are other businesses on this block as well, and I’m sure they all have leases too. The building owners can’t just dump us.” She ran her finger along the edge of the ceramic mug. “Not without paying a stiff penalty.”

  “They can. They will. Actually, to rephrase it—we can and will. SuperSmartMart’s buying up the entire block. We signed the papers a week ago, and now it’s a matter of evicting the tenants. All the business owners will be fairly compensated for the remainder of their leases. This site is optimum for a megastore.” Alfred snapped off a small piece of cookie and popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, watching her intently. “We plan to start construction as soon as possible.”

  Veronica’s head spun. “But we—” The options
scrambled around in her brain. “We’ve cultivated a good customer base here. We might not get them to move with us. And where are we going to move on such short notice?” Her mind flipped through the options as she said them out loud. “I’ll fight the eviction in court. There’s no notice, no reason—” She broke off her ranting and frowned, a horrible idea entering her thoughts. “Why here? Why my block?” She jabbed her finger at him. “There’s an entire bloody city out there. Why here?” she repeated.

  Alfred shrugged. “You know the way we work. Studies were done and the results presented to the board.” He rubbed his hands together. “It’s a sound investment. With the bookstore around the corner and the emergence of the area as a growing family destination, a store here is good business.”

  No.

  He wouldn’t.

  Her stomach rebelled, threatening to toss back the coffee and shortbread. “You’re on the board of directors,” she started, “so you knew this would impact my business. And not in a good way.”

  Alfred stared at her with a blank expression.

  Veronica continued, channeling her nausea into her rant. “This didn’t just happen. This sort of decision takes weeks, months. During which you watched me put this café together and put all I had into it emotionally and financially.” She narrowed her eyes, seeking any sign of remorse. “You could have called me and told me what was happening so I could have prepared for it, sought out a different location and prepared to move. Or better yet, cancelled the entire damned deal.”

  It took a concentrated effort, but Veronica kept her voice low. There was no use letting everyone else know their little world had imploded. “You could have helped me out. You should have let me know.”

  His expression remained unchanged. “Despite what you might think, I don’t control the board of directors. The studies were conducted without my knowledge, and it was only when it came to my desk for approval I realized it was where you happened to be. It’s unfortunate you and other small businesses are in the way, but it’s the way the game goes. The larger companies push the smaller ones out of the way—I believe you covered this in university, yes?” He tugged at each dark blue sleeve. “As for informing you ahead of time…” He took another sip of coffee to delay his answer a fraction longer and to annoy her more. “I was under no legal obligation to do so. And if I had, it might have led to accusations of favoritism from my colleagues. It wouldn’t be fair to the other shops on the block now—would it?”

  Veronica was shocked into silence.

  You—

  She felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart.

  “However…” He smiled, reminding her of a hungry lion. “I anticipated your reaction and have arranged for you to have a position in the new store. Lower management, but I’m sure you can make it work.”

  For a brief second, Veronica wondered if her new oven could be used to dispose of a human body.

  No.

  Too long a cooking time.

  And I’ll never get the smell out.

  “This café is something I’ve been working toward for years.” She gritted her teeth. “I turned down a job with SuperSmartMart when I graduated. What makes you think I’d take a job now?”

  He shrugged, his eyes half-closed. “It’s your decision. Your success here, of course, will be taken into consideration when it comes to promotion in your new company.” Alfred waved one hand in the air. “You’ve done exceptionally well building this business up from scratch. But you have to understand what you do reflects on me, reflects on the family name. And right now that name is connected with SuperSmartMart, not some rinky-dink coffee shop that’ll choke out at two stores because you can’t compete with the larger corporate entities. You know I’m speaking the truth.” He locked eyes with her. “You might grow to three, maybe five stores before you hit the wall. Your cute little pastries, your specialty coffees, your excellent service might buy you a bit of space, but you’re nothing alongside the big players. Eventually you’ll be bought out, and all I’ve done is speed up the timetable. Wake up, Veronica. It’s time to grow up.”

  Veronica saw red. She waved at the door, fighting to keep her voice below a yell. “Do you see those people out there? They’re not here because they’re desperate for coffee or to get out of the rain. They’re coming here because they enjoy the atmosphere and the service, the food and the drinks.”

  Alfred stayed seated, his hands neatly folded in his lap. “You seriously think your Java Jive is going to survive and thrive with the big boys?” He scoffed. “You won’t ever be able to dig out enough of the market share to do much more than collect the trash.” He shook his head. “This is for the best. You come into the company and forget this silliness. It’s time you settled down with a secure job, a secure future.”

  “I—” She couldn’t find the words, her rage and frustration sucking her down a black hole. “Get. Out.”

  Alfred rose. “Thanks for the coffee. The barista will have no problem getting another job.” He looked at her. “It’s what your mother would have wanted. The two of us working together. I know you’re upset, and that’s understandable, but I hope you’ll come around.” He walked to the door and stopped to look back at her. “Of course, you don’t have to take the job, but you’ll be unemployed and out the cost you’ve invested in this business, putting you deep in red ink. Even with the payout from breaking your lease, you might never recover financially. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that. Call me when you’re ready to discuss your new position in SuperSmartMart.”

  He strode out as she stood there, shaking with anger.

  He can’t—

  He just did.

  Veronica grabbed the nearby wastebasket and vomited up the little coffee and cookie she’d eaten.

  She wiped her mouth with a tissue from her desk, mentally running through the discussion.

  No way out.

  Her father might be an asshole but he was a competent asshole. She’d seen this sort of thing happen before in other areas of the city and they’d discussed examples like this in university. It wasn’t as uncommon a scenario as she’d like to think.

  She tossed the tissue in the garbage and fell back into her chair.

  It’s over.

  Appeals could be filed but it’d take money and time. And by the time the final decision came down for SuperSmartMart—and she had no doubt they’d win in the end—she’d be even more in the hole financially.

  Dan. Jane. The rest of the staff; the waitresses and extra help they’d pulled in today.

  All of them pink-slipped.

  There was no room in a SuperSmartMart for them.

  She did fast math—the payout for breaking the lease might be enough to move Java Jive to another location. But it’d take more time and money, and, as she said, the customers might not follow and—

  The nausea returned, but there was nothing for it to do other than churn her stomach up.

  Veronica walked out of her office.

  She couldn’t stay there in the middle of her biggest triumph when it was turning into the mother of all garbage piles.

  The café was filled to capacity.

  Dan smiled, and Jane looked up from her coffee machine and gave a jaunty wave as Veronica strolled out of the store and past the waiting customers, forcing herself to maintain a smile and a steady pace.

  All she wanted to do was run.

  As soon as she got out of sight of the lineup that was what she did.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Oliver stood in the romance section picking out books to highlight on the nearby table. He knew the manager was watching him and probably annoyed at his interference but he’d cut his chops in this store and liked the simple yet complicated job of helping customers find new gems.

  “This.” He held up the latest Tessa Dare. “This is well worth the read. You can’t go wrong with this au
thor.”

  There was no one around him to argue or agree. It was a slow time on a Sunday, the lull before the storm when the children would come in from church or from lunch with their parents and want a new book while the adults scanned the new arrivals.

  Oliver liked coming in at this time to wander the aisles and just be one with the books. It was a hard concept to explain to anyone who didn’t love books, but he enjoyed going through the shelves and seeing what caught his eye.

  The fact that he owned all the books, technically, didn’t stop him from strolling up to the counter with usually a half-dozen books to purchase.

  He loaded up his arms with his current selection, pleased with himself. Some science fiction romance, some erotic romance and a sprinkling of space opera.

  Trying new authors is always a fun experience, he thought.

  Might stumble over a gem.

  He headed for the near-empty table and began laying them out, eyeing each cover for the best placement. Being right near the front door was the best place to capture new customers as they walked in.

  A quick movement out of the corner of his eye froze him in place.

  What the—

  Roni.

  He dropped the stack of books on the table and sprinted toward the door.

  She was a good half-block ahead of him, ducking and weaving through the crowd with catlike moves.

  “Roni,” Oliver yelled.

  She didn’t slow, didn’t turn.

  He ran after her, forcing his way through the pedestrians like a runaway train.

  “Roni.” The word blew away in the wind battering his face, the stiff breeze slicing between the buildings to slap him back.

  He caught up with her a block later and only because she was winded and bent over, spitting on the ground with exhaustion.

  Oliver wasn’t far behind. His ribs ached and he struggled to breathe.

  “Roni.” The single word brought her up to stare at him, and he saw the fear and the pain in her stare.

  What happened to you?

  The rage overlaid the concern.