Desperate Measures

by Elle Casey

  Kiki shook her head. “We need to get this planning done and fast. These cookies are going to be a hit.” She popped the rest of it in her mouth. “So … back to business. Equipment costs?”

  “Why don’t you let me work on that while you work on the location and maybe sketch out some design ideas?”

  A big grin split Kiki’s face. The idea of designing Desperate Measures from the ground up was incredibly energizing. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” She whipped out her cell phone and scrolled through some names until she found the one she wanted. She pressed the green button and waited for an answer.

  “Yo, you got Rich,” came the voice on the other end. Rich was one of the DeLuccas’ friends, also suffering under the delusion that he should aspire to be and sound like one of the characters in The Sopranos.

  “Hey, Rich. I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Don’t tell me, let me guess. Ya feelin’ sick and ya need Doctor Rich’s hot beef injection to make ya feel bettah.”

  Kiki rolled her eyes. “Do you get many girls with that line, Rich?”

  “No. Nevah.”

  “There may be a reason for that. You might want to think about coming up with something a little less obvious.”

  “Yeah, sure. So, no Doctor Rich then?”

  “I just vomited a little in my mouth. Would you stop, please?”

  “Oh, dat hurts. Kiki, ya break my heart into very small pieces when ya do dat. All da time ya do it, too. Nevah evah do ya say yes to me. How many times have I tried to take ya out? T’ree? Four?”

  “Try thirty five. Listen, Rich. Focus. I need your help, seriously. I want you to find me a piece of real estate.”

  “Oh. Well why didn’t ya say so? Whaddya need? I’m ya guy. You’ll nevah get stuck …”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘You’ll never get stuck in a ditch, with Rich.’ Classy tagline, Rich. I have it memorized … it’s so hard to forget. Anyway, it’s for me and a couple friends. We’re starting a new business. A cafe bakery kind of place. We need something commercial, and it’s better if it’s already got a hood thingy,” she paused to look at Aimee who nodded her head in agreement, “and near downtown and a higher end shopping area. Not too big, but large enough for about ten tables or so.”

  “Oh, so ya ain’t openin’ another Lola’s.” He sounded disappointed.

  “No. I’m out of that business, Rich. For good.”

  “Dat’s what they all say. But honestly, Kiki, you bein’ gone makes Lola’s no fun anymore. I only went because-a you.”

  “So you’re not going anymore?” she asked slyly, knowing full well that Rich was a lifer at Lola’s. As long as there was one girl there - and all she needed to have for qualifications was a pulse - he was going to be throwing his dollars on the stage.

  “Well, I wouldn’t go dat far. But I will say in all honesty, may God be my witness, dat I don’t like it as much. The other girls just don’t have da same pizzaz dat you got. Maybe ya could just come back for special appearances and shit like dat.”

  Kiki was getting annoyed. She’d only ever been able to take Rich in small doses at the best of times. He was a regular at Lola’s and tipped well, but he had to. Otherwise, the girls would have completely ignored him. His two good qualities were that he was tenacious and he knew everybody who owned property in the city. He had found real estate for the DeLuccas for years, and Kiki had always heard how he was able to help negotiate better terms from landlords than any other realtor they’d ever worked with. Knowing Rich, he probably grossed the person out so much, they agreed to his terms just to get rid of him.

  “Oh, Rich, sorry - I’ve gotta go. Duty calls. Talk to you soon?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m on dis. I already have something in mind for ya … I just have to call and find out da status on it. I’ll call ya back in a few hours. Dat good enough for ya? Fast enough?”

  “Yes, that’s perfect.”

  “Listen, Kiki …”

  “Yeah?”

  “Now dat you’re, uh, outta da business and all … maybe you’d like to go to dinner or somethin’ …”

  “Oh, shoot, Rich, I have to go. I’ll think about it. Talk to you later!” She hung up the call before waiting for his response. She shivered, grossing out over the visual of Rich on a date. With her.

  Aimee raised an eyebrow. “What was that all about? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  “Ugh. Rich. He’s so cheesy, I can hardly stand talking to him sometimes. He’s almost as bad as a caricature of a used car salesman. Polyester suit and everything. I just pictured him semi-naked.”

  “Oh, God, why would you do that? And why are we using him if he’s so awful?”

  “Because he can find the perfect place. He goes in the category of ‘necessary evil’. The DeLuccas used him for Lola’s and about five other places they own. He’s like an idiot savant when it comes to commercial real estate. He’s a social misfit, but apparently the ability to act like a normal person isn’t in the job description around here.”

  Aimee shrugged. “If you trust him, I trust him.” She went back to working on the menu. “I’m almost done with the ingredients list.” She was typing away on her laptop. “I’m going to send it over to Elizabeth with the menu and equipment stuff. Anything you want me to add from you?”

  “No. Just tell her I said hi. I’m going to go online and research design ideas.”

  Kiki spent the next hour researching color palettes, furniture, and artwork. Ideas sparked other ideas and plans took shape in her mind. She could already picture it - warm, cozy, and vibrant all at the same time. Three independent women, dedicated to creating new lives for themselves, and willing to take desperate measures to make it happen.

  Chapter 21

  ELIZABETH INCORPORATED THE INFORMATION SENT over from Aimee into the pro forma financials she’d been working on for the past few hours. Things were looking really good. Now all she needed to know was the rental amount of the location and she’d be done with this first draft. She was distracted from formatting the reports she was going to print by a text on her phone.

  GOT TIME FOR A COFFEE?

  It was her cousin, Marcus. “Awesome,” she said out into the empty apartment.

  YES. COME ON OVER. She pushed ‘send’ on her phone, and before she could put it back down on the table, her doorbell rang.

  She opened the door to find Marcus standing on her front step with his phone in his hand and a big smile on his face.

  “Hello, gorgeous!” he said brightly, walking up to give her a little hug. It was more the type of hug you’d get from a girlfriend than a male cousin, but she was used to it.

  “Hello, Marcus. Don’t you look dapper today.” He was wearing a tweed jacket with a burgundy bow tie, his hair slicked down neatly, instead of flying all over for a change. “You look good in tweed.”

  “I do, don’t I? This is my new style. I’m going for the academic look. What do you think?”

  “Well … you’re a lawyer … so I’m not sure why you’d want to go for the academic look but … ”

  “Because, sweet pea, I’ve accepted a position at UCF as an adjunct professor, and I need to fit the part.”

  “Marcus, that’s great! When did you decide to do that?” Marcus had been a divorce lawyer for many years and did some business law work for a few select clients as well. He’d been good enough to answer her questions over the course of her accounting career about things concerning her clients, and she’d returned the favor by doing his taxes.

  “I’ve always wanted to do this.” He didn’t meet her eyes when he answered, instead taking a little too much interest in a nearby potted plant.

  Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously, closing the door behind him. “That’s funny. I don’t recall hearing you mention it before.” She and Marcus were pretty close. And he had a tendency to go off on different life tangents for the express purpose of chasing tail. Male tail, that is.

  “Fine. You’ve sussed me out. There
was this totally gorgeous hunk of a professor who made a visit over to the office, and it just got me thinking …”

  “Thinking what?” she laughed. “That you’d put on a jacket with elbow patches, get a job over there, and land yourself a hot date for Friday night?”

  “No. But is there anything wrong with that? I mean, seriously. What do you expect me to do? Internet date? Go on Rent-a-nob dot com? I don’t think so.” He brushed some imaginary lint off of his lapel.

  Elizabeth rubbed his upper arm, soothing his ruffled feathers and trying really hard not to laugh. “No. No one expects that of you. Dating sucks. Rent-a-… what did you call it … ?”

  “Nob. Rent-a-nob dot com.”

  “Yeah, that. Don’t go there. Internet dating sucks. I hear ya.”

  “Try doing it as a gay divorce lawyer.”

  “And you think your prospects as a gay professor will be better?”

  “Sweetie, they couldn’t get any worse.”

  Elizabeth shrugged. To each his own. “Come into the kitchen and sit with me. I have your favorite coffee, and I need your help.”

  “I live to serve,” he sighed as he followed her in. “So what’s new in your incredibly exciting life as an accountant?” He obviously was expecting to hear the same old answer, which was usually ‘not much’.

  Elizabeth smiled as she put down a cup of coffee in front of him, waiting until he took a sip to respond with, “I told my boss to take his job and shove it, and partnered up with an exotic dancer and a divorcée to open up a cafe bakery called Desperate Measures … but other than that, not much.”

  Marcus choked on his coffee, leaning forward as he desperately tried to keep from staining his Brooks Brothers jacket and fine cotton shirt.

  Elizabeth handed him a napkin.

  Once he had gotten himself together, Marcus glared at her. “You did that on purpose. You knew I was going to cough up a lung, and yet you said it anyway. You don’t like the jacket, do you? Or is it the tie?” He craned his neck trying to see it for himself.

  Elizabeth smiled. “No, I actually do like your jacket and your tie. I think the whole professor thing suits you. If I were a gay man, I’d be all over you right now.”

  Marcus dropped his glare, partially mollified. “Thank you. You have excellent taste, as usual. So, tell me. Are you having a mid-life crisis? What exactly is motivating you to drop a nuclear bomb on your oh-so-carefully-crafted life?”

  “I’m not old enough to have a mid-life crisis.”

  “Lack of sex can age a woman. It’s a proven fact.”

  She slapped the back of his hand. “I have sex. Sometimes.”

  “Having carnal relations with your vibrator doesn’t count, love bug.”

  Elizabeth gave him the stink eye. But deep down she was wondering if there wasn’t a grain of truth to what he was saying. She felt older than she should, and budding romance always made her feel young again. Maybe after this business was up and running she could try Internet dating again. Ugh. Even the thought of it made her want to go do another spreadsheet. She was better off with numbers than another failed attempt at connecting with someone who valued nothing other than tits and ass.

  “Whatever, Casanova. Just drink your coffee.” She got up and grabbed a plate off the counter, bringing it over and setting it down in front of him on the table. “Try one of these.”

  Marcus reached over and took one of Aimee’s cookies, biting into it just before lifting his cup of coffee to take another sip. His hand froze when the cup was nearly to his lips. He cocked his head to the right, chewing now more slowly, a frown creasing his forehead. “Hmmm …”

  “What?” Elizabeth asked innocently. Marcus looked like he’d just thought of something, but couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.

  “This … mmmmm … my goodness. What is this heavenly confection you’ve tempted me with, young lady?” He slowly reached his arm out, the half-cookie still in his hand, wrapping it around the edge of the plate to drag it closer to him. “Mine.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “My new business partner baked those.”

  “I want in. Where do I sign? How much do you want?”

  Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh, feeling instantly validated in her decision to go into business with Aimee and Kiki. “We’re not taking on any partners.”

  Marcus pouted, pulling the cookies in tighter.

  “But, you can have all the cookies you want, in exchange for legal advice.”

  “Done. Just so you’re aware, I can eat my weight in cookies in a very short period of time before starting the process all over again.”

  “That’s not a problem. I’m working the financials. I’ll put an extra line-item in for your cookie budget.”

  “That’s my girl. Now what kind of legal advice do you need?”

  “Two kinds, actually. One, to help us set up the business and issues with the partnership.”

  Marcus waggled a finger at her as he chewed another cookie and took a quick sip of coffee. “No. Not partners. Members. You will have an LLC. It will be better for you to manage; and for tax purposes, as you know, it will be cleaner.”

  “Fine. So we need that. And one of the partners, Aimee, she’s in the middle of a hairy divorce. She needs help. Badly.”

  “Who’s her attorney?”

  “She doesn’t have one as far as I know. Her ex is a lawyer, and I’m pretty sure he’s taking advantage of her.”

  “Who is it? Do I know him?”

  “Jack. Jack … Parsons.”

  Marcus choked for a second time that visit. “Jack?! Gah … Jack Parsons? Excuse me … sorry … did you say, ‘Jack Parsons’?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “Whatever your friend needs, I’m here. I’d like nothing better than to see Jack Parsons’ ex wife take him down, down, down. Like all the way down.”

  “Why the hatred, Marcus?” Elizabeth was smiling, realizing that this was somehow personal to her cousin. And he might be flighty when it came to finding boyfriends and trying new fashions, but he was one hell of a divorce lawyer. All the high-profile cases came his way because he always ended up getting his clients what they wanted. He was like a dog with a bone. Eventually he just wore the competition down; and he was very good at finding dirt.

  “Homophobe. Big time. Looks down his nose. Poop doesn’t stink. Zero ethics. I’ve heard things …”

  Elizabeth leaned in and dropped her voice. “Like what kind of things?”

  Marcus leaned in and whispered, “Very bad things.” And then he winked at her and sat up. “I’m not a gossip. Leave this to me. I’ll take care of it. Have her call the office and set up an appointment to come see me Monday morning, first thing. Tell her to tell Lana I said to fit her in immediately.”

  “I’ll make the appointment for her.”

  “Oh, she’s one of those?” he frowned.

  “No. She’s capable. But she’s a nice person, and this Jack guy has really intimidated her. He sent her to the emergency room not that long ago.”

  Marcus sneered. “Dirtbag. It will be my pleasure to take half of his paycheck. Or more if I can manage it.” He stood. “And now, my dear, I must depart. I have things to do, people to see. All manner of important goings on in my life right now.”

  “You’re going to watch Glee on your DVR aren’t you?”

  “Like I said … important things.” He leaned in to kiss her cheeks. “Kiss, kiss. Loves ya.”

  Elizabeth followed him to the front door.

  “Will you be joining the little missus Monday?” he asked.

  “Maybe. Should I?”

  “Are you her financial advisor?”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said without hesitation.

  “Then I will see you there. Toodles!” He stepped down to the sidewalk and sauntered over to his convertible M.G. He never walked fast anywhere.

  “Bye, Marky Mark!” she yelled.

  He waved his hand out of the convertible top, driving away with a muffled
putt-putt-putting.

  Elizabeth went back into the apartment to send Aimee and Kiki an email informing them of their Monday morning meeting at their new attorney’s office. She decided to spring the news about the divorce part of his services later.

  Chapter 22

  AIMEE RUNG HER HANDS NERVOUSLY in her lap. She hated attorneys. All attorneys … Elizabeth’s assurances that her gay cousin wasn’t like the rest of them notwithstanding.

  Kiki reached over and squeezed her hands. “Just relax. You’re going to be fine.”

  “I’m so glad you’re both here with me. How much of a wimp could I possibly be, right?” Aimee looked at first one and then the other of her friends, feeling ashamed of her weakness.

  “You’re not a wimp just because you need support during a tough time. Besides, we’re not just here for that. We’re here about Desperate Measures too, don’t forget.”

  “That’s the only reason I agreed to come,” mumbled Aimee. She was so nervous about Jack’s reaction to her getting a lawyer, it made her stomach hurt. She kept telling herself it was a necessary evil, but all she could think about was how much easier it would be to just let him have his way. She didn’t mind starting over with nothing so she could leave all of the Jack part of her life in the past.

  The door to the inner office flew open.

  “Ladies!” said a bright and cheery voice from the doorway. “Step into my inner sanctum!”

  Aimee looked up into the bluest of blue eyes she’d ever seen. Elizabeth’s cousin had wavy blond hair, the kind that reminded her of that guy on The Mentalist. Thick, sun-streaked, and playboyish, was the only way she could think to describe it. She stood in place, staring. His good looks, matched with his prim and proper clothing, complete with small polkadot bow tie, made him a sight to behold.

  “Wow,” she said, before she thought to stop herself.

  He smiled hugely. “I’m going to take that as a good wow.” He held out his hand. “You must be Aimee … ”

  She smiled back, automatically responding to his good nature. She took his outstretched hand gently and shook it. “Yes. I’m Aimee. I guess that makes you Marcus.”