Fernando Rodriguez leased farmland that grew a variety of organic produce, and he’d brought a truckload of his workers over for a late lunch. Although Skylar had closed for the day by the time they’d driven up, she hadn’t been able to turn him away.
She began counting out the cash registers while her remaining three employees cleared the counters.
“Greg, don’t you need to go?” she asked the fry cook, who also managed the Nibble Nook every Saturday for her. Greg was a single father with chronic child-care issues and couldn’t stay late as a rule, while his coworkers loved overtime.
“I’m okay for once. My sister doesn’t work this afternoon, so she can watch the twins a while longer.”
Skylar nodded, grateful she wouldn’t have to empty the oil from the fryers herself. Delays always seemed to happen on the days she had something to do in the evening—not that she had a social life aside from Karin’s school, church or city events.
Karin and Melanie arrived as she finished tallying the day’s receipts. They sat at a table near the farmworkers, and Skylar hoped that Aaron wouldn’t see them and stop. Fernando’s employees were a great bunch of guys, but she was sure their rough appearance would appall Mr. Big Shot Hollister.
Skylar tucked the deposit into a bank envelope and locked it in the sturdy safe they had installed several years before.
“Hey, girls,” she said, stepping outside. “How was school?”
Melanie smiled shyly. “It was okay, Mrs. Gibson, but we have a bunch of homework.”
“Every day they load it on,” Karin muttered. “The teachers don’t care about the baseball play-offs.”
“Your team isn’t playing tonight,” Skylar reminded her. “It’s a travel day for them.”
Her daughter stuck her nose in her book. She was in one of her moods. Living with her would be a challenge until the World Series was over, along with the constant reminders that her dad wasn’t there to share it with her.
Skylar went back to work, hurrying through her routine so she could get to her meeting on time. Melanie’s presence troubled her. The teen had continued to show up every day, despite her brother’s disapproval of the Nibble Nook, and the girls did their homework together. Of course, a fair amount of giggling and whispering accompanied the studying, but Skylar periodically checked their progress to be sure they were getting enough done. They also had plans for the weekend—something Aaron was certain to refuse to give his permission for.
Her employees left and she finished by scrubbing the picnic tables and watering the whiskey half barrels she used as planters. She and Jimmie had always taken pride in keeping the Nook clean, and she wasn’t going to let it slide.
“Melanie, do you need a ride home?” she called as she stowed the hose in an outside storage cabinet.
“If you’re not too busy, ma’am.”
“No problem. Hop in the truck.”
Skylar dropped Melanie off and got Karin settled at the house with dinner before racing to the bank, and then to City Hall. Jimmie had become a member of the city council years before and the mayor had “named” her as his replacement...without even asking. She’d wanted to strangle Chester, yet in a way it had been good for her. Still, she wouldn’t mind if she didn’t win the position in the next election.
“Did you hear?” twenty-four-year-old Micki Jo said as Skylar got a cup of coffee. It was hideous, but better than nothing at the end of a long day.
“Hear what?”
“Aaron Hollister is coming tonight to discuss expanding Cooper Industries.”
“He’ll probably increase mechanization so he can cut jobs,” Chester chimed in before Skylar could say anything. “And he’s going to stop buying local products. His purchasing agent told one of the farmers that Hollister claims it’s more efficient to purchase from large producers. I know because Mr. Okishida told Doctor McWilliams’s receptionist who told the pharmaceutical rep, and she mentioned it to our pastor.”
Skylar tried to sort out who had been told what on the rumor mill and decided it didn’t matter. “Maybe somebody heard the story wrong.”
“Hah. Do you know how many farmers it will affect? Not to mention their employees. Mr. Cooper would never do something like this, but Hollister is one of those big city CEOs who will do anything to turn a buck.”
“At least the organic farmers won’t be affected since Cooper Industries doesn’t buy from them, anyhow,” Micki Jo contributed.
The reminder didn’t appear to encourage the mayor. Chester lacked real skills to lead a town, but he was honest and kept trying. Most of the council were second-or third-generation members—Chester “Chet” Vittorino’s father had retired from the mayor’s job when he turned seventy, and since a Vittorino had been mayor in Cooperton for the past forty years, Chet had practically gotten the position by default. His real talent was making Italian food at his restaurant; his chicken cacciatore and brick-oven-baked pizza were the best in Northern California.
“The whole thing is a disaster,” Chet declared.
“That’s our mayor,” Hector Rodriguez murmured in Skylar’s ear. “A real source of optimism.”
Chet glared. His management skills sucked, but his hearing was excellent.
Doug Nakama rubbed the side of his face. “My wife works at Cooper. She used to love her job, and now she’s looking for something else. It’s not the pay—she says the whole atmosphere has changed.”
“I’ve heard how unpopular Aaron’s policies are,” Skylar admitted. “My customers are always complaining.”
The mayor perked up. “You call him Aaron? Then you know Mr. Hollister.”
“We went to school together, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but my daughter told me that his sister pals around with your Karin.”
Skylar tensed. She couldn’t afford to have anyone start speculating about her and Aaron...or Karin. “That doesn’t mean I’m friends with Melanie’s brother. In fact, he—”
“But you know him,” Hector interrupted. “That’s a stroke of luck. I admit this news about the local farmers is a worry.”
“I’m worried, too,” Skylar agreed. “But surely the whole thing is a misunderstanding. Cooper Industries has always needed producers from outside our area, in addition to the local farmers, because they don’t grow everything the factory needs.”
“Misunderstanding?” Chet made a disgusted sound. “Want to bet?”
No, Skylar didn’t want to bet. However hopeful she was trying to sound, it seemed exactly like Aaron to abandon the growers around Cooperton—he’d just call it good business.
The mayor called the meeting to order; his perpetually gloomy expression even gloomier than usual.
Aaron’s presentation had been tacked on to the
