“It’s a long story that involves the economy, office politics and a new partner’s secretary who can do her job and mine. Hence, the coffee cart.”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. He knew she’d loved her job and had done it well.
“I’ll survive. I always do.” Deep in her eyes, he saw a suggestion of fear, then she drew a breath and it was gone.
“About the coffee cart. Do you have help?”
“Help?”
“Hired help. Employees. Or do you plan to work seven days a week, twelve hours a day?”
“Yes, I have help. Two high school girls in the afternoon.”
“Do you know how to do payroll?”
Telling when she was truly annoyed was never hard. The pink in her cheeks flamed, and her eyes ignited. “Don’t treat me like an idiot, Hunter. I know what I’m doing. If you don’t want to be part of my vision for my future, then I’m taking it in another direction. And you have nothing to say about it.”
She’d done this with the money she’d tried to give him, the money from refinancing her home. Before he could say that buying the coffee cart was reckless, possibly even ill-advised, she turned around and walked back inside.
He took a step forward as she prepared to close the door on him. “Tomorrow in my office,” he said. “What time can you be there? We’ll set a date for the Closet opening and make a plan for the money for the nonprofits.”
“I’m meeting with Bjorn to sign papers tomorrow.”
“Can you meet Monday?”
“That’s Memorial Day. Aren’t you and the Raleighs going to Fort Stevens for the Civil War reenactment? I’m working with Bjorn.”
“That’s right. Tuesday, then?”
“I’ll call you. The way my life is right now, we may have to do it over the phone.”
That was what he should want—dealing with her over the phone rather than sitting across a table from her or side by side in a restaurant booth. It would simplify his life.
“All right. But, I promised the Food Bank an answer by Friday.”
“I’ll phone you in the middle of the week.” She started to close the door.
“Incidentally...” The single word stopped her. “What about the girls?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you have to open at 5:00 a.m., what about the girls?”
There were sparks in her smile. “I thought I’d sell them into slavery for some operating capital.”
He groaned at her. “I meant, daycare doesn’t open that early.”
“And how would you know when daycare opens?”
He waited a beat. “Rainbow Daycare is my client. I know a lot about them.”
“Well, it was a stupid question, Hunter. When have you known me not to consider my girls? I have to go. Goodbye.” She closed the door.
He stared at it for a moment, thinking he might want to simplify his life, but it didn’t seem to be happening.
* * *
SANDY CALLED HER MOTHER from the sidewalk in front of Toni’s Boutique, an elegant clothing store for women on Commercial Street, absentmindedly noting the colorful resort wear in the window.
“You did what?” her mother exclaimed after Sandy told her about Crazy for Coffee.
“I needed employment, so I bought a business so I could hire myself. Makes good sense to me.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Working for yourself only means more bills, not necessarily more income.”
“Mom, Hunter just did his best to discourage me. Come on. I need positive input. And Toni’s is having a sale. If you’ll watch the girls for me in the mornings between 4:30 and 7:00, when you’ll to take them to daycare, I’ll buy you an outfit.”
She heard her mother gasp. “Four...?”
“And a jacket,” she added quickly. “Just until I can hire someone for those hours. And a pair of shoes.”
Her mother was silent.
“And a car!” Sandy continued with theatrical extravagance. “Mom, I realize it’s a lot to ask...”
“Okay, Okay,” her mother said finally. “You’re lucky I’m an insomniac. I’ll do it. But it better be some car.”
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