Whiskey and Gumdrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance (17 page)

Wincing, Frankie clutched his shoulder.

"Oh, no. I'm sorry." She grabbed his shoulder, as though having her hands on it would make it feel better. "I totally forgot. Are you okay?"

"It's fine." He brushed her off, gently rolling his shoulder while stretching his neck to the opposite side. "Just tender if pushed in certain directions, evidently."

"It's been over a month. Have you gone to physio or anything?"

"It's fine."

She topped up his whiskey and Coke. "I'm sorry. It's just with you helping me fix up the building, I thought it was fine."

"You weren't jamming your hand into it," he grumbled, taking a grateful slug of the drink.
 

Mandy stared at his wet lips, curious what the whiskey would taste like from his mouth. When they'd kissed, his five o'clock shadow had contrasted roughly and sharply with the softness of his damp lips...

She sighed and blinked away the thoughts, making herself sit down and focus on her laptop. Man, she had a problem with him being a partner and it wasn't in any of the ways she'd predicted.

She popped "Wrap it Up distribution" into a search engine to see if she could discover what the equipment holdups were about and was wowed by the flood of recent news about Wrap it Up. Nothing about distribution problems, thankfully. But there were a lot of recent articles with headlines that made her heart skid to a stop like it'd been shot by Mr. Freeze.

Ohhhhh, crap. She slammed the lid of her laptop, Frankie catching it just before it closed.

"What was that?"

She barely dared breath or move. "I don't know," she whispered.

He kept an eye on her as he slowly lifted the lid. "Let's take a look, shall we?"

She clenched her hands, not wanting to read the news. Not wanting to know what she might be up against. What she might have to fight through. What might cause her to lose Frankie.

She jolted out of her chair as Frankie's arm brushed hers as he leaned forward to get a better look at the screen, pivoting it toward him.

He gave her a strange look and she windmilled her arms as she puffed out a large breath, pacing alongside the table. "I can't look. Just—give it to me in five words or less."

Let it not be as bad as it looked.
Please
let it not be as bad as it looked.

"Mandy, relax," he said. "I'm sure it's fine. You know how the business world is with rumors."

She watched his face as he clicked, read, scrolled, clicked, and clicked some more, his expression growing darker, his jaw clenching. Finally, he pried his fingers off the mouse and sat back, shaking his head, his eyes still on the screen. She stepped closer, her gut so tight with dread she could barely croak out, "What? What is it?"

Frankie scratched his forehead and stood. The way he kept glancing at the monitor, she knew it was bad. Really bad.

"What? What? Did Seth
die
?" He hadn't returned her calls for days now. What if he died and left the whole chain to some teenaged love child who would skim off the top and run the business into the ground?

Frankie pointed to the computer. "You'd better read it."

She sunk into a chair, watching Frankie's expression as he downed the last of his drink. He poured himself a fresh one and topped up hers. She took a cautious sip and winced at its strength.

She made herself read the article.

This was much worse than a love child owner. Much, much worse.

The door slammed behind her as Frankie stormed out and Portia scrambled under the couch like her tail was on fire, leaving Mandy to finish her drink in solitude.

* * *

It couldn't be as bad as she assumed. It just couldn't be. She drummed her fingers on the table, thinking of all the reasons it couldn't be that bad.

Reporters loved to slaughter people. Stories like that sold papers. There was blood in the water. Sharks were circling. Blah, blah, blah. It was just reporters doing their job. Nothing more. This, like everything in life, could be handled. And not by hiding on a couch watching soap operas. Although hiding out and watching fictional drama unfold felt pretty damn tempting right now.

No. She shook her head at her empty apartment. She wasn't going to hide. She'd walked into this and had brought Frankie with her. The things mentioned in these articles had all been warning bells she'd ignored in order to get what she wanted.

Seth was in trouble. The chain would soon follow, meaning she'd lose Frankie's inheritance if she didn't find a way out of Seth's mismanagement and over-extension mess. He hadn't done enough market research and had expanded too quickly. But Seth had a nice boat. You didn't go buying nice stuff if you were in trouble. Unless...

No. Of course not. He wouldn't go buying a big yacht in order to run away at some point. That was silly. This wasn't a movie. This was real life.

She massaged her temples. Seth would pull things off. This wasn't his first trip to the rodeo. Look at the way he'd allowed her to modify her agreement in order to protect her interests. Someone who was about to flee or take franchisees for all they had didn't do that. Plus, he'd lent her money.

This was probably one little case of mismanagement with Lexi's branch and Seth expanding too fast and missing a few details that got some suits upset. Lexi seemed like the type to do the bitter revenge thing and had probably gone to the papers to cause a ruckus. Seth would buy her out and the rest of them would live happily ever after.

Frankie burst into the room again and Portia scrambled back under the couch.

"Didn't you do research?" he asked in a pained voice.

"Yes!" She bristled, her muscles tight as she fought for control.

Frankie shifted his weight, his face pale.

"You won't lose your grandpa's building, Frankie. No matter what. I promise."

He met her eyes and she grabbed her coat and purse. "Come on. I have some difficult questions to ask someone." It was a hell of a lot harder to escape hard questions when you had to look someone in the eye and that was just what she was going to do.

* * *

Mandy tore through the mountain roads, Frankie groaning as he grabbed at things to hold him in his seat, exacerbating his shoulder pain. "Could you slow down? It's not like Seth's going to make a break for it and'll be gone if we get there two minutes later."

Mandy shot him a look. "I'm within speed limits."

"Corners aren't supposed to be taken at the speed limit in a jacked up truck." He groaned as she took another corner.

Sighing, she slowed for the next curve. "Fine. But sometimes you need to use what the Ford Company gave you."

"Right now your V6 isn't very sexy, Mandy."

"How do I get my old Frankie back from the aliens that took over your body?"

"Shut up," he muttered and slumped sullenly.

Mandy tore through the avalanche tunnels with nothing but the hum of tires and air whooshing past them as they blew by the rows of vertical supports holding up the tunnel's roof, the setting sun flickering through the openings. There were so many things she could, and should, and probably wouldn't say to Seth. But to be able to see him, in front of her, defending himself, explaining it all...she needed that.

After driving through the city of Dakota, Mandy parked in front of a nondescript two-story building still covered with spring grime, despite it being June. Under the streetlight, a window washer patiently and methodically squeegeed the front window of a dry cleaner's. She glanced at the second storey. Lights on.

Frankie appeared at her side on the sidewalk. "I'm coming with you," he said firmly.

"Of course, but I'm doing the talking. He doesn't know who you are."

"What?"

"Frankie," Mandy said, trying to keep her exasperation in check. "You're a silent backer. You haven't signed anything that has to do with him."

Frankie's mouth turned down and she softened her tone, stepping toward him. "You're the glue behind the scenes. I couldn't do this without you and definitely wouldn't have made it this far." She gave his arm a quick squeeze and turned to the door. "Come on. Let's go talk to a man about a
screwed
up horse."

Frankie let out a chuckle and followed her up the wooden steps to the top floor. Mandy rapped on the door to Seth's office apartment. When nobody answered, Frankie leaned over and knocked again, louder.

Footsteps shuffled on the other side of the door and for a second, Mandy worried she had the address completely wrong—even though she'd been there only a few weeks ago to finalize her contract—and was about to interrupt an elderly couple preparing for bed.

"Who's there?" a muffled voice called after Frankie knocked again.

"Open up, Seth," Frankie said. He shot Mandy a wink and added, "Police!"

The door slowly opened a crack. Seth's eyebrows lifted in surprise and the door swung all the way open. "What the hell?" He glanced from Frankie to Mandy to Frankie again.

Mandy rolled her eyes at Frankie and squeezed past Seth, her purse clacking against the doorway. "It's just us."

Seth slid a large box to the side with his foot. "New menus," he explained quietly, his eyes on Frankie, who had followed Mandy in and was now standing tall, legs spread, arms crossed. She laid a hand on his arm, giving him a light nudge to get his attention. He met her eye and slowly relaxed his stance, even though the vibe coming off him was still very much Bruce Willis with a vendetta. She didn't know if she should be relieved or alarmed, but either way, his presence and implied backup would help ensure she'd ask all the things she came to find out without chickening out.

Mandy presented Seth with the article she'd printed off of the Internet and watched him pale.

Pulling the door open further, Seth said to Frankie, "I think this is going to be a confidential business meeting."

"I'm staying." Frankie reassumed his bodyguard stance. "I'm her financial backer."

"Frankie, it's okay," Mandy said gently.

"Your backer?" Seth asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

She shot Frankie a look to indicate he needed to shut his cute little yap.

Seth narrowed his eyes at Mandy and Frankie, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Didn't you look at my financials? It was obvious I needed a backer." She crossed her arms, knowing it didn't matter to him or their agreement if she had a backer.

"I thought you had more assets and simply couldn't liquidate them immediately." He sighed and rubbed his mouth. "I would have appreciated knowing you weren't able to afford this on your own."

Mandy moved closer, watching as guilt flashed across his face, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. "Then I suppose you should have asked," she replied.

Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look. It'll all work out."

"Damn well better," Frankie muttered and Mandy shot him another look.

Seth handed the article back to Mandy. "Lexi's holding a grudge and wants to see me sweat. Instead of letting me buy her out because she's unhappy, she wants to take it public. She thinks this is going to keep me from looking at buyout offers from other companies. You'll still be opening in a few short months." He edged closer to the door to end their conversation.

"That doesn't explain the stuff about you being overextended," she said.

Frankie closed in behind Mandy, a tall, strong brick tower.

Seth looked from Mandy to Frankie and sighed. "You may as well have a seat." He pointed to a low, elegant couch covered in papers and menus. "Just shove stuff out of the way." He turned his back and poured himself a cup of coffee from a pot set on a side table. He turned to them, holding up the pot. "Coffee?"

They shook their heads, not moving to sit down. Despite having spent hours here signing papers Mandy still wasn't sure if this old apartment served as the franchise headquarters, a home office, a test kitchen or Seth's home. It was filled with table and chair samples, posters, desks and tons of signs. And there were definitely more boxes than last time she was here.

Seth settled into the armchair across from the still vacant couch, his posture stiff. There were a million things she wanted to ask him, but couldn't figure out where to start.

"So?" Mandy finally said, settling in across from Seth, leaning forward. She glanced at Frankie, who stayed by the door, arms crossed. "What's really going on?"

Seth took a slow swallow of his coffee. For a moment, it appeared as though he wasn't going to answer. "Lexi's second location. Her most recent one. It never got off the ground properly." He gave a little shrug and crossed an ankle over his knee.

Mandy nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"Mismanagement, I suppose," Seth added, crossing his arms. Mandy waited for him to continue, banking on him disliking the silence and wanting to fill it with stuff she hadn't already hypothesized on her own.

"It was a risky venture, in some ways. She didn't have the time to run both and the first one was just getting to the point where she couldn't be there for a day or two without everything going bonkers." Seth rubbed his temples in exaggerated circles like he was doing some mumbo-jumbo mind trick on himself. "And then a competitor popped up next door to her newest location. That's the reason for the secondary franchise clause in the agreement you signed. And also why I now check with council and the permit offices to see if there are any competitors about to open in the same region." He shook his head slowly and let out a long, defeated-sounding sigh. "Because my chain shot out of nowhere and is suddenly experiencing growth, the press is having a field day and blowing things out of proportion."

"Did you talk to Blueberry Springs?" Frankie asked, his voice a low grumble from the other side of the room. His tone made Mandy's body react in a way that felt a lot like lust and she shook it off while shooting him a look. She'd already had this conversation with Seth; Frankie needed to shut his whiskey-flavored pie hole.

A phone rang in another room and Seth ignored it. "I did," he replied, turning to Frankie.

"And did they agree to not approve another dining establishment until Mandy's was on its feet?"