“The worst. One of the cases in the front shattered.” Lena hadn’t given too many details, not wanting to involve the employees in the drama. The business was hers, along with all the responsibility—good and bad—that came with it.
“Give me a sec and I’ll help out,” Lena said as she rushed back to her office. After securing her purse in the safe, she donned an apron and slipped behind the counter.
The following hour was a blur of baked goods, parchment paper, boxes, and ribbons. But by the end of it, most of the cookies and all the cupcakes were gone. The croissant sandwiches had also disappeared. She was happy, but the memory of the hoodlums doused it. She had to pay them fifteen percent of the restaurant’s earnings. Anger burned through her at the thought of her no longer working for the business and her future, but rather working so two losers didn’t have to. I have to do something about this. Then she remembered Sheriff Windsor and his deputies were on top of it, and she relaxed.
“You’ve got to be pissed more often.” Adalyn joked. “We couldn’t sell them fast enough. It’s been like that all day.”
“If it keeps up through dinner, you may be able to get another display case soon,” Sarah noted.
Adalyn raised her brow. “Isn’t the insurance going to cover it?”
“Clumsiness isn’t covered.”
Before Adalyn could ask another question, Lena ducked into the back area and went to her office. Picking up the file Heath had dropped off, she took her purse out of the safe and walked back into the bistro.
“I’m heading out to the print shop to get some flyers done. Heath turned over the new branding he’s been working on for the past few months, and I want everything to be ready for the next holiday sale we put together. Are you guys going to be okay?” Lena asked as she took the flash drive out of the file and dropped it into her purse.
Adalyn smiled. “We’ll be fine. We have the meeting for the Offerman wedding later tonight too. Anything you need me to prep for that?”
Lena smiled back and shook her head. Thankfully, Adalyn was always on her game. Lena made a mental note to give her a promotion when everything finally wound down from the wedding season. Without a doubt, her star employee could manage it, and Lena had enough in the bank to facilitate a small pay raise for one of her hardest workers. Well, she would, so long as she didn’t have to pay off those thugs. Her body tensed at the memory and she rolled her shoulders, trying to shake it off.
“I’ll keep my phone on if you need me,” she informed her before walking out the door.
Hissing, she braced her hand over her eyes at the early afternoon sun. That was one thing she wasn’t used to much of anymore; she rarely came outside when there was sunlight. There was too much work to be done inside, and by the time everything was marked off her list, it was dark. Still, the short walk through town to the print shop wasn’t unwelcomed. As she strolled down San Juan Street, she made sure to pay attention to the buzz of the crowds, the pungent aromas from the lunch rush at the corner cafes, and the fronds of the palm trees swaying in the midday air.
After the realization that she was living life with her head down, coupled with the brush of danger the night before, she was trying to take more time to appreciate the little things, like being able to walk around the town square, enjoying the temperate wind twirling through her loose hair.
Lena stopped in front of the printing shop Mr. DeLuca—the owner of the ceramic store a few doors down from the bistro—had highly recommended.
A customer pushed past her with a murmured apology as he entered. A burst of cold air circulated around her feet, then quickly dissipated into the warmth of the summer day. For a split second, she dreaded going into the artificial light of the shop, but she couldn’t lollygag all afternoon. She had a ton of paperwork to finish back at the office, and then she had to meet with the Offermans.
An electronic buzz squawked loudly when she entered the shop, and she flinched. It was hardly as charming as her happy bell, but to each their own. Various computers, shelves of organized paper, and enormous printers behind the counter made her break out into a sweat. As embarrassed as she was to admit it, technology had never been her strong suit. When she thought about how much money she’d spent on computer courses, she cringed.
Lena lightly fingered the flash drive in her purse while she waited behind the customer who had bumped into her outside.
There was a teenage boy waiting on him, bumbling around a bit. He kept talking in small fits and starts, as if he was overwhelmed, and he whirled around in place, looking at the various computer monitors before frantically typing something into the laptop in front of him.
“I need some help here,” the teenager called out in a pleading voice, laced with urgency and panic.
“I’m coming. We’ll get it all sorted, don’t worry about it,” a deep, gravelly voice said from the back room.
Every cell in her body stood at attention. That voice. It sounds like Tank, but it can’t be. I can’t picture him in a printing store.
“What seems to be the problem?” Tank asked as he crossed over to the clerk.
It’s him. A million butterflies fluttered in her stomach. I have to get out of here. He hasn’t seen me yet. But she didn’t budge from her spot. Just seeing him made her giddy, nervous, and happy all at once.
Straightening her shoulders, she watched as Tank’s tattoos danced along his tanned and oh, so very toned arms while he looked over the kid’s shoulder. She couldn’t help but notice that his jeans fit him perfectly in all the right places, and that the tight-fitting gray T-shirt he wore molded to his chest in the best possible way. Yeah, he fit the part of the sexy bad boy parents warned their daughters about.
“It’s all fixed. Your order will be ready in two days.” Tank walked over to the counter.
“Thanks for your patience, Mr. Rinaldo. Sometimes these machines can be fickle.”
The man in front of her nodded. “It’s no problem, Tank. You always take good care of your customers.”
Silently, she prayed her pulse would go back to normal and her body would cool down. Focus. Glancing behind her, she stared enviously at the door. I have to get out of—
“Lena?” She jerked around and looked at him. “I was wondering when we’d bump into each other. I was ready to give Dawson a call, though. You’ve been on my mind.”
“I’ve been busy. Your shop was recommended to me.” She took the flash drive out of her purse and waved it in the air. “Business. Pure business.”
“That’s what they all say.” He winked, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief as he patted the teenager on the shoulder. “It should work now for the next customer. Do you have any questions, Dylan?”
“Nah, we worked out the bugs. Thanks, sir.” Dylan typed in a series of strokes before making his way toward one of the massive printers to the left.
Tank turned back to her. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Come over here and I’ll get you squared away.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll take real good care of me,” Lena muttered under her breath, hearing her best friend say the exact same thing as she pushed the flash drive toward him.
“I need five hundred of these—white paper, color ink.”