Dev.” Chris Bane, his assistant manager, dragged a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Walmart’s offering—”
“I know what they’re offering.” A better health plan and a generous benefits package. J.T.’s was an independent store. Small potatoes compared to a national chain. “Dammit.”
“There’s also a growing fear that the supercenter will put us out of business. Why shop here when—”
“I’m working on that,” Devlin said. “Renovation and expansion should keep us in the game.”
Chris angled his head. “Shame your dad’s opposed to change.”
“Working on that, too. Do me a favor and temper the gossip on the floor. Tell them we’re in there swinging and have no intention of going down.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.” Devlin drank the last of his coffee and texted his sister: did u call dad?
did u mk nice w/chloe?
will do after wk
now wd b better
“Dammit.” on it
* * *
“Why are you driving so slow?”
“I don’t want to risk a ticket.” Or a fender bender. Chloe was supremely uncomfortable in this four-wheeled boat. She had to sit on the same pillow Daisy usually sat on to see over the dashboard, and the gearshift wasn’t even in the right place. It was on the freaking steering column!
Daisy leaned left and peered over the rims of her prescription Jackie O sunglasses. “You’re going ten miles under the speed limit.”
“The slower I go, the less damage I’ll do if I hit a deer or squirrel or anything. Besides, this road is rutted with potholes.” Chloe flexed her hands on the steering wheel of Daisy’s 1964 Cadillac. 1964! Chloe still couldn’t believe it. This car had been made almost twenty years before she was born. Even so, it was in good working order and pristine condition. Sort of like Daisy. Chloe felt like she was transporting precious cargo in a priceless antique. Hello, pressure ?
They were at least twenty miles from town in the fricking middle of nowhere driving through the middle of the fricking woods. According to Chloe’s new boss, this one-lane dirt road was a shortcut to Sugar Creek—the river, not the town. Chloe didn’t want to damage the car, and she certainly didn’t want to damage Daisy. Either would prompt a visit from Devlin Monroe. Chloe hoped to avoid him for a week or two while she reconnected with her old self or discovered an enlightened new self, someone capable of handling an Alpha Manipulator.
“No offense, kitten, but you drive like an old lady.” Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and grunted. “I would’ve been better off with Morgan Freeman.”
It took a second, but then Chloe flashed on the award-winning movie they’d watched in one of her film classes. “I get it,” she managed without rolling her eyes. “Driving Miss Daisy.” Ha.
“Didn’t you live in New York? On TV people who drive in big cities are fearless.”
“That or insane.”
“Overly cautious people cause more accidents, you know. Punch it, Scaredy-Cat. I’d like to have lunch before it’s time for dinner. I’m starving.”
Chloe’s stomach grumbled in agreement. Last night, she’d lost her appetite after Devlin had crashed her party for two. This morning, she’d been too nervous about her new job to eat anything other than a piece of dry toast. She was starving, too. After raiding Daisy’s refrigerator, Chloe had quickly prepared roast-beef sandwiches and spiced up a fresh but bland batch of pre-made potato salad. The food was stashed in the picnic basket on the backseat along with a bottle of chardonnay and two bottles of water.
Eager to reach their destination, Chloe accelerated, pushing the speedometer to 40 mph.
“Regular daredevil,” Daisy said.
* * *
Thirty minutes and a picnic lunch later, the two women were sprawled on a thick blanket, staring up through the rustling treetops at the cloudless sky. It was a beautiful day. Unseasonably warm for mid-September, according to Daisy.
“I know what they’re offering.” A better health plan and a generous benefits package. J.T.’s was an independent store. Small potatoes compared to a national chain. “Dammit.”
“There’s also a growing fear that the supercenter will put us out of business. Why shop here when—”
“I’m working on that,” Devlin said. “Renovation and expansion should keep us in the game.”
Chris angled his head. “Shame your dad’s opposed to change.”
“Working on that, too. Do me a favor and temper the gossip on the floor. Tell them we’re in there swinging and have no intention of going down.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.” Devlin drank the last of his coffee and texted his sister: did u call dad?
did u mk nice w/chloe?
will do after wk
now wd b better
“Dammit.” on it
* * *
“Why are you driving so slow?”
“I don’t want to risk a ticket.” Or a fender bender. Chloe was supremely uncomfortable in this four-wheeled boat. She had to sit on the same pillow Daisy usually sat on to see over the dashboard, and the gearshift wasn’t even in the right place. It was on the freaking steering column!
Daisy leaned left and peered over the rims of her prescription Jackie O sunglasses. “You’re going ten miles under the speed limit.”
“The slower I go, the less damage I’ll do if I hit a deer or squirrel or anything. Besides, this road is rutted with potholes.” Chloe flexed her hands on the steering wheel of Daisy’s 1964 Cadillac. 1964! Chloe still couldn’t believe it. This car had been made almost twenty years before she was born. Even so, it was in good working order and pristine condition. Sort of like Daisy. Chloe felt like she was transporting precious cargo in a priceless antique. Hello, pressure ?
They were at least twenty miles from town in the fricking middle of nowhere driving through the middle of the fricking woods. According to Chloe’s new boss, this one-lane dirt road was a shortcut to Sugar Creek—the river, not the town. Chloe didn’t want to damage the car, and she certainly didn’t want to damage Daisy. Either would prompt a visit from Devlin Monroe. Chloe hoped to avoid him for a week or two while she reconnected with her old self or discovered an enlightened new self, someone capable of handling an Alpha Manipulator.
“No offense, kitten, but you drive like an old lady.” Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and grunted. “I would’ve been better off with Morgan Freeman.”
It took a second, but then Chloe flashed on the award-winning movie they’d watched in one of her film classes. “I get it,” she managed without rolling her eyes. “Driving Miss Daisy.” Ha.
“Didn’t you live in New York? On TV people who drive in big cities are fearless.”
“That or insane.”
“Overly cautious people cause more accidents, you know. Punch it, Scaredy-Cat. I’d like to have lunch before it’s time for dinner. I’m starving.”
Chloe’s stomach grumbled in agreement. Last night, she’d lost her appetite after Devlin had crashed her party for two. This morning, she’d been too nervous about her new job to eat anything other than a piece of dry toast. She was starving, too. After raiding Daisy’s refrigerator, Chloe had quickly prepared roast-beef sandwiches and spiced up a fresh but bland batch of pre-made potato salad. The food was stashed in the picnic basket on the backseat along with a bottle of chardonnay and two bottles of water.
Eager to reach their destination, Chloe accelerated, pushing the speedometer to 40 mph.
“Regular daredevil,” Daisy said.
* * *
Thirty minutes and a picnic lunch later, the two women were sprawled on a thick blanket, staring up through the rustling treetops at the cloudless sky. It was a beautiful day. Unseasonably warm for mid-September, according to Daisy.
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