Chapter 11

Rory

I called Tantric Books at ten on the dot the next morning. It was a beautiful day and I was enjoying fresh ground coffee and a breakfast buffet that a local catering company I was trying out had brought over. I was saving most of it for tomorrow, but I couldn't resist the cheese Danishes. Kicking back in my lounge chair, I watched a seagull trying for a fish. The phone rang about ten times before Dawn answered.

"Tantric Books," she whispered.

"You need to give me your cellphone number." I felt the need to whisper back to her. It was almost as if she was next to me.

"Why?" she whispered.

"So I can call you when the shop is closed."

"Why?"

"Okay, you got me. I just want to sext you," I said in a normal tone. "Good morning, sunshine. I've been thinking about your ass."

"I don't have time for this shit this morning."

"You sound a little grumpy. Hard night?"

"Tequila hangover."

"Ouch," I said, wincing. "I'll tell you what. I'm sending over breakfast. What do you say to a Bloody Mary and some eggs and bacon?"

"How about a yogurt and a granola bar and lots of orange juice."

"Really?" I couldn't imagine a more revolting breakfast.

She grunted.

"You're the boss."

I hung up and placed the order for delivery. I owed her for the bells and for making the outing with Cammy a qualified success. Maybe next time we'd go to a museum or something. I made a note to get some DVDs that Cammy might be interested in. Now that she was up and about, she'd want something more stimulating to watch than daytime television.

I had to interview a few masseuses today. A tough job, but someone had to do it. I was hoping to convince Dawn to have a few come in for a wellness day for her. It would bring in some traffic and maybe she could sell some of that high-end hand cream and face shit that all the chicks went crazy for. I remembered spending three hundred dollars on a set for my mother one Christmas. The spa had to be making serious margin on that. How expensive could goat milk be, anyway?

Also on the horizon was talking Dawn into letting Millie and Jeannine watch the store for her on Monday so I could take her into the city and show her the products she should be selling. And while we were in Manhattan, maybe going out to see a play, dinner, drinks, and wild sex in the limo back to Connecticut. With any other woman I've ever dated, this would be a done deal. With Dawn it would be like playing a game of chess.

Unfortunately, I was having a hard time getting coverage for her store on Monday.

Jeannine seemed to be suffering from the same tequila hangover as Dawn. "I'm sorry, Mr. Parker, but I work until five. I'd be glad to hop on over and work at Tantric until closing, but I couldn't get there before five thirty."

"Let's plan on that for Monday."

"Um, okay. Does Dawn know about this?"

"No, and neither does my father, so don't spoil the surprise."

"All right."

Millie was a little bit easier to convince, but she didn't want to be there for more than a couple of hours. "I get overwhelmed. And if it's possible, I'd rather do around lunchtime. I don't want the responsibility of opening or closing."

That left a lot of hours to deal with. In the end, I called my secretary, Bridgette, in New York. "I need you to come down to Connecticut and work a retail shop on Monday."

"What?" she said.

"I know. You can take the limo. It'll pick you up at 7 a.m. I'll need you there until 5:30 and it'll take you back."

"Why me?"

"Because you're all that I've got in the area who I trust."

She sighed.

"Meals are on me. You'll be home by eight and you can come in late on Tuesday."

"What's the dress code like?"

"New Age flake," I said.

Bridgette laughed. "Can I wear my tie-dye shirt and Birkenstocks?"

"I honestly don't give a fuck. Can you ring a cash register?"

"How hard can it be?"

"Good point. Schedule the limo to meet you outside your apartment."

"I'm stocking it with the good coffee and doughnuts from The Beanery."

"Knock yourself out. While you're at it, I need you to find a tea shop for me in Loonsbury, Connecticut. It used to be called Tea Towne, but I'm not sure what the new name is. Find them and see if they have a thirty-day sampler kit and send it to Dawn Nolan at Tantric Books. That's the place you'll be working on Monday."

"Tantric Books, huh? Sounds kinky."

"It is. Can you handle it?"

"Not a problem, sir."

"Good. I'll see you Monday morning."

I finished my Danish and put the rest of the breakfast into the fridge. I scheduled the cleaning crew to come to the yacht this afternoon and gave orders for the chef on how I wanted the surf and turf done tonight. Big Maine lobsters, juicy T-bone steaks, fluffy baked Idaho potatoes, and asparagus spears au gratin.

I called Dawn back a few hours later.

"Tantric Books," she said, sounding slightly more alive.

"What do you want for lunch?"

"A stomach pump."

"Hmmm, I have a really rich dinner planned for us tonight. I need you better so you can enjoy it."

"I'll be fine."

"Cheesecake or tiramisu?"

"You on a budget?" she quipped with her usual flair. "Both, duh."

"As you wish."

I sent over some mushroom risotto for lunch hoping that would help fortify her stomach.

When the cleaning crew got here, I took off for a few hours. I wanted to talk to the Clinton selectmen to see if they were interested having me develop their dock area with new shops. Then, I had to go apply pressure on another of Haven's holdouts. This one was ready to crack.

After being given the bureaucratic runaround by Clinton politicians, I was ready for some easy pickings. I pulled up a few blocks away from Tantric Books and walked into the Knautical Knitter. The shop was quaint, in an old lady sort of way. There was a wall of yarn sorted by shade and bins of sale yarn. Another wall was full of needles and contraptions.

"Hello, Mr. Parker."

Selene O'Toole was the proprietor and she regarded me like I was a rattlesnake. I smiled at her, hoping my usual charm would disarm her. Unfortunately, she wasn't falling for my bullshit, which was a pity.

"I was wondering if you had considered my offer."

"I'm considering it," she said. "Can I get you a cup of tea?"

What is it with this town and tea? "No, thanks. Was there something I could do to sweeten the deal any further for you?"

"I'm an old woman, Mr. Parker."

Here we go.

"And I'm set in my ways."

I pasted a pleasant expression on my face and nodded encouragingly.

"I don't have the inclination to move my whole life around, and I'm not ready to retire."

"What if I hired a moving crew that could pack up this place and set it back up in a new locale over a weekend?"

"In addition to the current buyout terms?"

She was a shrewd old broad. I liked her. "Yes. I will buy out your lease from your landlord. I will hand you a check for one hundred thousand dollars."

She held up a finger. "Money order."

I bowed my head as if she caught me trying to get away with something. "Of course. And I will close this shop Friday night and have it set up as close to this as possible Monday morning."

"I need high-speed Internet and cable at the new place as well."

"Done." I held out my hand. "Can we do this weekend?"

Selene's eyes widened. "So soon?"

"You don't have to lift a finger. I hand you the keys and you drive to Westbrook to your brand-new store, closer to your home and in a nicer neighborhood."

"You said there was air-conditioning and heat."

"Of course." It was a strain to keep up the pleasant act.

"And it's clean?""

"Mrs. O'Toole, why don't we go for a ride and you can see the shop again?"

She peered out into the parking lot. "That cherry-red convertible yours?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Let me grab my shawl. Peter, I need you to watch the store."

At least Mrs. O'Toole had a sales clerk. Or maybe it was her husband. I didn't care. I was about to close another deal. That left two more shops, not including Dawn's.