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“She doesn’t take it,” Gina murmured before shrugging. “I’m just saying, Heather. You have to take responsibility for your part in it.”
“You think I should tell her no.”
“Everyone thinks you should tell her no.” Gina’s expression turned sympathetic. “I get that’s easy for me to say. She’s your mom and you’ve been taking care of her all your life. Walking away from that, from who you are, would be really hard. I just hate to see you trapped.”
“Me, too,” Heather said, wishing there was a bright side to her situation. “Once I get my degree, things will be different. I’ll have options.” She managed a smile. “Plus, with you taking a class with me in the fall, I have to go back to school or you’ll kick my ass.”
Gina grinned. “I don’t see myself as the ass-kicking type, but I’ll make an exception for you.” Her humor faded. “I wish you could move out. You need to get away from her.”
“I know but it’s not that easy to do.”
“I just don’t understand her and how she treats you. It’s not right. I’d never ask Noah to give up something for me. I want to make his life better.”
Heather knew that Gina was trying to be supportive, but the words weren’t helping. For as long as she could remember, she’d been the reason Amber wasn’t happy. Her mother always talked about everything she could have done and been, if only she hadn’t gotten pregnant.
For a long time Heather had believed every word her mother said. She’d grown up feeling guilty for being alive. Over time her views had shifted and now there were days when she knew that whatever happened, her mother would find a way to be unhappy and blame someone else. It was simply who Amber was. But those days didn’t come often enough. There were times when Heather wondered if she was ignoring the obvious—that in some ways she was just like her mother, blaming someone else for her circumstances. Leaving at sixteen or even eighteen had been impossible, but what about now? She was twenty. She had a car. She could get a job somewhere else. So why not just drive across Getaway Bridge and keep going?
Part of the reason was she no longer had a nest egg. With the six thousand dollars gone, she was left with whatever she got on her next paycheck. There was also the nagging suspicion that her mom couldn’t make it without her. Amber didn’t pay any of the bills, didn’t buy food. If Heather left, how would she survive? And while she could tell herself that wasn’t her problem, she couldn’t make herself believe it. Which meant Gina was right—she was trapped, and she couldn’t seem to find a way out.
* * *
CK Industries was bustling. Sophie enjoyed the activity, knowing it meant her company was getting back on its feet. Today she was hosting a local job fair and the employment agency was sending her candidates for a bookkeeping position and an office manager.
She pulled Heather out of shipping to help with the surprisingly large crowd of people who had shown up for the 10 a.m. fair. Sophie looked at the twenty-five or thirty people in the parking lot and thought maybe she should have hired an office manager first. Or put some thought into the job fair. She wasn’t even sure how many people she needed and for what positions.
Sophie yelled for Bear as she dragged a rolling dry-erase board into the main part of the warehouse.
“How many people do you need and why?” she asked, pulling the cap off a marker. “You said an inventory person.”
“I said inventory control. There’s a difference. We need at least three more stockers and pickers. You know, at some point you’re going to have to look at robots.”
“Not today.” She wrote down inventory control manager, stockers-slash-pickers. “Do you really think we’ll find someone who has experience with inventory control during a job fair?”
“If we don’t, you can tell the employment agency. At least this way, there’s no fee.”
Sophie liked the sound of that. “Okay, who else?”
“We need more people in shipping,” Heather said. “At least two.” She hesitated. “I know I’ve only been working here a couple of days, but I’ve kept track of how many orders I can fulfill in a shift and even if I get faster we need two more people.”
Sophie smiled at her. “I trust your assessment.” She added shippers to the list.
“A janitor of some kind. You need people on the phones for order processing.” Bear thought for a moment. “Is the person on the phone an order taker?”
“We do all that online,” she said. “And we have customer service. I use a call center for that so it’s taken care of. Any problems they can’t resolve are routed to us but there aren’t very many.”
“Still, someone needs to have the responsibility. If it’s not a full-time job, then it needs to be lumped in with something else.” Bear frowned. “How did you do things back in California? Don’t you have your org chart? We can just duplicate that.”
“I don’t have one.” She frowned at him. “I’ve been too busy to deal with hiring people until now. I was here until ten last night, unpacking cases of cat food. How do you think everything gets on the shelves?”
“That’s not your job, Sophie. You’re not focused on what’s important. Just because you can do every job doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to spend your time that way.”
“There isn’t anyone else.”
Bear sighed loudly. “That’s what the job fair is for.”
They glared at each other.
Heather cleared her throat. “So, um, are these all the positions that are open?”
Sophie looked at the list on the board. “For now.”
“Who’s doing the interviewing?” Heather asked.
“I am.”
Bear rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re doing it yourself. Why ask for help when you’re so damned capable? Desks are getting delivered later today. You can put them together and drag them into place and while you’re at it, give the place a new coat of paint.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Your attitude isn’t making me like you more.”
“Good to know. I’m beginning to think you were successful in spite of yourself and not because of any skill set you have.”
“You did not just say that.”
“I did and we both know it’s true.”
Heather took a step back. “The kids don’t like it when mom and dad fight.”
Sophie forced a smile. “We’re not fighting. Bear’s being a big ol’ butthead. There’s a difference.” The man clearly didn’t understand how much work was involved with a company like CK Industries. No one knew the business as well as she did. No one cared as much.
Amber walked into the warehouse. “There are people waiting out there. They’ve formed a line. I didn’t think you expected me to wait in that.” She paused expectantly. “I’m here.”
Sophie wished there was an alternative to hiring Amber, but couldn’t figure out what it might be. At least her cousin was walking a little more quickly and without help.
“Great,” she said. “You wanted to answer phones, right? So why didn’t you show up before today?”
“You never called me and told me to start.”
“But you knew I didn’t have anyone working here. You knew I needed help.”
Amber sighed. “Do you want me to answer phones or not?”
Sophie waved toward the offices. Amber walked into the first one, then turned back. “There’s no desk.”
“Yes, but there’s a phone.”
As if on cue, the phone started ringing.
Sophie pointed. “That would be for you.”
“But there’s no desk. There’s no paper or pen or computer and there’s no desk.”
The phone continued to ring. Heather jogged over and picked it up. “CK Industries, this is Heather, can I help you?”
Amber folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not working without a desk or supplies. It’s ridiculous. Why are you hiring people if you’re not ready for them? This is no way to run a business.”
Bear disappeared into his office. He returned with a chair, a pad of paper and a pen. “Here. You’ll get a desk later.”
Heather gestured frantically for the paper and pen. “Uh-huh. The wrong mugs. I’m sorry. Let me look into that. Do you have your order number?”
She wrote down the information and promised that someone would call back. When she hung up, she tried to give the information to her mother.
“No way,” Amber told her. “I’m not dealing with a bunch of cranky customers. I’ll answer the phones for CK Industries but you need someone else to process complaints. That is not my thing. Plus, I need a desk.”
“The desks are coming,” Sophie said, trying not to grit her teeth. “Until then, can you please make do?”
Amber held up her hands. “You’re in a mood. I didn’t know you’d be difficult to work for. I’m not sure this is going to work out for me.”
Bear wheeled the chair into the empty office. “Please try,” he said.
Sophie reached for the piece of paper. “I’ll find out about the order.”
Bear snatched the information from her. “No, you’ll interview people. I’ll find out about the order.”
“But...”
He pointed to the loading dock door where people were waiting. “Sophie, hire some people.”
“I’m hiring, I’m hiring.”
But before she could return to the waiting applicants, a big flatbed truck drove into the parking lot. Sophie grinned at Bear.
“There it is, in all its glory.”
“What is it?” Amber asked.
“A forklift. I’m in love.”
Bear looked from the delivery truck to her and back. “Let me guess. You can drive a forklift.”
“Of course. Bear, there’s no position in my company that I can’t do.”
He returned his attention to her. “I’m sure that’s true.”
“You say that like it’s not a good thing.”
He shook his head, then pointed at the open loading dock door. “Get me some help.”
“You’re so bossy.”
But she spoke the words with a smile. She had a new forklift. It was going to be a good day.
* * *
Kristine drove to the private airstrip just beyond the bridge to the mainland. Her second part-time job was catering to the private jets that used the tiny airport. With the exception of Bruno, there were only a handful of flights a year, but Bruno made his way to the area at least once a month, sometimes more often. The pilot contacted her a couple of days before each flight, letting her know what Bruno would like to have on board. Kristine provided the food and billed the company leasing the jet.
She had no professional culinary training, but a friend of hers had told her about the job a couple of years ago and Kristine had applied. Her interview had required her to provide lunch. She’d offered a version of high tea but instead of smoked salmon or egg salad sandwiches, she’d made little sandwich squares of turkey and Brie, and her mother’s famous chicken curry. She added her blackberry brownies, a couple of bottles of local wine and had been hired in fewer than three bites.
Kristine wasn’t interested in catering, but the markup for the private jet meals was 300 percent. Plus, she had an unlimited budget on food. It was fun to head to Seattle every couple of months and stock up on exotic ingredients to supplement what she got locally.
Bruno Provencio was a wine distributor. He flew into the area to make deals with winemakers. At least she thought that was what he did. He’d been vague and she was afraid to ask for specifics, fearing she would sound like the country—or island—bumpkin she was. He was not much taller than she was, but very good-looking and so well dressed. He always had on a gorgeous suit she suspected cost more than her mortgage and car payment combined. And he was nice. Whenever he flew in, he always asked about her family and complimented her on the previous meal. Yes, she was a happily married woman, but every now and then it was fun to hang out with a handsome man who flew in a private jet and talked about wine and going to Italy or France the way she talked about going to Costco.
She arrived a few minutes before the jet was due to land and parked her SUV. The day was cloudy, but there didn’t seem to be much energy in the clouds, so she doubted it would rain. As she sat in the quiet of her car, she thought about what Ruth had mentioned—the bakery space now for lease in town.
She was tempted. Leasing the old bakery would mean having real ovens and mixers and counter space. She would work during the day and not have to worry about where to put the equipment when she was done. She could give up her frantic night of baking right before the weekend. She could start shipping her cookies and brownies. The wineries were asking for more cookies with each order, but she was limited by time and space. She didn’t think she could physically work two nights in a row, and baking in her kitchen during the day was a problem. Just getting everything set up took an hour and then she had to clean up and get ready for dinner. A designated location made the most sense.
She wanted to get out her business plan and run the numbers. She knew how much she needed to get things going, she knew what equipment she wanted. She even went online regularly to check out used equipment for sale in the greater Seattle area. But first she had to talk to Jaxsen about start-up money and for that she would need to know what the lease would cost. Assuming he let her do it.
Not let, she amended. She didn’t need his permission. She was an adult who could do what she wanted. It was just, well, she wanted him to be excited for her. To understand that sometimes she needed to be more than his wife and the boys’ mom. Sometimes she just wanted to be Kristine Fielding, business owner.
She heard the sound of an approaching jet and got out of her SUV. From the backseat she collected a bag filled with wrapped cookies and a tote brimming with all the ingredients for a very fancy charcuterie and cheese plate along with an assortment of crackers and a to-go container filled with the chicken salad from the Blackberry Island Inn’s dining room. Bruno never said it was his favorite, but she knew it was.
She closed the hatch of her SUV and watched the private jet land. The sleek aircraft was much smaller than a commercial jet. Inside there was seating for eight and a surprisingly nice bathroom. Every touch was luxurious, especially the butter-soft leather on the seats.
The door of the aircraft opened and Bruno stepped out. He searched until he saw her, then smiled, waved and started in her direction.
“Kristine. So nice to see you,” he said, reaching for her hand, then drawing her close and lightly kissing both her cheeks. “You’re always on time. I appreciate that.”
She started to say it was no big deal—everywhere on the island was close and she only had to pop over the bridge to get to the airfield—but she nodded instead. Sometimes less was more.
“I brought you the cookies,” she said, holding out the first bag. “Six dozen, as per your request.”
“Thank you so much.” He looked inside the bag. “My youngest sister is getting married and she begged for the cookies to be part of the gift bag she’s putting together as she and her eleven closest friends head off for her bachelorette weekend in Las Vegas.” He winced. “I can only hope they get home in one piece.” He motioned to the airplane. “Shall we? I’m sure you’re only stopping here for a few minutes before heading off to take care of your... What is it you call them?”
“My fifty-thousand errands?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m actually not scrambling today. It’s unusual.”
They walked to the plane and went up the stairs.
The interior was done in cream and a rich caramel color. She could stand up with a couple of inches to spare. While Bruno tucked away the cookies in a closet, she cleaned up the dishes and food from the breakfast service, then plated the meat and cheese, before wrapping the serving tray in plastic and tucking it in the surprisingly large refrigerator. She arranged sliced fruit on a second, smaller tray and put it away, as well, then showed him the container of chicken salad.
“Don’t forget this,” she told him. “I know you love it.”
“I do. Very much.”
They were in relatively close quarters. His hair was nearly black, his eyes only slightly darker than the leather seats. He smelled good—some kind of expensive soap and a hint of cologne. Bruno often mentioned one of his three sisters or his brother or his parents, but there wasn’t ever talk of a wife or girlfriend. She wasn’t sure what that meant. Was he chronically single or did he not like women? Or, and this was the most likely answer, was it none of her business?
He reached around her, his forearm brushing her side. He picked up a coffee mug and wiggled it.
“My morning appointment isn’t for an hour,” he said lightly. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”
“That would be nice,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
Although she didn’t really want coffee, she was very interested in sitting in one of the plush seats. Just for a few minutes. She could close her eyes and pretend her lifestyle meant jetting wherever in amazing luxury. Oh, and it was just no big deal at all.
She held in a laugh as she reached for the coffeepot and poured them each a mug.
“Cream or sugar?” she asked.
“No, thank you.”
She added cream to hers, then sat across from him.
The seat was even more comfortable than she’d imagined. There were plenty of buttons and knobs to the side. She was careful not to touch them as she ran her fingers along the burled walnut trim.
“How many wineries are you visiting today?” she asked.
“Just one. I have a special account that is insisting on first chance at a new release, so here I am. I will taste the wine and if it’s all it’s supposed to be, I will make an exclusive deal with the winery.” He paused. “Next month I’m heading to Italy and France for a buying trip.”
“In your private plane?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Yes,” he said with a chuckle. His warm gaze settled on her. “Have you been to Europe?”
“Me? I wish, but no. Jaxsen and I talk about it but with the three boys, there’s really no way.” Which was mostly true. They couldn’t afford it, although she suspected even if there was enough money, Jaxsen would much rather go river rafting somewhere exotic or surfing in Costa Rica. He wasn’t really a Europe kind of person.
“Maybe when they get older,” Bruno told her.
“Yes, maybe then.”
“How is Tommy doing with his new laundry duties?”
She stared at him over her mug. “How can you remember we talked about that?” She laughed. “He’s actually doing really well. JJ was a nightmare, but Tommy’s more of a go-along-to-get-along kind of guy. I’m not sure how Grant is going to react. I suppose I will be saved by the fact that if his older brothers do it, he wants to do it, too.”
“They sound like extraordinary boys.”
“They are to me and that’s what matters, right?”
Bruno’s gaze locked with hers. The intense stare was unexpected and a little confusing. Kristine found herself feeling flustered and awkward, which was not a happy combination.
“I, ah, should let you get to work,” she said as she rose and carried her mug back to the small galley. She washed it and set it in the dish rack. When she finished, she went down the stairs and into the cool, cloudy morning. Bruno followed.
She faced him. “Have your people let me know the next time you’re in town,” she said. “I’ll bake more cookies.”
He laughed. “That would be nice.”
“Enjoy Europe.”
“I will.” He paused. “You should come with me sometime.”
While she knew he was just being nice to say that, she couldn’t help laughing at the idea. “We both know that will never happen. My family would cease to function if I wasn’t around.” Her running off to France and Italy in a private jet. Sure. Why not?
She was still chuckling as she told him goodbye and returned to her SUV. As if. Not that the jet wasn’t nice, but honestly if she was going to throw caution to the wind and do something totally out of character, she would much rather open her own store and sell her cookies and brownies. She would leave the jet-setting to the Kardashians and daydream about rolling cooling racks and industrial-size ovens.
Chapter Six
“Get up.”
Sophie lay on her back, trying desperately to keep that relaxed “I could so go back to sleep” feeling.
“I work hard all week,” she said, pulling up the covers and burrowing into the warmth of her bed. She shifted the phone to her other hand. “Sunday is the only day I sleep in. You love me. Don’t you think I deserve to stay in bed?”
“I think you need to do something other than sleep and work.” Kristine sounded more amused than annoyed. “You blew me off last week. You’re not doing it again. Get your butt out of bed, put on a pair of yoga pants and be ready in thirty minutes. Either I show up and take you to Tai Chi or I show up with three boys who just had way too much syrup on their pancakes. You can breathe and relax or you can listen to their shrill energy. It’s your call.”
“When did you get so bossy?”
“Around the time I had three kids under the age of five.”
“What was I doing?”
“Building an empire.”
“Oh, right.” Sophie sat up. “Can you at least bring me coffee?”
“Let me guess. You haven’t unpacked your coffee maker yet and there’s no food in the house.”
Sophie thought about all the boxes still stacked in her garage. “I was going to do that today only now I have to go to dumb Tai Chi. What is that anyway? Is it like yoga?”
“You asked that before. No, it’s not like yoga. It’s about finding balance and being centered. And breathing.”
Sophie laughed. “So nothing I’m good at.”
“Exactly. And that would be the point. Tick, tick, tick.”
With that, Kristine hung up.
Sophie tossed the phone on the bed and stretched. If she was going to exercise, there was no point in showering. She got up and rummaged through her dresser. At least she’d managed to unpack most of her clothes. Kitchen items had seemed less important. She usually grabbed some kind of to-go breakfast on the way to the warehouse. But she really did have to think about getting more food in the house at some point. And unpacking her coffee maker, if nothing else.
Fifteen minutes later she had on leggings, a long-sleeved T-shirt and an oversize sweatshirt with the CK logo on the front. She was debating looking for her coffee maker when the doorbell rang.
“You’re early,” she told her cousin as Kristine entered the house.
“You need time to drink this.”
Sophie took the offered insulated drink container and smiled. “You saved me. Why are you so nice?” She took a sip, ready for the warmth and smoothness of a perfect cup of coffee only to feel some cold, thick, nasty ooze on her tongue. She managed to swallow before glaring at her cousin.
“What is it? My God, that’s horrible. What is the flavor? Nettles and brine? Jeez.”
Kristine rolled her eyes. “Seriously? It’s a vanilla protein powder flavored with blackberries. When did you get so dramatic?”
Protein powder? Sophie did her best not to gag. “When you started trying to kill me. It’s not enough that you’re the perfect mother? Now you have to be healthy, too? You’re no longer my favorite cousin.”
Kristine raised her eyebrows. “Really? You like Amber better than me?”
Sophie sipped more of the gross drink. “Okay, no, but if I had a third cousin I would for sure like her better.”
“You’re lying. Now finish your drink.”
“I’d rather have coffee.”
“I’m sure that’s true. You can get coffee after class.”
“And a cinnamon roll.”
Sophie chugged the rest of her protein drink then went to brush her teeth. Again. But there was no way she was going to spend the morning with that disgusting taste in her mouth. She grabbed her purse and followed Kristine outside.
“Where’s the class?” she asked.
“Down by the water.”
“It’s outside? Why?”
“Because it’s beautiful.”
“We live in the Pacific Northwest where it’s cold and rainy eighty percent of the time. Are you telling me you do Tai Chi outside in the cold and rain?”