First Course, page 3
“The client is a bit of a…”
“Diva?” Devon guessed.
Carrie looked at Devon with surprise. “Do you know her?”
“Leigh Matthews? We’ve met,” Devon replied evenly.
“Oh, that doesn’t sound good. Is that going to cost me more?” Carrie joked.
Devon smiled at the woman standing before her. Carrie Maynard was engaging and quite obviously intelligent, not to mention she possessed a quick wit. Any one of those traits on its own was an asset, in combination? Carrie Maynard entered the realm of interesting to Devon Brine. “We can negotiate,” Devon replied a bit more flirtatiously than she intended. Carrie raised an eyebrow.
“I’m da goteeator,” CJ chimed proudly, directing both women’s attention in her direction.
Devon held back a chuckle. “I’m probably in big trouble then,” Devon said seriously.
Carrie rolled her eyes. “Negotiator, monkey,” she gently corrected CJ “And, yes you are.”
Devon looked at Carrie. “Starting her young, I see.”
CJ looked up at Devon. “Dat’s how Jedis stawrt,” she told Devon. Carrie covered her face with her hands.
Devon couldn’t have hidden her amused grin had she tried, and she had no desire to try. “I see. Your mom here is Master Yoda then?”
Carrie’s hands left her eyes swiftly. “Uh, no. She’s not…”
“Auntie loves Yoda,” CJ offered.
Devon looked at Carrie.
“She’s my Goddaughter,” Carrie explained.
Devon nodded and shifted gears. “Would Yoda and the young Padawan here like something to eat? We can have a seat and review the proposal,” she suggested.
“Pizza?” CJ asked.
Carrie rolled her eyes again. “It’s sort of an obsession lately. Pizza, I mean.”
“Ah. Well, I’m not sure I can rustle up any pizza,” Devon said apologetically.
Carrie smiled. She wanted to accept the offer. Had she not promised CJ that they would watch the Christmas tree in town go up, she would have. “I wish we could,” she answered honestly. “We have a lunch date downtown,” Carrie said. Devon nodded. Carrie wasn’t certain, but she thought she detected a hint of disappointment in Devon’s eyes. “A date with pizza and the Christmas tree,” she clarified. Devon nodded her understanding. “I could stop back and sign the contract afterward,” she suggested.
“Sure,” Devon answered.
“If you weren’t running a restaurant, I’d invite you to negotiate with Anakin here over pizza,” Carrie said. Devon tipped her head and smiled. “Oh, my God!” Carrie mentally slapped herself. “What the hell are you doing, Maynard? Did you just ask this woman to lunch? You’ve completely lost your mind.”
Devon bit the inside of her lip gently to keep from laughing. Carrie had clearly surprised herself with the overture. “Actually,” Devon found it impossible to resist, “I am not running a restaurant today. I was just waiting for you before taking off for the day. Even owners and chefs are allowed a day off now and again,” she winked. “I can even make a mean pizza.”
“Pizza’s not mean,” CJ said. “Pizza is good!”
“I can see this is going to be a difficult agreement to reach,” Devon addressed Carrie.
“She is the best,” Carrie winked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured…”
“Into pizza with Jedi Knights?” Devon quipped. Carrie smirked. “I just hope you don’t use that mind control thing to lower my prices.”
Carrie found herself contemplating a few colorful comebacks. She thought better of them all. It seemed clear that Devon was flirting. That was something Carrie frowned upon in business. Then again, it didn’t happen to her all that frequently in her work. Darlene normally commanded that stage. She’d even pushed Carrie off that stage a handful of times. Carrie liked Devon Brine. While she hated to admit it, she liked Devon Brine’s attention. A little flirting was harmless. Maybe this trip would result in more than solving a minor crisis or a new business ally. Maybe, just maybe, Carrie would leave this experience with a friend.
“Are you sure it’s not putting you out?” Carrie asked. “If it were just me, I’d stay and haggle. I did promise…”
Devon smiled. “Where exactly does one meet Jedi for pizza?” she asked.
“Pagoli’s,” Carrie replied.
“You’d better move if you want to watch them try to raise that tree,” Devon said. “I’ll get the contract together and pop down in a bit,” she said. Carrie looked a tad disappointed. That delighted Devon. Devon was, by her own admission, an incurable flirt. It had been a while since her flirting had taken an earnest turn. She liked to conjure a blush, and Devon enjoyed a challenge. Something about Carrie Maynard seemed to be telling her to slow down a little. Carrie appeared to be a genuinely kind person. Occasionally, flirting led Devon to an unexpected result—friendship. She smiled at Carrie. “We can factor my slice of pizza into the contract,” Devon quipped. “See you in a bit.”
Carrie’s mouth hung slightly open as she watched Devon’s figure retreat toward the kitchen. “Is da lady leaving?”
Carrie shook her head. “No, we are.”
“She’s funny,” CJ said as Carrie led her from the restaurant.
“You think so?”
“Yep. Pizza’s not mean,” CJ giggled.
Carrie chuckled. “This could be very interesting,” she thought.
CHAPTER THREE
“What is up with you?” Darlene asked Carrie.
“What do you mean?”
Darlene sipped her wine thoughtfully. She had arrived at Carrie’s house just after five o’clock and found CJ and Carrie engaged in a lively conversation about negotiation tactics while Carrie worked on her signature lasagna. Darlene enjoyed watching her daughter with her best friend. Carrie had always been a natural when it came to connecting to people, that included children. She seemed to have an uncanny knack for putting people at ease. Darlene envied that. CJ had been prattling on about how she had landed a “big deal” with Hash Slinger.
“Hash Slinger?” Darlene asked.
Carrie smiled. “Devon.”
“Who?” Darlene asked.
“The owner of the restaurant for your soiree.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I had to meet with her today to plan this crazy affair you dreamed up,” Carrie reminded her friend.
“And, what? She owns a diner?” Darlene asked.
“No,” Carrie threw a kitchen towel at her best friend. “She’s a chef.”
“Hash Slinger!” CJ exclaimed with delight. Darlene lifted a brow at Carrie.
“Long story,” Carrie said.
“I’ve got all night,” Darlene reminded her. “Why is my daughter calling our chef a hash slinger?”
CJ looked at her mother indignantly, as if Darlene should understand without needing any explanation. CJ sighed dramatically. “Auntie is Yoda. I’m da Padawan. Dev is da Hash Slinger,” she said with a shake of her head. She sighed again and marched out of the room. Carrie covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“On second thought, I’m not sure I want to know what you two are talking about,” Darlene said. “Where’s the wine?”
“Where it always is,” Carrie replied.
“Carrie,” Darlene began cautiously.
“Yeah?” Carrie replied. She had stretched out on her sofa comfortably and closed her eyes.
“What is the deal with this woman?”
“What woman?”
“This hash slinger person.”
Carrie opened one eye and smiled. “Devon?”
“Yeah. Her.”
“I told you, she owns the restaurant.”
“I thought she was the chef,” Darlene interjected.
“She is. She also owns it with her best friend, who happens to be a friend of your ex-husband. By the way, you really owe him this time.”
“I already called and apologized.”
“Mm-hum.”
“So? Explain to me how your meeting with the owner of this restaurant resulted in hero worship for my daughter?”
Carrie opened her eyes. “Hero worship? She had a good time is all,” Carrie said. “We all did.”
“I still do not get it.”
“What don’t you get, Dar? That someone might actually find me interesting?”
“What are you talking about?”
Carrie shook her head. If the shoe had been on the proverbial other foot, this discussion would have a drastically different tone. And, the shoe was almost always on the other foot. It was common place for business meetings to turn decidedly social in nature when Darlene was at their helm. Carrie tended to keep her business dealings and personal relationships separate. That was a choice she seldom deviated from. Carrie had learned in painful ways that mixing business with pleasure could compromise a person without warning. And so, Carrie was cautious. Devon Brine was not a business client. She happened to own a restaurant that happened to be able to accommodate one of Darlene’s insane requests; a request that Carrie was certain was indicative of mixing business with pleasure.
“Carrie? What is that supposed to mean?” Darlene asked.
“I like Devon. I don’t understand what you don’t ‘get’ about that. You certainly seem to like Leigh Matthews.”
“What the hell? Leigh is a potential client.”
“Uh-huh.”
Darlene took a swig from her wine glass. “So? Is this Devon person your type?”
“My type?”
“Yes.”
“Are you asking me if Devon is a lesbian or if Devon is the type of woman I might find attractive?”
“Both. Either.”
“I don’t know and yes.”
Carrie’s candor shocked Darlene. “Really?”
“Honestly, Dar, what do you think? I am ready for the retirement home at thirty-six?”
“She must be quite something.”
“I told you; I like Devon. That’s all.”
“If you say so. Are you going to see her again?”
“I would imagine it would be difficult not to given that she is the one helping me pull off your latest hare-brained plan.”
Darlene narrowed her gaze at Carrie. “If we land this account, we will be well on our way.”
“To?” Carrie asked.
“What?”
“Well on our way to what?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Landing Matthews and Mack isn’t just a coup for our pocketbook. This is what we have always talked about. They are looking at two hotels in the next year alone. A successful partnership with them would open doors,” Darlene said.
Carrie nodded. Darlene was right. They had talked for years about building their company into a force to be reckoned with. Carrie was content with the way things were at present. She made a healthy living that afforded her the ability to travel, to have purchased a home that she loved, and to maintain some amount of balance in her life. Carrie thrived on balance. When she worked, she worked harder than anyone she knew. When she needed to step away, she did. Success could be measured in a myriad of ways. Darlene equated success to becoming wealthy, preferably while holding the spotlight. For Carrie, success equated to balance.
“Are you telling me you don’t want to see the company grow?” Darlene asked.
“Of course not,” Carrie replied. “I just worry that you will lose sight of what matters most.”
Darlene sighed. “I know I fucked up with CJ I do feel horrible.”
“I know you do,” Carrie admitted. Darlene loved CJ Carrie didn’t doubt that.
“I’m sorry, Carebear.”
“You haven’t called me that in ages,” Carrie observed.
“You are. You are like a little Carebear.”
“You do realize that is not the most flattering nickname you could give me.”
“Are you kidding? You would prefer to be called a troll?”
“What are you talking about?” Carrie asked.
“Yoda?”
“Yoda is not a troll. How can you be so remedial when we have been friends for eighteen years? Yoda is a Jedi—a wise teacher.”
“A short, little green dude with wrinkly skin—troll.”
Carrie laughed. “You are a pain in the ass.”
“But, you still love me.”
“God only knows why.”
Darlene kissed Carrie’s cheek. “Because I am charming,” she said. “More wine?”
Carrie passed Darlene her glass. She let her head fall back against the couch and closed her eyes. She did love Darlene. Darlene could piss her off unlike anyone in the world, but Darlene could also make her laugh until she cried. And, when push came to shove, even with all her obsession and dramatics, Darlene loved Carrie. She’d stood beside Carrie through every pivotal moment in both their adult lives. Carrie loved her. Most people would have struggled to remain best friends with Darlene Willis. But, then again, you only got one best friend. Darlene was Carrie’s. For all the mess it sometimes caused, Carrie wouldn’t change it.
Darlene stepped back into Carrie’s living room and regarded her friend silently for a moment. Carrie had bailed her out—again. Carrie had given Darlene little grief in the end. That was not Carrie’s style. Carrie seldom went on the offensive, and she was even less likely to get defensive. She had never needed to be center stage. Carrie had cheered Darlene’s accomplishments. She’d extricated Darlene from several precarious situations in college. She had sat with Darlene when Darlene found out she was pregnant during their senior year of college. Carrie had been the person to hold Darlene’s hand when she went to the clinic on a snowy November morning to end that pregnancy. Carrie had rocked her while she cried the rest of that day. Carrie had stood at her side when Darlene married Tom, and she had stayed with Darlene for a week after CJ’s birth. Darlene often wondered how she had gotten so lucky to have Carrie Maynard in her life. She seldom made a point to tell Carrie that. Darlene sighed, set the two wine glasses in her hands on a table, and took her place back on the couch. Like she had many nights over the years, she grabbed a blanket, pulled it up over her and Carrie, and let her head fall onto Carrie’s shoulder.
“I love you, you know?”
Carrie smiled, never opening her eyes. “I know. You are still an asshole, though.”
“Your asshole.”
“There is that,” Carrie agreed.
“He is a troll, you know.”
Carrie laughed. “Be careful with Leigh Matthews,” she said.
“Worried I’ll break her heart?”
“No,” Carrie said. “Worried about yours.”
“I’m not in love with Leigh.”
“I know that.”
“It’s business,” Darlene said. “Carebear?”
“Hum?”
“I meant what I said.”
“I know you don’t love Leigh.”
Darlene nodded against Carrie. “Not that, you doofus. That I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Think CJ will forgive me?”
“Already has.”
“Think Tom will?”
Carrie sighed.
“Carrie?”
“He loves you. He’ll forgive you.”
“You?”
“I will if you shut up and stop asking me,” Carrie replied.
Darlene giggled. “Is she cute?”
“Who?”
“The slinger lady.”
“Who?”
“The hash woman.”
Carrie chuckled.
“Is she?” Darlene asked again.
“Very.”
Darlene heard Carrie yawn, and she closed her eyes. “Oh, Carrie, what you don’t tell me, tells me everything.”
***
“How did it go?” Bruce asked his friend.
“What?” Devon asked.
“Did you meet Tommy’s friend?”
Devon smiled. “Carrie is Tom Willis’s friend?”
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you that?”
“No.”
Bruce shrugged. “Well, I guess she and Tommy’s ex-wife own the company.”
Devon seemed to consider that information carefully.
“Dev?”
“Nothing,” Devon shook off her thoughts.
Devon and Bruce had known Tom Willis for more than twenty years. Tom’s younger sister, Julie had been one of their close friends throughout school. Tom was six years older than Devon and Bruce. He’d often provided them taxi service in their youth. Devon had always liked Tom. He had doted on his younger sister and had always treated Julie’s friends as though they were his siblings too. Carrie hadn’t said much about her best friend. Devon was adept at reading between the lines. She didn’t need specifics. She gathered that Darlene could challenge Carrie’s patience at times. She had noted the way Carrie bristled when CJ had offered that her mother was supposed to be with her.
“Nothing? Your wheels were just spinning.”
“Nothing, really. I was just thinking how sweet Tom always was.”
“You know, he lives in his parents’ old house,” Bruce offered.
“Shut up! Really?”
“Yep. He said that he’s been meaning to stop down and see us. He’s just been crazy busy; I guess—big time lawyer and all.”
“Yeah, and single dad,” Devon commented.
“Huh?”
“Can’t be easy being a single parent,” Devon said.
“Lost me, Dev.”
Devon chuckled. “I had lunch with his daughter on Saturday.”
“Isn’t his kid like a baby?”
“CJ is four,” Devon said and smiled.
“I’m confused.”
“And, that’s new information?”
Bruce huffed. “How did you end up meeting Tommy’s kid?”
“Carrie was babysitting for the weekend.”
“Uh-huh…”
“She had CJ with her when she stopped in on Saturday,” Devon explained. Bruce waited. “We ended up going over the contract at Pagoli’s.”
“I am missing something,” Bruce commented.
“You’re missing a lot of things,” Devon quipped.
