Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
The entire interaction is unrushed and has a friendly tone. It’s far from a routine business transaction. As Greer hands the small pink bag with the candies to the woman, they wish each other well. That ends with a hug when Greer rounds the checkout counter.
There is a lot more to Sweet Indulgence than I realized. I’m not here to weigh the merits of what I just witnessed against the increased profit I know I would enjoy if Carden acquired this company.
I’m here to see if the possibility of a deal even exists at this point.
More importantly, I’m here to see Greer, because now that I know who she really is, I want to get to know her more.
Just as that customer exits the store, another two enter.
I curse under my breath, but if it takes all day to get a word or two with Greer, I’ll wait.
I glance her way to see her walking toward me. She stops just short of where I am.
“I told you I’m busy.” She scratches the side of her neck. “You should go.”
“When should I come back?”
“Never.” She smiles.
I can’t help but smile, too. “What time are you done work?”
“Never,” she repeats.
I amend my question. “Will there be a time later today when we can talk? It doesn’t have to be here. I can buy you dinner so we can talk uninterrupted.”
“I have dinner plans,” she says in a rush.
Frustrated, but determined, I suggest an alternative. “What about dinner tomorrow?”
“I’m busy for dinner every night.”
“This week?” I question.
“Forever,” she answers. “I can meet you for a drink tonight after eight. It needs to be quick and close to here.”
I’m familiar enough with the neighborhood that I know there’s a Beaumont Hotel two blocks from here. “There’s a bar in the lobby of the Beaumont…”
“Hotel?” she finishes my sentence. “Are you seriously suggesting we meet at a bar in a hotel?”
“Yes.” I rub my chin. “I’m suggesting we meet at the hotel bar for a quick drink before I go my way and you go yours.”
It’s the last thing I want, but it’s obvious she wants little to do with me, so I’ll respect that boundary.
“There’s a bar around the corner.” She jerks her thumb to the right. “I’ve never stepped foot in it, but Krista has and recommended it. You can’t miss it. There’s a dragon sculpture near the entrance.”
“I’ll be there.” I tuck a hand in the front pocket of my pants. “At eight, you said?”
“After eight,” she clarifies. “Let’s make it at nine. I can give you thirty minutes then.”
I’ll take it, so I nod. “I’ll see you then, Greer.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Greer
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t put any effort into how I look tonight. I showered when I got home from work before putting on a pair of white jeans and a simple short-sleeved light blue sweater. The flats on my feet are comfortable enough for me to walk blocks in. I’ll do that after I meet with Holden. I already know I’ll need to decompress before I head back to the Upper East Side where I live.
It’s humid enough outside that I opted to pull my hair into a tight, high ponytail. It tends to curl with the humidity, and right now, it feels like it’s one of the few things I can control in my life.
I swing open the door to the bar, smiling when I see the dragon statue next to it. Since the awning above the door clearly states the bar is called Regrets, I laugh aloud. Hopefully, I won’t have too many of those when I leave in thirty minutes.
I’m barely inside when I spot the man I’m meeting. He’s standing next to a long wooden bar with a glass tumbler in one hand. It has a trace amount of amber liquid in it, which he swallows in a single gulp.
He places the empty glass on the bar, says something to the bartender, and then approaches me.
The jeans and gray T-shirt he’s wearing are a far cry from the tailored suit he had on earlier. He looks more like Joe Campbell now, but Joe was never real. He was a relaxed version of Holden Sheppard. Or maybe he’s the more calculated and cunning version. I still don’t know if he recognized me as the co-owner of Sweet Indulgence when we met in East Hampton.
My personal information was supposed to stay between Mrs. Frye and me. It’s not outside the realm of possibilities that she accidentally let my name slip to him, and he saw an opportunity to swoop in and seduce my company away from me.
I shake off that thought because, in a big picture way, Sweet Indulgence is a small company compared to most of the recent acquisitions of Carden Confectionaries. I know that because I spent part of my afternoon researching the company Holden owns.