Blind Tiger - Sandra Brown Page 0,70

Your deliveries will have to be made after closing. I’ll have to pay them extra.”

After-hours deliveries were what she’d hoped for, but she’d pursed her lips as though she hadn’t considered this stumbling block. “Perhaps just one could work overtime. Perhaps they could swap off.”

“They’re twins. Inseparable, and they work as a unit. One drives their truck and waits, while the other runs the delivery to the customer’s door. It’s a very efficient system. With the two of them working together, it takes only half as long to make the deliveries. Because they’re paid by the hour, it’s actually more economic to have both on the payroll.”

She’d appeared impressed by his business savvy, but crestfallen by how it affected their deal. “I see. Well, I’ll give you two percent more to cover that expense. For a total of twelve.”

“Fifteen.”

“Thirteen.”

“Fifteen.”

She’d been prepared to give him twenty. Her cash crop wasn’t pies. It was whiskey. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Logan. I’ll agree to fifteen percent.”

He beamed.

Then she’d jerked the rug out from under him. “But we haven’t yet shaken on it. There is a matter that concerns me, because I can’t take any chances with my reputation as a businesswoman. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course. What’s the nature of your concern?”

“Your deliverymen. My father-in-law told me they used to work in a pool parlor. Are they presentable? Do they have integrity? Can I trust them?”

“What Mr. Plummer told you is correct. They went through a wild phase, as young men are wont to do, but they’ve been tempered by my influence and that of Mrs. Logan. I’ve received no complaints from customers about their comportment. I wouldn’t have them in the store if I thought they were dishonest. I’ll summon them right now so you can meet them.”

“No, if they know employment is riding on the introduction, they’ll be on their best behavior, won’t they? I’d rather see them in action, when they don’t know it’s an audition. As I leave, I’ll pick out some grocery items and opt to have them delivered. If I approve their service and manner, you’ll get your fifteen percent.”

She’d straightened her backbone. “But if in my opinion they’re unsuitable for any reason, I’ll hire someone else and pay him out of my share, in which case, your percentage will be reduced to thirteen percent. That’s the deal, Mr. Logan. Nonnegotiable.”

“I’m agreeing because I’m confident that the O’Connor twins will work well for you.”

Laurel had been confident of that herself.

That evening, Davy O’Connor had showed up at her front door, a box of groceries balanced on his shoulder. He flashed her a winning smile. “Mrs. Plummer, good evening. Whenever you come into the store, the very sight of you makes my day. But in this gloaming light, you look a vision. Your—”

“Cut it out. Mr. Logan went for it. Have Mike drive around to the back. I baked a strawberry and rhubarb pie for our celebration.”

Her deal with the O’Connor brothers had been struck even before she had approached Logan.

Irv had been downright apoplectic when she’d advanced her idea to use the twins. “They’re crazy kids. Rambunctious and reckless. Wish I’d never told you about them.”

“Well you did. Please arrange a meeting.”

Davy and Mike would have been interchangeable except for Davy’s front tooth, which at some point in his boyhood had been chipped by a fist thrown by Mike. Both were handsome, flirtatious, and devilishly witty. Laurel liked them instantly.

Irv had informed them that the meeting was to discuss the peddling of moonshine. Already enticed, the two had been eager to hear what Laurel had in mind. Gathered around the kitchen table, she’d gotten down to business. “We need runners to move our product. You seem qualified.”

“Count us in,” Davy had said, winking at her. “We like excitement, right, brother?”

“We only went to work in that bloody store because we need to eat.”

Laurel had explained why they would need to continue working at the store. “At least for the time being. We need the cover of a legitimate business.”

The twins had looked at each other, obviously troubled. Speaking for both, Davy had said, “You know the Logans walk the straight and narrow.”

“I’ve told her that,” Irv had said.

“Mrs. Logan is trying to save our souls.” Mike had grinned when he said that. “Being Catholic is failing in that regard, according to her.”

“So when I approach Mr. Logan I should—”

“Act the prude, lady Laurel.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” When she’d told them her plans for expanding

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