Make Your Move - By Samantha Hunter Page 0,35

work out between you two, I want us to be friends,” Donna said hesitantly.

“That would be nice. But maybe we could be friends anyway. We’re both professional women, we both work here. We could have coffee sometime.”

Donna smiled. “That would be nice. But allow me one sisterly moment, Jodie, and let me ask you not to hurt him. Because you can. Dan has never really had his heart broken, but if anyone can do it, you can. Just keep that in mind.”

Jodie opened her mouth to say something—she had no idea what. Reassurances? Rebuttals?

But one of Donna’s group came back to get her, and she said polite goodbyes, leaving Jodie standing there alone again.

Well, that was an interesting moment.

Obviously, Donna still thought of her little brother as some overly sensitive science geek instead of the hot, experienced man he was. Dan could handle whatever came his way. Donna needed to give him more credit.

But a little voice was dancing around in Jodie’s head now—was she just making excuses because she knew what Donna said was right?

She was taking Dan out tonight, and had to get home and get ready. In truth, she was a little nervous about it. They were meeting a bunch of her friends at a club. It wasn’t something she’d planned on, but she had a night out with the girls, and they wanted to meet the new guy who had been taking up her time. Especially when they found out it was the infamous Dan Ellison she’d always talked about.

She moved along, the conversation with Donna playing in her head, grabbed a Coke from a vendor out on the pier and walked back toward her car when her cell phone rang in her purse.

“This is Jodie,” she answered like she always did on her business line, though she didn’t recognize the number.

“Jodie Patterson?”

“Yes?”

“You should be ashamed of yourself!”

The angry statement caught her off guard, and she froze, about to hit the button to unlock her car.

“Who is this?”

“Esmerelda James, from the South Side Retirement Center. I cannot believe that your bakery is selling cookies with drugs in them!” the indignant woman huffed. “Was this some kind of joke you thought would be funny to play on the seniors? Do you think old people don’t know about these things? We ordered six dozen of those cookies for our annual picnic, and now we have to try to find something else at the last minute!”

Jodie pinched the bridge of her nose, cursing Jason silently as she let the woman’s tirade wear down. She couldn’t last much longer…Jodie hoped.

“Mrs. James, I assure you, there is nothing harmful or inappropriate in those cookies.”

“That isn’t what the nice young man who called said.”

“What nice young man?” Jodie asked. Apparently Jason had called under the guise of a local health department official, reporting the “problem” with the bakery’s cookies, and the story in the news wouldn’t help much, either.

Jodie had gone to talk to the Sun-Times reporter, but he’d obviously thought Jason’s side of the story was sexier. While incorporating some of Jodie’s quotes, pitted against Jason’s Ph.D. and lofty scientific claims, she’d sounded ridiculous and defensive in the piece that was printed. Dan didn’t agree, but he wasn’t being objective.

“I wish you wouldn’t cancel your order,” she said, keeping a level, friendly tone. Mrs. James was not the one she was angry with. Jason must have sneaked a look at her order book while he was stealing the formula. Unfortunately, there still wasn’t anything she could do to prove any of it.

He’d claimed to have bought some of the cookies and then noted some “effects” he thought were disturbing. Running a few of his own diagnostics, he had claimed to find some sort of additive or drug in the frosting, and had reported it to the FDA. She hadn’t heard anything from the government, but Dan had assured her he had contacts, and would head Jason off at the pass.

Right now, she just wanted to keep from losing any business.

“I can do anything you like, and even change the frosting. There’s no need to use our Passionate Hearts formula. Just let me know what I can do to make this right for you.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Esmerelda equivocated.

Jodie swallowed hard. “Fifty percent off. And we’ll throw in another dozen if you keep your business with us.”

She would be selling the cookies under cost, but what else could she do?

“Okay. But if you can just give us the plain frosting, that would