Beauty and the Blackmailer - Amorette Anderson Page 0,7

her chin to the folder. “Making progress with your bio plastic?”

“Not just progress,” he said, leaning in a little bit. “Bridge, I got it. I got it!” His eyes shined brighter now. He was trembling a little bit with excitement. Bridget felt her hand start to tremble, too. She stopped wiping down the counter. Her eyes widened. “Dad, for real?” she asked. “That’s fantastic! You figured out the formula?”

“It was right in front of me the whole time! I was searching for a molecule close to polydiketoenamine, but what I really needed was—” he stopped short. “Well—I really shouldn’t talk about it here like this. It’s a proprietary blend now, and I’ve written the exact steps down in here.” He held up the manilla folder.

“I’ve already had a call back from that private space exploration company I told you about, GenSpace, and they expressed interest in buying the patent!”

“Dad, congratulations!” Bridget hurried over to the hinged door at the end of the counter.

For as long as she could remember, her father had been working in his lab, forever “this close” to coming up with a variety of plastic that was lightweight, good for the environment, and extremely durable. He maintained that the new material would open up new frontiers in technology, especially related to what space crews could bring with them on rocket ships. He was adamant that space travel could be privatized, and that space exploration could lead to solutions for the world's environmental problems.

She’d lost hope that he would ever succeed in his endeavor, seeing as he wasn’t getting any younger. His obsession with his quest had made it very hard for him to take on other projects, though he was a talented inventor. For as long as she could remember, her father had lived on a shoestring budget.

“GenSpace already offered me ten million for it,” Danny said happily, as he accepted Bridget’s hug.

Bridged felt tears come to her eyes. She squeezed her father harder. “I am so happy for you,” she said. She let go, for fear of crushing him with her enthusiasm. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight to celebrate! The café closes down by six, and the post-close cleaning duties usually only take a half an hour. I could make us a 6:30 reservation over at Big Bobby’s Burgers.”

“That sounds perfect,” Danny said. “I do need to eat. It’s been a while... I’ll just browse the books while you finish up. I need to learn all that I can about selling proprietary information before I start meeting with these potential buyers.”

Bridget knew how her father was when he was in his lab—it was rare for him to pause his important work for a mere earthly bite of food or sip of liquid. Once he’d even collapsed, only to wake up a few minutes later with a bump on his head and a willingness to finally break for food.

“Let me bring you one of those juices you like,” Bridget said. “You can have it here in the café. Bring over the books you want to read. I’ll put your juice right on that table.” She pointed to a table in the little café area.

Danny nodded, and bustled off to find his books. Bridget fetched the tropical juice her dad liked and set it out on the table. Then she returned to her work behind the counter.

Sean was restocking the espresso machines. The little brown beans clicked and clacked as they hit the plastic storage bin attached to the machine. “I couldn’t help but overhear your dad’s news,” he said. “He finally finished the invention he’s been working on?”

Adrienne joined them. “Move over,” she told Sean as she knelt down to restock a little fridge with milk for the next morning. “Yeah, I heard, too. That’s so exciting, Bridget! Your dad’s gonna be rich!”

“He really deserves this,” Bridget said. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips. “You guys know how obsessed he’s been with figuring out how to improve plastic...”

“For decades, right?” Adrienne asked as she shoved a gallon of whole milk onto the refrigerator shelf.

Bridget nodded. “Totally obsessed. I’m thrilled that his hard work is finally going to pay off. We’re going to go out to dinner to celebrate.”

Christine joined them just as Bridget finished talking. She had a milk crate full of bags of chips in her hands. “What are you celebrating?” she asked as she sidestepped over to the counter and started loading chips onto the display by the register.

“Her dad made a