Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,5
not going to be pleased.”
Carson taps a finger on his lips. “Maybe don’t tell him?”
“Trust me, I’ll keep it from him as long as I can, but I’m surprised he doesn’t already know. The man has his fingers in everything. We’ll get them to sell eventually, just not as cheaply as I had hoped. Maybe I can convince them otherwise. We’re catering an event for one of Crawford’s charities tonight.” And I purchase all my kitchen equipment from them, have for years. They wouldn’t want to lose me as a customer. I have to have some way to get them to see reason. Money matters more than friendship. I’m not worried. Much. Oliver would probably have some backhanded way of getting it done, but I want to prove my worth as his partner in this venture. He has too much power and control over this whole thing as it is, and it makes me uneasy.
Carson shrugs, his mustache twitching.
“Any other ideas on how to get her to move?”
He opens his laptop. “Oh, I don’t know. Scare her into acquiescence like you do everyone else.”
I press my lips together. “You make me laugh.”
Carson shakes his head at me. “Right. All those times we’ve laughed together. It’s weird.” He rubs his chin. “It’s like it happens so often that I can’t even remember it.”
I wave him off. “I’m laughing on the inside. Anyway, I would try to scare her into doing my bidding if I could actually see her. Every time I go over there, she’s not there. Her assistant actually told me she was hiding the last two times.”
“Can you blame her? I’d avoid you too if you didn’t know where I live and didn’t pay me so well to put up with you.”
I ignore his trash talking. “She’s hard to catch. She has a visual advantage. She can see me coming and I can’t see inside her truck. I don’t have time to stalk her when she comes and goes. Maybe if I could run into her somewhere else, though, when she doesn’t expect it.”
Carson nods. “I’ve been doing some digging. I’ve got an idea, but you might not like it.”
I sigh. I hate having to expend this energy on something that should have been resolved a month ago. Why did she have to park that monstrosity right next to my restaurant? “What is it?”
“She routinely goes to a yoga class. Every Thursday at six, in Manhattan. Lower East Side.”
“Fine.” I’ve done yoga. I can handle it if it means I can confront the cake lady. “Put all the information in my calendar and I’ll be there.”
A grin spreads across his face. He’s almost too happy, and I want to know why, but I don’t want to get roped into some inane conversation either. No time.
The office phone rings.
Carson whips around, darting back to his desk to answer it. Three seconds later, he calls out, “I’ve got Oliver.”
I pick up the phone. “Oliver.”
“Guy. Are we any closer to opening Savor?”
Straight to the point, as usual. Oliver isn’t one for small talk.
“You know, even I can’t change the laws of physics or movement of paper through the New York City Department of Consumer Affairs.”
Oliver expels a breath of frustration down the line, the tension in the sound practically scalding my ear. “Why not? Do you need more money?”
I take a moment to gather my thoughts and roiling emotions. I’d really thought I could handle Oliver. This venture, on the surface, was practically a dream come to life. Complete creative control, more time with my sisters, and monetary backing from a silent partner to see it all off the ground. Except my partner can’t handle the whole part where I have any kind of control, likes to remind me of my obligation to him, and in general is not as silent as I had hoped.
“It’s not about the money. It’s just a matter of time,” I say.
“You know how I feel about waiting. All of these set-backs are a bad sign. I agreed to do this because you told me it could be finished before the holidays.”
“I said it was possible, not inevitable. The delay won’t be more than a week or two. And we’ve already opened Decadence. We’re booked out solid for months. The delay is working to our advantage, giving us time to build buzz and make the whole idea even more appealing.”
There’s a deep pause. The original idea was mine. A whole block dedicated to haute cuisine, in the