Chasing Glory (11 page)

“Yes, very.”

“I had it done by
Jennings, Grant, and Bransom
. Russell Bransom himself oversaw the design. They did a fabulous piece on him in
Northwest Architectural Homes
last year. Did you see it?”

Tal scanned the room again, trying to see something that made it look lived in. “No, but you’re a lucky girl.”

Alyssia beamed. “Thanks. Well, I’m ready.”

Chapter Fifteen

He’d noticed Alyssia’s red high-heeled
sandals when he came in. “Your pretty sandals could get dirty when we tour the strawberry farm. I can wait if you want to change.”

She pressed her lips together in a funny, almost defensive look. “I don’t own any footwear suitable for trekking through dirt. These will have to do.”

Hadn’t he been clear they’d be touring a farm?
Add her apathy toward suppliers to their differing tastes in food, home furnishings, and clothes.

In the end, the fact that he was finally getting her to notice him won out. He really didn’t know enough about her, aside from the superficial, to drop the whole effort. An effort, were he honest with himself, that involved spending time with Glory.

He pushed that thought aside, but not before admitting his friend Nate might be right about Tal’s paint-by-number approach to marriage. He also conceded that Alyssia wasn’t used to tramping around farms. “I’ll deal with the supplier and bring you some samples. It’s peak strawberry season.”

Alyssia shrugged. “I’m not all that fond of fruit.”

The drive to Carnation was pleasant. Tal let Alyssia take the lead on their conversations even though he was bored by some of the topics. She talked mostly about upscale friends on Mercer Island. “The boating set,” she called them. They were going to have a string of parties this summer, starting on the Fourth of July. He thought at first she might be leading up to asking him to be her escort and he tried to sound enthusiastic. But it was hard when he had nothing in common with them except his acquaintance with Alyssia. Those conversations petered out, but not before Tal wondered if Alyssia wore her skimpy sandals getting on and off boats with her Mercer Island friends.

She became quiet for a while; checking her email, then sending a couple of texts. Tal was about to ask her how she had enjoyed the play at the
Rep
, when Alyssia turned and gave him a big smile.

“I’m curious. What led you to ask that question about our products being distributed in Antigua? You said something about a letter at last week’s meeting.”

Tal concentrated on a busy intersection. His first thought was to tell no one about the investigation until he could do some digging. On the other hand, he could make some points with Alyssia by spilling his plan; except the part about taking Glory. He’d about decided to when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and a lie fell out of his mouth.

“Can’t remember exactly what was in the letter. The woman was on a Caribbean cruise and said a sauce she ate on one of the islands; she thought it was Antigua, tasted like a Kingston product, only bitter. She must have been mistaken. Why?”

“Just curious. Maybe we should alert the authorities. You know. In case we really do have a problem. What do you think?”

Why did it sound like she was digging for information?
“I think Jeff was right,” Tal said. “It was a fluke.”

“So, you’re not pressing for Kingston to act?”

The urge to take her into his confidence surfaced again. If he and they
did
end up together she wouldn’t trust him, knowing his plans to go to Antigua had already been in place at this point. Even if he rescued the company’s reputation.

They pulled into the farm’s drive and Tal decided to keep his own counsel. “I think we need more information.” Which wasn’t really a lie. He was going to Antigua to get some.

The day was getting muggy, so Tal parked under a tree near the house. The supplier came out to greet them as Tal got out of the car. He shook hands with Tal, then bent to peer into the open door. “Hello. I’m Harry Knox. You’re welcome to take the tour, but if that’s not your thing, my wife Linda would love some company in the kitchen.”

Tal saw Alyssia didn’t quite hide the look of boredom the invitation generated. She held up her smartphone. “Alyssia Hartford. Nice to meet you, but I brought some work. I’ll just wait here.”

Harry Knox nodded and backed up as Tal closed the car door. Based on her behavior, he wondered why Alyssia had bothered to come at all. He held the strong suspicion it was not due to his company.

He and Harry spent the next half hour immersed in testing the farm’s strawberry varieties, including Harry’s attempts at crossing compatible strains. Tal was impressed with the enthusiasm and hard work the man had put into his passion. At the end of their rounds, Harry invited him into the house to taste Linda Knox’s strawberry compote. Maybe Alyssia had changed her mind. Tal stopped by the car and opened the door. “We’re at the good part. Want to come in and taste some of Linda’s recipes?”

Alyssia shook her head, smiling. “I’ll pass. I have plans for dinner and don’t want to spoil my appetite. I’m sure the farmer’s wife did a credible job. Tell her thank you.”

Tal accepted her refusal, but felt his jaw tighten. He wished Alyssia would put down the smartphone and at least make an effort to interact with the Knoxes for a few minutes. He followed Harry into a big, spotless kitchen. Rows of gleaming jars of strawberry concoctions with neatly penned labels lined the counters. “My friend says thank you for the invitation,” he said. “But she can’t afford the calories today.”

Linda Knox grinned. “I understand. I’ll send a jar home with her.”She handed him a teaspoon and a freshly-opened jar. “This one’s for you.”

The label read
Ginger-Orange Strawberry Compote
. The taste was fresh and the texture very good. Tal made an on-the-spot decision. “This is great. Is it your recipe?”

Linda Knox nodded. “Thank you. I made some changes to one of my grandmother’s. As far as I know, it’s unique.”

He took another taste. “Would you consider allowing Kingston Limited to market this? We would pay you for the right to the recipe, of course. And a royalty.”

Tal’s hostess blushed. “That sounds wonderful, and a little overwhelming.”

“Just promise not to sell it to anyone else until I have our legal department draw up the paperwork. Looks like we hope to do business with both of you.”

Harry Knox gave his wife a bear hug, then faced Tal. “I can deliver my crop to your processing plant by Friday. Is that soon enough?”

“I’ll notify my plant manager. The contract with the pricing we discussed is in the car. I’ll bring it in.”

He turned to Linda Knox. “I’ll be back next week to talk about your other recipes.”

The couple looked dazed. “Great, and thank you,” Harry said.

Tal slipped another bite of the delicious compote into his mouth. “Thank you, too.”

Linda handed Tal the lid to his jar, plus another jar. “For your friend.”

Tal left with a spring in his step. He loved coming across finds like this. A clean, well-run operation with an owner willing to do business on a handshake; his kind of people.

Alyssia scrunched her nose and accepted the jar without enthusiasm.

“Be back after I drop off the contract,” he said.

When he returned to the car, Alyssia looked at him and frowned. “I’m sure they’re very nice, but their operation is too small to be of any use. It doesn’t make good marketing sense to engage them as a supplier when it’s not even worth our time to do the paperwork.”

Tal started the car. Alyssia was all about the big score. The next Welker account. He couldn’t blame her for that. It was her job. What he didn’t understand was why she accepted his invitation to come today. She was obviously underwhelmed.

“It’s not the size,” he said, trying to relax his jaw. “They’ll fit in great. Harry’s scrupulously honest and his fruit is high quality. Besides, that compote you’re holding is one of the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. I’ll be working with Linda Knox to use her recipe. That in itself will make Kingston a bundle.”

Alyssia’s look turned assessing. “Why didn’t you say so? I thought you were buying the whole golly-gee pitch.”

A sour taste filled Tal’s mouth, canceling the wonderful flavor of Linda’s compote. “They operate on a different scale is all,” he remarked as they headed back to Seattle, Alyssia oblivious to his disappointment.

• •

Glory slept fitfully. She had a ridiculous dream of Tal rolling in a field of strawberries with Alyssia in his arms. Glory had chased them, yelling “No. I’m the strawberry blonde, pick me!” But Tal and Alyssia laughed at her and rolled faster.

Too soon, her radio alarm clock clicked on, complete with an old torch song. She turned it off and pressed fingers to gritty eyelids. Her subconscious was nagging her but she didn’t want to hear it.

• •

Across the reception area, Catherine looked as tired as Glory felt. She’d been spending her evenings house hunting with Pryce. He’d hinted strongly her approval was necessary, as she would be sharing his life.

Glory tapped in Catherine’s number. “Hi, I’m going on break.”

Her friend yawned. “Plotting more strategy? I know I promised to help and I’m sorry, but well, stuff happens.”

“Stuff? Is that the polite society term for what you and Pryce are up to?” Glory chuckled. “Tal’s doing fine. Alyssia went with him yesterday to scope out a possible new strawberry supplier in Carnation. He’s filling me in on the juicy details.”

“No kidding,” Catherine said. “So that’s where she went. CTB sailed out of here saying she was ‘on business’ the rest of the day. That’s not her usual
modus operandi
, and she didn’t mention Tal. Wonder what he has on her?”

Glory leapt to Tal’s defense. “I was suspicious, too. But maybe our behind-the-scenes maneuvering has paid off. Maybe Alyssia has seen Tal for the really great guy he is.”

“Down, girl. I think he’s very nice, too. I just don’t believe that cold fish I’ve worked for the last three years has developed a soft spot for nice guys.” Catherine paused. “Unless money is involved. Has Tal come into any large sums recently?”

Laughter escaped before Glory could stop it. “Spoken like a woman with intimate knowledge. When did you last update the ‘A’ list?”

“My list making days are over,” Catherine huffed. “But at least I was up front about it. I never led anyone on.”

“True,” Glory said. “Gotta go. I’m late for the campaign briefing.”

“Let me know what happened. This is getting good.”

Glory stepped off the elevator as Tal and Rudy finished a conversation in front of Tal’s office. The small man saw her and quickly jumped into a door farther down the hall.

Tal’s eyes lit with humor when she walked up. “You’re a real heroine, you know.”

She blinked. He had the sexiest mouth when he smiled. “Um, why do you say that?”

Tal pointed at the door Rudy had gone through. “That’s the supply closet.” His lips quivered. “And no fewer than three women came up to me yesterday asking what or who had happened to Rudy. One of them told me all the women on this level were grateful.”

She felt her face heat. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he said. “Come on in. The hot water for our tea is ready.”

Glory followed him, thoroughly pleased to be treated like a friend instead of an employee. She would be sad when her tête-à-têtes with Tal ended.

He stopped on his side of the desk and poured hot water over the teabags in their cups. He wore new khaki slacks and a pale blue dress shirt, open at the collar.

“Attending the staff meeting in person again today?” she asked.

He glanced at his clothes. “Shows, huh?”

“You look great, but I like the other you just as much,” she added.

His smile faded around the edges. “That’s my goal with Alyssia.”

Glory started to protest. To say Alyssia would only be pleased by some rich, shallow, egotistical, stuffed-shirt. Instead she fiddled with her teabag and reminded herself to keep to business. “Thank you. Fill me in on yesterday?”

Tal frowned. “You were right about her not being the type who likes to go for a walk in the country.”

Glory wracked her brain for a positive side to that. “Did you get a chance to learn more about what she likes during the drive?”

He shrugged, the light fading in his eyes. “Short of buying a boat and moving to Mercer Island, there wasn’t much.” He sat and gave a wry grin. “My spreadsheet took a beating. Guess my plans did, too.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she said, wondering what CTB had done or said; probably just acted like herself. “But hey. It’s only been three weeks. Give it time.”

One more week and our agreement will be over, she thought. She’d miss her time with Tal, but heck, he didn’t even choose her in her own dreams.

Glory glanced at her watch. “I should get back.”

Tal shifted forward in his chair. “Did you get the flight schedule I emailed?”

“Yes,” Glory said, standing. “I’ll thank you now for offering to pick me up at four am. Don’t expect much conversation, though. I’m a morning person, but that’s brutal. Luckily, I can fall asleep practically anywhere. I’ll catch up on the plane.”

• •

Tal put his palms flat on the shower wall, letting the steamy water hit his back full force. He felt an absurd elation about this trip, instead of the serious mission it was. He knew the cause of his excitement stemmed from his travel partner.

She was terrific. A good sport, pretty, smart and he intended to give her a bonus when this whole thing was over. He wanted it to be something nice. Not money. Maybe a long weekend to that new boutique hotel he’d heard about in Vancouver. He chuckled. She’d probably prefer a gift card to a big home improvement store. He chuckled again. He might give her both.

• •

Hers was the only house on the block with lights on. Glory answered the door all big-eyed and sleep softened. She held a large mug. “Come in while I rinse my cup.”

“Coffee?” he asked hopefully.

“Uncoffee,” she said, peering into the cup. “It’s a sorry thing when a person has to trick her body with the promise of caffeine, then doesn’t deliver. But I won’t be able to sleep on the plane, otherwise. Want some?”

Tal shook his head as she turned and walked toward the kitchen. He raised his voice over the running water. “Do I have to chase you around the block before we load up?”

“I’m afraid that would be like herding cats at this point in my consciousness,” she said, emerging from the kitchen. “I’ll just stagger out to the car.”