Jacob's Ladder (10 page)

“But…” Mary Catherine gripped my arm. “Would you come? You know about these things, right?”

I started to worry a little. “I"ve never owned a bakery. I work in a restaurant.

It"s not like I"m an expert.”

“But you work in a successful restaurant, right? Have you worked in a bakery?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I"ve worked in several, here and abroad.” It was Ken who asked, “So you would know if the building would work?” St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder

53

“Well, that depends. Are you moving your entire operation? Do you lease this place? Will you be doing your baking here and using the other place as a retail space? Will—”

“
You
are coming with us,” Mary Catherine told me as she pulled off her work apron and went to wash her hands. She kept talking, and I thought it was mostly to herself. “You"re a godsend. You seem to have some idea of what you"re doing. I don"t have the faintest…” She trailed off, and I thought she was about to argue again.

“You need a business plan. Then you need to work on an idea of what your retail space should look like. I can probably help with that. What are your goals?

You can break them up into short-term, midrange, and long-term goals. But first and foremost you need to decide what you"re going to sell and where it"s going to come from.”

“What do you mean „what we"re going to sell"?” Mary Catherine asked. “We"re going to sell pies.”

“And ice cream.” Ken smiled. He met my eyes then, and I realized he was happy that he"d found an ally. This time when I held out my hand, he took it between both of his, warmly, as if he was genuinely glad to meet me. “I"m Ken Ashton, and I"m MC"s son-in-law. Sort of.”

54

Z. A. Maxfield

Chapter Eight

Wouldn"t you know, the damned appliance store sat right next to the firehouse.

As soon as I got out of Ken"s car, I spotted Cam out front wiping down one of the engines. He glistened in the weak afternoon light, his biceps bulged, and his huge legs bunched as he crouched to get a low spot. It was like porn, watching him.

I half expected him to tear his T-shirt down the middle and shake like a wet dog.

I think Ken must have seen something on my face, because he laughed at me, and Mary Catherine stopped in midstride to mutter, “Location, location, location.” The real-estate agent came up and saw what we were looking at. “Yes, indeed.

The view from the front window of this store is one of the finest anywhere along the California coastline. My name is Debra, and Ken tells me he"s pretty anxious to have you check this place out.”

Mary Catherine took her hand and shook it. “Well. It"s not really… I mean…” I put my hand on the small of her back and propelled her forward a little. “It"s just an exploration at this point, Mary Catherine. You aren"t making any promises.” Ken shot me a grateful look. “I worried that I wouldn"t be able to talk her into coming,” he said quietly after Mary Catherine and Debra had strode off together and were out of earshot.

“How long has she been in business?”

“Six months,” Ken answered. “But she"s only doing sales to restaurants right now, and I know she"d like to have a retail business. This place is big enough to house both facets of her business—retail and delivery.”

“Doesn"t she have a lease on the other place? Surely she has some time before it"s up?”

“No. She"s leasing month to month.” Ken grinned. “Actually she"s leasing from me. I bought the building where she is now with her in mind, but it"s a good investment even if she"s not there. I"m sure I can find a tenant eventually. It"s not a good spot for a retail bakery, though. She needs somewhere with the kind of foot traffic this place has. Originally I thought we"d find somewhere small and continue the baking operation where she is, but when this place came up, I saw the possibility immediately.”

As I watched, Cam shouted something to someone in the firehouse, and JT

came out. He waved and made his way over to where we were standing.

St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder

55

“Yasha, how are you doing?” He looked from me to Ken with mild curiosity on his face.

“Fine, I guess.”

JT continued to gaze at me, and I couldn"t stop myself from filling the silence.

“Mary Catherine is looking at this property for a possible bakery. This is Ken. Do you know each other?”

JT held his hand out. “Ken Ashton is St. Nacho"s secret weapon.” JT grinned like it was a private joke.

Ken nodded. “That"s what they call me.”

I suppose I must have looked blank, because JT filled me in. “The St. Nacho"s police and fire departments draw lots to see who gets him on their team for softball games.”

I guess this information surprised me, because Ken didn"t seem like he could be much of a ballplayer. Ken confided, “They want the bat. Heaven forbid I should have to run.”

“Last time you hit a game-winning double and beat the tag, Ashton. Well, partly because of my sucky glove, I guess.”

“The pitcher threw you a dirt ball.” Ken turned to me. “How do you know JT?”

“He had to rescue me when I got into town. I was sick.” I turned to JT. “What do you think? Can you see a bakery here?”

JT looked at the appliance store as if he was picturing it. “Well, MC"ll for sure have everyone from the fire station, plus St. Nacho"s finest, in there all the time.”

“That"s what I thought,” Ken said.

“She"s going to need a lot of capital,” I warned. “And the statistics for restaurants are disheartening in the best of times.”

“But she"s got a great product,” Ken reminded me. “It"s more specialized than a restaurant really. And she"s quite the entrepreneur. Hardworking. Determined.

Creative.”

“She inspires loyalty,” I thought aloud. I felt JT"s gaze on me and looked up.

“What?” He glanced away.

“Didn"t MC tell me you lost your job?” Ken asked.

“Well, no. I mean, I don"t know yet whether my job will still be there when I head home.”

“If you"re looking for work, I think we could find you something. Mary Catherine will need to come up with a business plan. She"ll need a bank loan. It won"t be a simple thing to borrow money, given the economic climate.”

“How are her numbers now?” I asked. “Is she mostly in the black? Covering the cost of the equipment and the lease, the delivery expenses? Taxes and insurance?

Employee benefits?”

56

Z. A. Maxfield

Ken considered this. “Yes. Although I admit she gets free labor from me and Jordan—a lot of it. Some other folks in town help out when she needs them.”

“So it"s a true family business?”

“Yeah.” Ken seemed happy with the arrangement. I could see that. “We"re fully committed to seeing Mary Catherine"s business flourish.”

“Maybe we can figure out a way to help her expand her menu so that she has something no one else in town does.”

Ken seemed to have worked everything out in his mind already, and he was smiling. “Maybe what she needs is a real pastry chef?”

“O-oh, well…” I stammered. “No. Not for the kinds of pies she makes.” Ken continued grinning. “You said yourself she should have something no one else has. I think a real pastry chef is exactly the kind of thing you were talking about. As far as I know, there isn"t one in St. Nacho"s. There are two bakeries in town, but neither is what I would consider… How good are you?” I felt the heat creep up my face. What a question. If I answered honestly, it would sound… “I"m good,” I said simply. I was good. Very, very good, although I hadn"t had a chance to really shine in quite some time.

“Think about it,” Ken said simply.

“I will,” I assured him.

JT didn"t seem as pleased as Ken was, and I wondered why. He clapped me on the back and slid his hand to rest on my shoulder, then pulled me off to the side so we could speak privately.

“That means you might stay in St. Nacho"s awhile?”

“Maybe.” I didn"t have much more to say, but he seemed to be waiting, moving from foot to foot, so I finally asked, “What?”

“Can I talk to you? Buy you a cup of coffee?”

I glanced to where Ken stood looking at a binder that Debra was showing him, and said, “When I"m finished here, I"m free.”

“Come by the firehouse. I"m off shift but I stopped by to mooch lunch. I"ll be in charge of washing dishes, and then we can take a walk.”

“Sure,” I told him.

As JT was leaving, a police cruiser drove up and parked at the curb near where we stood and a uniformed officer got out. Ken and Mary Catherine came over, and we all stood waiting while he made his way toward us. When he got close enough, I read his name:
A. Callahan
.

“Andy.” Mary Catherine hugged him, and Ken offered his hand. “Meet Yasha.

He"s helping me out at Miss Independence for a bit.” Andy didn"t look like he was there for a social visit. “I"m glad I saw you. I was going to head over to your place. I got some news today, and I thought I should pass it on.”

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Ken and Mary Catherine looked at one another. “What happened?”

“Analise Salvador"s ex-husband tried to kill one of the prison guards yesterday.” Andy didn"t mince words. “Knifed him with some kind of homemade blade. She might have seen that. It"s been all over the news. He can say good-bye to his parole hearing now. I doubt he"ll leave the prison alive.” Mary Catherine blinked in shock.

“What could have made him do that? He was so close to that hearing, he—”

“No one knows. It"s being investigated.”

“
Jeez
.” She laid her hand over her heart. “Is it a terrible thing that I"m so relieved?”

“No. He should never get out. You need to tell Analise, if she hasn"t heard. I"ll keep her informed of things as the investigation progresses.”

“Thanks for stopping.”

“My pleasure. I arrested that bastard for what he did to Analise, and the longer he stays off the streets, the better.” Andy nodded to all of us before getting back into his cruiser and taking off.

After that Debra took Mary Catherine, Ken, and me inside to look around the appliance store. I had to admit that Ken was much better at picturing the building"s possibilities. He enthused over the space, painting word pictures, gesturing with his arms, and dragging Mary Catherine and me along until we could all imagine what he had in mind for the place. Eventually Debra left, and the three of us stayed in the parking lot talking for a while longer. As excited as Mary Catherine was about the possibility of a retail space, she was having a hard time getting her mind off Analise.

Mary Catherine bit her lip. “I wonder if I shouldn"t stop by her place and see if she"s heard.”

Ken said, “We could do that right now. I can take you there before I drop you off at Miss Independence.”

Mary Catherine turned to me. “Do you need a ride back?” I couldn"t help glancing over to the firehouse. “I think I"ll stay here for a bit. I"ll see you tomorrow?”

“Fine.” Mary Catherine waved. “I"ll see you then.”

“Nice meeting you.” Ken put his hand out again, and I shook it. He had a warm, firm grip and gave a little pump before letting my hand go. “I think we"ll be seeing a lot of each other if this works out.”

“I look forward to it.” I really did. I watched them drive away with a heart that felt—if not hopeful exactly—a little bit lighter.

The cold morning mist that moved in from the ocean like a blanket had never burned off completely, and this close to the water, visibility was limited. I stepped inside the firehouse and found Cam and his buddies playing cards.

58

Z. A. Maxfield

He winked up at me, ready to throw down his hand and see what I wanted, but I shook my head and asked where I could find JT.

“He"s in the kitchen cleaning up. Are you sure you don"t want me?” Everyone laughed as I passed and headed for the kitchen without answering.

Things must be vastly different in St. Nacho"s if you could joke like that at the firehouse.

I found JT loading the dishwasher. Something smelled mouthwatering, and I peeked into a nearly empty pot on the stove.

“Not chili, I take it. I thought firefighters always eat chili.”

“That"s a myth.” JT closed the dishwasher door and turned on the wash cycle.

“Like red suspenders?”

“No. That one"s true.” He had the same teasing light in his eyes that I"d originally thought might be flirtatious. Now I guessed it was just his way.

“Good to know.”

“Want to get some coffee?”

“You don"t have coffee here?” I looked around and found a full pot sitting on the counter.

“I want to take a walk.” He looked away. “I want to talk to you.”

“Oh.” I felt the first stirring of apprehension. “What about?” He jerked his head, indicating I should follow, and I did, walking alongside him, passing Cam"s card game, back out to the street.

“You warm enough to be out here?” he asked, hunching his own shoulders. He wore street clothes, jeans and a long-sleeve henley shirt. He glanced back at the fire station. “I could probably find you a sweatshirt.”

“No, I"m fine.” I followed him when he headed for the beach. At one point the walk was narrow because of a row of hedges, and he went ahead. I had to tell myself not to watch him, not to look at the way his jeans fit him perfectly, hanging low on his lean hips, or the way his shirt pulled across his back when he moved. I had to tell myself he was straight and off-limits.

I had to remind myself more than once.

“Why are we here?” I asked finally, when he got to the pier and stepped out onto the old timber boards to look over the water.

JT looked oddly nervous, despite how he stood with his hands draped casually on the weathered wood railing. “I think I may have given you the wrong idea,” he began, looking anywhere but at me. “I feel bad about that. I should have told you I had a date last night.”

“Why didn"t you?” I asked, then thought better of it. “No. Never mind. That"s stupid. Why would you?”

“I saw the way you looked at me… I think…”

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He was embarrassed for me.
Great
. “I"m a big boy. I know sometimes you like someone and they don"t like you back. Not that way… Straight or gay, sometimes it"s just not in the cards. No harm, no foul.”