Laina Turner - The Trixie Pristine Boxed Set Read online

  “No, I’m not,” he replied with a look that gave me goose bumps.

  Chapter 5

  I completely understand, Derek. I appreciate you doing as much as you could. Talk to you later.” I hung up the phone and leaned back in my office chair.

  It figured. I started getting excited, and of course something had to happen to ruin it all. Derek had just called to tell me we couldn’t get as much money borrowed from my 401k as we’d thought without penalty. With the housing market down, there wasn’t enough equity to borrow against, and I sure wasn’t going to tap into Cody’s college fund. That’s it, I’m going home early, I thought. I gathered up my things and called out a good-bye to a surprised Sasha, who wasn’t used to seeing me leave early.

  Grandma used to say everything bad happened in threes, so hopefully that meant I was done with the bad luck for a while. I sighed. It had been one of those days. I was told that budgets were cut and all library employees would have to take a fifteen percent pay cut, and I was going to have to let a couple of my part-timers go. I had known for a while that it might happen I had just been hoping that the council would find the money somewhere. Reducing my staff would mean reducing the number of programs I would be able to offer to the public, not to mention hurt people’s livelihood.

  Then I got a call from the bank in the afternoon notifying me that my recent deposit, the child support check from my ex-husband, had bounced, which of course caused the check I had written for Cody’s basketball shoes and the one I had written for Zumba classes at the Y to both bounce. It’s not like I had a ton of extra money in the bank to cover money that disappeared after I thought I had it.

  To cheer myself up on the way home I decided to stop and get myself a vanilla cone dipped in chocolate. It worked until some idiot stopped short in front of me, causing me to slam on my breaks, which in turn caused the ice cream to slide off the cone into my lap and then onto the floor of my car. So no ice cream and a dry cleaning bill on top of it. Hopefully the carpet shampooer would get the sticky ice cream out of the car carpet.

  Uh-oh that was four things. Just great. Was I going to have to wait for two more bad things to happen for the good things to start up?

  Cody, my eight year-old son, was at Boy Scouts, and his friend’s mom was bringing him home, so I had about an hour to reflect on my crappy day. I poured a glass of wine and went into the living room to just veg on the couch for a few. I kicked off my shoes and propped my feet up on the ottoman and closed my eyes. If I wasn’t careful, I would fall asleep, and that wouldn’t be good. I had too much to do, but sometimes it was so nice to do nothing.

  Forcing my eyes open, I looked at the pile of mail I had brought in with me. Might as well open up the envelopes and see how many bills I would have to try and cover without Jordan’s money, as I knew I hadn’t a chance in hell of getting him to make good on his check. I don’t know why I thought in the first place it would even be good to cash. What I had ever seen in that man was beyond me. I was too blinded by his good looks to use common sense, I guess. You would think that since I was thirty when I met him I would have had a little more sense, but no. By the time I realized he was all surface and no substance, I was pregnant with Cody. Silly me compounded being pregnant with the bad idea of thinking marriage would change a man.

  I realized about the time Cody was born that it was never going to work between us. Jordan had the inability to keep a job and the ability to attract every hot-blooded female in a fifty-mile radius to him. Not a good combination. We divorced when Cody was barely a year old, and to my surprise he had turned out to be a good dad. I just couldn’t rely on him to be a grown up or provide any financial help. It could be worse, though. I was just happy he always wanted to spend time with Cody.

  I looked at the mail and set the obvious bills aside. Stuck in between the water bill and the gas bill was a letter from my mom. That was strange. She was supposed to be somewhere in Europe. She had gone on a month-long tour overseas with a group of her friends, and I hadn’t expected to hear from her. Sure enough, it was postmarked from Paris. Hmmm, I wondered why a letter instead of a phone call. I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. I picked it up—it was a check.

  For $50,000.

  What the hell was going on?

  I started to read the letter:

  Dear Trixie,

  I am sure you saw the check when you opened this letter and are wondering if I have completely lost my mind. While sometimes I think I have, it usually is temporary, and things go back to normal. Anyways, I digress. I have enclosed a check for fifty thousand dollars that is yours free and clear to spend as you wish. You see, this money was in a mutual fund your father started to save for your college. It appears your father forgot about it when time actually came for you to attend college, and it has just now been brought to my attention. The good news is that it’s worth a lot more now than it would have been when you actually went to college, so I hope you can put it to good use. I am loving Europe. I may never come home.

  Love, Mom

  Wow. I leaned back onto the couch. I couldn’t believe it. So maybe the bad things were over, and the good things were starting.

  Chapter 6

  You just have to look past the dirt and grime and see it’s a gem,” Berklie said as we walked into the old fabric store that we hoped would be our dream’s new home.

  I walked to the middle of the space and looked around. This section of town had been built in the early 1900s and had a lot of character. The ceiling went up the full two stories, and the front was all windows letting in a lot of natural light. I could envision tall bookshelves along the walls with space for tables in the middle with a coffee and wine bar across the back. And there was plenty of room for a pastry case. “You’re right, Berklie, this place does have possibilities, but is this even affordable? This area of downtown is expensive, I thought.”

  “That’s the good news,” Berklie said, barely able to contain her excitement. “We own it.”

  “What?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Remember how Tom and I got in that big fight about a year ago because he had been buying up real estate around town with our cash reserves and hadn’t told me until I went to pay our taxes and noticed our accounts were low?”

  “Oh yeah, that was a three bottle night,” Sophie said.

  “Well, apparently after the fabric store went out of business the landlord was having trouble leasing it again and was running out of cash, so this is one of the buildings Tom bought. As of this afternoon, I persuaded him to sell it to us for a very, very good price.”

  “And he went for that?” I asked incredulously.

  “It took a little convincing on my part, but he finally saw reason,” she said smugly.

  “What did you threaten him with?” Sophie asked.

  “Now what makes you think I threatened him with anything?” Berklie said, trying to look innocent.

  We both gave her a look.

  “Okay, fine. I may have had a little something to hold over his head.” She laughed.

  “What? Tell us!” I said.

  “I found out he was cheating.”

  “Didn’t you already know that?” I asked, confused. “Besides you’re almost divorced. Does it really matter at this point?”

  “Not his cheating on me, silly. He’s cheating on Sylvia the slut.”

  “What?! No. Who with? How the hell did you find out?”

  “I have superior detective skills.” She paused. “And really good—or bad—timing, depending on your perspective. I saw his car at work late last night and stopped in to ask him again to just sign the damn divorce papers so we could both get on with our lives, and he was doing the horizontal tango on his desk with his new secretary.”

  “No! Do you think Sylvia the slut knows?” I asked.

  “Based on his freaked out response and his asking me to promise not to tell the slut, I’d say no. That’s how I got the build
ing. He said to name my price, and I said this is what I wanted. He had the papers drawn up today, and it’s a done deal.”

  “Yeah!” I squealed with excitement. “Thank goodness for blackmail.”

  “I know, right? Poor Tom. Has to buy off his ex-wife to keep his girlfriend from finding out about his mistress. How in the hell does that happen?” She laughed. “I couldn’t make this up if I tried. It proves I am so over him. This is funny to me. Especially because I love knowing that Sylvia is getting payback and knowing I have something to hold over Tom’s head.”

  “You’d think he would have learned his lesson,” I said.

  “Except, his inability to keep it in his pants got us this building.”

  Sophie pulled out a notepad and pen. “We need to start making a list of everything else we need.”

  “We should measure for shelving, we need some display cases towards the back, and we need to figure out how many tables will fit here in the middle, and chairs of course,” I said, ticking this list off one by one on my fingers as Sophie furiously scribbled it all down. “We also should find out from the fire marshal how many people this place can hold.”

  “Slow down. I don’t want to forget anything.”

  “Trixie, have you given any thought to giving notice at the library?” Berklie asked.

  “Yes. I called and left a message with Doug Ratlen. He’s the head of the city council, but he hasn’t called me back yet. I’m of course willing to help them transition in any way, but I’m hoping that once I tell him he will let me promote Sasha and I can take my unused vacation time for my two week notice. If we want to open May 15th, then I need as much time as I can get to spend here.”

  “No doubt. That’s just barely over three weeks away,” Berklie said. “Tom has the kids tomorrow, so I was thinking we should come here in the morning and clean. I made arrangements to have those bookcases delivered on Monday, so we need to get this place as clean as possible before then.”

  “I’m in,” said Sophie.

  “Me, too. I have Cody, but if I bribe him with a few bucks to clean, he’ll jump at the chance. He’s been eyeing this new Star Wars Lego set at Target and has been looking for ways to make extra money. What bookcases are you talking about?”

  “I tell ya,” Berklie said, “I never thought blackmailing my ex-husband over his new girlfriend would be so much fun. Not only did we get the space we wanted, but I also got him to throw in those antique books cases that he inherited from his aunt, and I talked him into getting us some radio time to promote the store.”

  “How did you manage that?” I asked.

  “I told him that’s what I wanted to not say anything to Sylvia about his indiscretion. Oh, and that I had the right to keep adding things to my list of demands.”

  “How long do you think he’ll continue to let you blackmail him?” I asked.

  “For as long as he continues to screw up so that he needs to hide things. The way he’s going, I should get a lot of mileage out of this.”

  “Trixie, I have some ideas floating around in my head for some flyers for the book drive we need to have to collect all the used books we can,” Sophie said. “I’ll work on that tonight so we can finalize tomorrow.”

  “That’s great, Sophie. I just hope we have enough books to open with.”

  “I think if we advertise around here and on Craigslist, we should have more than plenty,” I said. “The trick is for us to figure out how to pay people for the books and how to price them for the customers. I’m sure we will make most of our money on drinks and snacks. By the way, we need to apply for a liquor license and find a supplier for the baked goods.”

  “I took care of the liquor license application,” Berklie said. “We just have to wait for the council to approve it, which I am sure they will. They meet again next week.”

  “That’s awesome, Berklie,” I said. “You are on top of things. I hadn’t even thought that far.”

  “I told you that almost twenty years playing Tom’s dutiful assistant would come in handy. I also took the liberty of calling Avery over at CupCakes and Donna over at the bakery to see if we could order from them daily. They were both thrilled to hear about our endeavor and are willing to work with us on a daily order, since right now we don’t really know how much to order. I also got the name of the wine distributor from Larry over at Bud’s Bar to see what we can do there.”

  “Berklie, I don’t know what to say. That is fantastic.”

  She smiled with pride.

  “I feel like such a slacker,” Sophie said playfully.

  “This is what I’m good at. The details and making connections. You, Sophie are the rock star of marketing chic who we are depending on to drive folks to the shop, and Trixie’s talent will be managing the store itself. That’s why we make such a great team.”

  “You said it, Berklie,” I added.

  “We need a name,” Sophie said.

  “We do, but you’re not going to get it from me,” I said. “I’m not exactly the creative type. Not even after a few glasses of wine.”

  “Me, either, Berklie said. “Sophie, you have any ideas?”

  “I’ve been thinking, and there are a couple I came up with that I was hoping you might like.”

  “Well, what are they? Don’t keep us in suspense,” I said.

  Sophie rifled through her papers until she found the ones she was looking for and held two papers up for us to see. One had the name READWINE printed on it and the other THIRSTY BOOKS. Berklie and I were silent as we looked at the papers.

  A few seconds went by until Sophie said, “What do you think? Do you hate them? I have other ideas. I just liked these the best.”

  I could tell she was nervous waiting to hear what we thought. “I don’t know about Berklie, but I like them both.” I turned to Berklie. “Your thoughts?”

  “I agree, Trixie. I love them both, too. The difficult part is going to be choosing which one we like best.”

  Sophie beamed with delight and pulled out some more papers from her pile and set them in front of us. She had designed both of the names in different fonts and colors. “Here, I thought it might help to see a few examples of how each name could be designed.”

  “I like this one for ReadWine with the wine bottle and glass in the background,” I said.

  “Me, too,” said Berklie.

  “Then ladies, ReadWine it is!” I exclaimed. “This calls for a toast.” I held up my glass.

  Chapter 7

  I brought my coffee pot from home to the shop and was in the process of putting coffee in the filter and water in the reservoir to get it going. I could have really benefitted from sleeping in, so I needed the caffeine. Cody was already working away sweeping. Granted, he was more just moving the dirt and dust around to different spots, but he was trying. He was such a good boy.

  “I’ve got cleaning supplies and Krispy Kremes,” Sophie called out as she walked through the door.

  “Thank goodness for fattening donuts and caffeine. I may make it through the day after all.”

  “So, where should we start?”

  “We could each start at one side of the room and meet in the middle. It’s not like we need to do anything fancy, just scrubbing the grime.”

  “Okay then, we might as well get going,” Sophie said.

  My coffee was finally done, so I poured a cup and doctored it with the French vanilla creamer I had splurged on rather than the skim milk I should have bought. I figured what the hell, with all the hard work cleaning, we would do would more than burn off the calories. And even if we didn’t, sometimes you just needed to treat yourself. I took my coffee and cleaning supplies over to the far side where Cody was doing his sweeping, pulled on my rubber gloves, and got to work. Amazing how an empty building could accumulate so much dust, dirt, and grime.

  “Where is Berklie?” Sophie asked after about an hour of cleaning. “I thought she was meeting us here. Wasn’t it her idea in the first place?”

  “I
guess she’s running late.” I shrugged. “Should we call her?”

  “She’s a big girl. Something must have come up. We can give her some more time before we start harassing her,” Sophie said good-naturedly.

  We were just about to break for lunch, and I decided I’d call Berklie. It wasn’t like her to be late without calling. Sophie and I were discussing where to go for lunch, and I retrieved my phone back from Cody, who’d finished with his portion of cleaning and had been playing games while Sophie and I were still working.

  “I’m going to call and see where she is at.”

  “Good idea. I’m starting to get worried.”

  The phone started ringing. “Hmmm, that’s strange. It went right to voicemail.”

  “Okay, now I’m officially worried.”

  “Me, too. Should we go to her house?”

  “Why don’t we? We’ve gotten a lot done here, so we deserve a break.” Sophie and I gathered our things and were just about to walk out the door when an obviously mad and upset Berklie came through the door.

  “Berklie, where’ve you been? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” I said.

  Then I saw she was shaking.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “That slut is going to pay,” she said, her anger obvious.

  “Sylvia? Why? What happened?” I asked.

  “That bitch put sugar into my gas tank, and it quit running on me about two miles from home. Good thing Jim Roth drove up behind me a few minutes after, because of course my cell phone was dead, and I didn’t have my car charger.”

  “How do you know it was sugar in the tank?

  “Jim called Craig’s Car Service, and he came out and said that’s why it stopped. Sugar was poured in the tank and clogged up the filter, which then prevented fuel from reaching the engine or something like that.” She waved her arms as if she couldn’t be bothered with the details. Small wonder, since anything car-related was off the charts for Berklie. Not that I could blame her. I would be the same way. “Luckily, Jim was coming into town and offered to drop me off here, while Craig towed my car to the shop. Tom sure as hell will be paying this bill. Wow, you guys got a lot done already.”