I groan, running my hands up and down my face. “The girl there hates me,” I admit. “She hates everything that has to do with this gallery. I think she was friends with the previous owners. She doesn’t seem like the type that likes the fact that we made the small little gallery more…”
“City?” Trisha finishes.
I nod. “Yeah. That.”
“Then go to her and tell her that even though this isn’t the gallery they’re used to that you appreciate small businesses and would love to show off her delicious food at the opening.”
Trisha crosses her arms over her chest, pinning me with a stare that doesn’t leave a lot of room for arguing. She’s right. Pippa’s little bakery would be perfect for the mess I’ve found myself in, but I’d much prefer riding the god-awful mechanical bull at one of the bars in this town than asking her for help.
“She’s too smart,” I remark off-handedly. “There’s not enough smoke I could blow up her ass to make her believe the whole small business speech. It’s too last-minute. She’d be onto me immediately.”
“How about I go ask her?” Trisha offers. “No one can say no to an old lady.” She flutters her eyelashes, making me bark out a laugh.
“You’re not old,” I tell her, sitting up in my chair.
She smiles. “Good answer. I’m off to go lay on my old-lady charm anyway.”
Trisha doesn’t say anything else. She flutters out the door, and as I watch her leave, I already know what Pippa’s answer will be. I just hope I’m wrong.
6
PIPPA
“No,” I tell the woman standing in front of me. She’s been in here every morning recently, and now with her request to help Camden, I’m wondering if that sneaky asshole has been drinking my coffee.
“I think it could be really great exposure for you,” she continues, seemingly unfazed by my answer.
I wipe at the table in front of me, trying to get all of the surfaces clean before closing up the cafe for the night. It was another busy day, and all I want to do is get home, take my shoes off, make some dinner, and sit on the couch for the rest of the night. There are multiple new episodes of some of my favorite TV shows tonight, and I’ve got a bottle of wine I’ve been dreaming about opening all day long.
“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be rude, but the answer is no,” I tell her again. I’m often terrible at names, but I think she said her name was Trisha and she was the assistant to the owner of the gallery next door. Considering there’s only one gallery next door and there’s only one owner as far as I know, I’m pretty sure the sweet woman behind me has to work for Camden Hunter.
“Camden told me you’d say that,” she says. This catches my attention. I look at her from over my shoulder, my interest piqued.
“He did?”
“Sure did. In fact, he told me not to come over here at all. But there’s probably only one more person on this Earth more stubborn than him, and that’s me.” She shrugs, a grin playing on her lips. “So here I am.”
“He seems like the kind of man who would fire an assistant for not following his requests.”
This makes her laugh. A long, high-pitched laugh that takes me by surprise. I make eye contact with Bri, another one of my employees, trying to figure out what’s happening here. “He truly comes off like a pompous asshole, I know. But he’s not so bad. A lot of bark but very little bite.”
“Now, I think that comment would really get you fired,” I mutter under my breath.
Why does this woman seem to be so fond of him? Surely there are better people to work for.
The woman sighs, her eyes drifting around the room. We don’t close for another hour, but we typically don’t get many customers this late in the day. We’ll get a few stragglers wanting to pick up bread to go with their dinners or a dessert for the night, but for the most part, we stay pretty empty once the late-afternoon fades into evening.
“We’re really in a bind.” Her voice gets softer, but there’s still a hint of worry to it.
I set the rag on the table behind me, turning around with a large sigh. “Look, even if I wanted to help, there isn’t enough time. I’m sorry.”
She nods, already looking at the door with a sad look on her face. “I’ll tell Mr. Hunter you’re sorry.”
“Oh, I’m not sorry for him. I’m just sorry you’ll have to deal with him.”