Page 43 of Charm

“You, me, this business,” I try to cover it all in one breath. “We need to discuss all of it.”

The shopper glances our way. Greer reads the subtle clue when the woman’s hand rises in the air.

“I need to help one of my customers,” she tells me. “Besides, I’m very busy. I don’t have time to talk about you, me, and this business right now.”

“When then?” I push. “It needs to happen.”

She shakes her head before setting off toward the small checkout counter. I watch in silence as she rings up the purchase, answering each question the woman has. Greer explains how one rolled candy treat came from a recipe passed down from generations. She takes credit for creating a fruit-flavored, tri-colored lollipop the woman claims her grandkids love.

The entire interaction is unrushed and has a friendly tone. It’s far from a routine business transaction. As Greer hands the small pink bag with the candies to the woman, they wish each other well. That ends with a hug when Greer rounds the checkout counter.

There is a lot more to Sweet Indulgence than I realized. I’m not here to weigh the merits of what I just witnessed against the increased profit I know I would enjoy if Carden acquired this company.

I’m here to see if the possibility of a deal even exists at this point.

More importantly, I’m here to see Greer, because now that I know who she really is, I want to get to know her more.

Just as that customer exits the store, another two enter.

I curse under my breath, but if it takes all day to get a word or two with Greer, I’ll wait.

I glance her way to see her walking toward me. She stops just short of where I am.

“I told you I’m busy.” She scratches the side of her neck. “You should go.”

“When should I come back?”

“Never.” She smiles.

I can’t help but smile, too. “What time are you done work?”

“Never,” she repeats.

I amend my question. “Will there be a time later today when we can talk? It doesn’t have to be here. I can buy you dinner so we can talk uninterrupted.”

“I have dinner plans,” she says in a rush.

Frustrated, but determined, I suggest an alternative. “What about dinner tomorrow?”

“I’m busy for dinner every night.”

“This week?” I question.

“Forever,” she answers. “I can meet you for a drink tonight after eight. It needs to be quick and close to here.”

I’m familiar enough with the neighborhood that I know there’s a Beaumont Hotel two blocks from here. “There’s a bar in the lobby of the Beaumont…”

“Hotel?” she finishes my sentence. “Are you seriously suggesting we meet at a bar in a hotel?”

“Yes.” I rub my chin. “I’m suggesting we meet at the hotel bar for a quick drink before I go my way and you go yours.”

It’s the last thing I want, but it’s obvious she wants little to do with me, so I’ll respect that boundary.

“There’s a bar around the corner.” She jerks her thumb to the right. “I’ve never stepped foot in it, but Krista has and recommended it. You can’t miss it. There’s a dragon sculpture near the entrance.”

“I’ll be there.” I tuck a hand in the front pocket of my pants. “At eight, you said?”

“After eight,” she clarifies. “Let’s make it at nine. I can give you thirty minutes then.”

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