Page 14 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
“How… How is that legal?”
By the table’s uproarious laughter, you’d think Candace told a spectacular joke. Uncle Perry’s lawyer, Vinny Lamarka, was the loudest of everyone. But, the humor never reached his eyes. Still grinning, he answered, “This is a bit technical, but it’s a breach of confidence clause. The courts can’t expect your uncle, a businessman, to rent to a failing business. It’s just, well, bad business. Right?”
“I…”
Candace’s head felt muddled and not from her drink. Uncle Perry was going to force Bagel Bombs! to close so that he could have room for another gift shop, parking lot, or some flash in the pan oddity. Spite was also a likely possibility. He hadn’t liked Daisy DeMarco since that first time they met. He never made it a secret how he felt about her business being a stone’s throw away from his lofty empire.
So, he would force Daisy to close.
It wasn’t right. It probably wasn’t legal. Yet, Peter Perry would get away with it because his type always did.
Vinny’s attention was fixed on Candace. His expression regarded her like the others, as if she were the token ditzy blonde. His gaze, though, was sharper—daring her to question the legality a second time.
The man was dressed in a plaid button down and tan dockers, plain and casual, as if he bought the outfit off a department store mannequin. You would have trouble picking him out of a lineup of the other mid-fifties, late Gen X men currently dining on the veranda. Unassuming, he had an easy smile and was always eager to talk about his big family’s Sunday pasta dinners.
Candace had known him longer than anyone else at this table and knew very well to tread lightly. He was Uncle Perry’s lawyer, but he was also his fixer. Through methods legal or otherwise, troublesome business associates and the people who stood in Peter Perry’s way had a habit of kowtowing after a visit from Mr. Lamarka. If she ever really stepped out of line, she knew he would fixher.
The white hot, angry fire inside Candace shrank to a simmer. She took on an airy tilt, saying, “I understand I’m in over my head with all this boring talk.”
“Good girl,” her uncle dipped his aviators and winked. “Like I said, this is all too complicated for you. Don’t worry. Let me handle the business side of the family, and the good times will keep going.”
Good times.
The phrase echoed inside Candace’s head, mocking her.
If Candace worked for her uncle or continued to take his money, she was a part of it. HIS, at the mercy of a reprehensible man’s morality. Whatever he did with his liability nightmare, money-gouging behemoth—destroying more pieces of Wonderwood history and bullying his way into success—would fall back on her.
Is that what Candace wanted? The grand revelation of a question echoed on repeat inside her head.
“Why don’t you put her on a billboard?” Ed Cando suggested. “A mascot like her would draw in all the boys.”
Mock aghast, Perry told him, “I run a family establishment! We don’t need sex to sell tickets. Although…”
More jokes and ribbing went around the table. Ideas of how the fun pier could age up its attractions, from plausible to cringe-worthy pitches worthy of an early 2000’s exploitation reality show, were met with raucous enthusiasm.
All the while, Candace nursed what might be her last drink in a long while. She thought of it as such because she’d come to a conclusion. Tuning out the piggish banter, Candace waited for the brunch’s conclusion. At her car, she made a show of thanking her uncle for his generosity. She buttered him up, became the besotted, blithering idiot he wanted her to be. Then, she retrieved her convertible from the grimacing lot attendant, and floored it back to her motel room.
Candace did not have a moment to lose. She had research to do.
If Peter Perry wanted to make it his business to break down another person, Candace would make it her business to build them up.
Chapter 4
Daisy
“Zee? Hey, Earth to Zee!”
Rio, Daisy’s reliable part-time employee (reliable in the sense that they would occasionally arrive on time for their shifts), tried to get her attention. It was a futile effort.
Daisy had been distracted all morning, and it had nothing to do with a certain blast from the past that had come barging up to her counter the day before.
Nothing at all.
But, in her musings, Daisy did wonder how Candace’s meeting with her uncle had gone. Did she cozy up to the man and get what she wanted? Would she really come back and tell Daisy how those bagel bombs were? Why was she stillso damn hot?
Daisy’s mind wandered on that twisting track as she cleaned for shift change. It was not until a bagel,thrown with expert precision, hit her square on her forehead that she realized she was being spoken to.
“Er, yeah.” Daisy guessed, “You can have Tuesday off.”
