Page 82 of Falling for the Bad Boy
“Too late. I’ve been more than generous with you on time. It’s not going to work out with you being involved with the bar anymore. I’m immediately terminating your employment, and I’ll need you to vacate the apartment.”
“Wait.” I couldn’t leave. Not without fixing things with Trinity. Wyatt and the bar could be damned for all I cared. But I wasn’t letting her go without a fight.
“Forty-eight hours. Just drop the key off at the bar. Sorry we couldn’t figure out a way to make this work.” The line went dead.
“Wyatt?” I paced back and forth across the small kitchen. “Damn.” I’d have to go downstairs and talk to the man face to face. All I needed was another week. If I couldn’t make things right with Trinity by then, I’d retreat home. But not so fast. Not when I still had a chance.
CHAPTER 37
Trinity
I paced the first floor of the warehouse as I waited on hold with the yarn vendor. I’d been passed around from one person to the next for the past fifteen minutes and no one could tell me where my shipment had gone. Ordering from a domestic supplier would have been easier, but I’d wanted something different, something a knitting enthusiast couldn’t just pick up at the local craft store. Why hadn’t I taken the easy route for once in my life? Instead, I’d ordered an entire line of hand-dyed merino wool from a company in Australia.
“Ms. Ryan?” A woman’s voice came over the line. “Are you still there?”
“Yes.” I paused, hope bubbling up in my chest.
“We located your shipment.”
“That’s great. Thank you so much. Can you send it out for redelivery? Tell me when to be here and I’ll make sure I’m available to sign for it, I don’t want?—”
“Unfortunately it’s being held up in customs.” The woman cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do.”
“What?” I blinked several times, as if closing my eyes would change things. “I don’t understand.”
“When the shipment was refused the carrier marked it to be returned to us. But something went wrong, and now it’s stuck.”
I tried to swallow but my throat was too dry. My voice croaked. “But I need that yarn.” Even if it arrived tomorrow, it would still be cutting it close to get the samples of the knit-along shawl made up in time for the social media blitz Macy planned.
“I can try reaching someone there, but I’m not certain we’ll be able to redeliver. At this point, you can either place a new order or try finding another supplier.”
“Do you have enough stock on hand to ship another order? And how long would it take to arrive?” I tried to calculate the lead time and shipment in my head. Even if they rushed it, the dates probably wouldn’t work.
“It would take some time. We sent you what we had on hand for the hand-dyed skeins. If we have to start from scratch, taking all of our other orders into account, the best we could do is get it to you in about six weeks’ time.”
“Six weeks?” That wouldn’t do. Stomach churning, I tried to think, to force my brain to figure out an alternative. “But my grand opening is less than a month away.”
“I’m sorry. It’s the best we can do.”
Silence stretched the thousands of miles across the phone line. I’d fail before I even opened the doors for business. Everything I’d planned revolved around the hand-dyed skeins from Australia. Of course I’d ordered a few lines from other places as well, but the kits I’d created and the knit-along pattern I’d already published featured the gorgeous yarn that was now stuck in customs somewhere.
I tapped my foot on the hardwood floor. “Do you know where the shipment is? I mean, which customs office is holding it?” If I could find out, maybe I could go pick it up myself. With luck, it would be local. Maybe it was still sitting at the airport in Newbridge. Or even Chicago. I could borrow Macy’s SUV and get back and forth to Chicago in an afternoon.
“I don’t have that information. My guess is it’s probably in LA.”
“LA? Like Los Angeles?”
“Exactly. But I’ll keep trying. I’ll let you know if I receive any updates.”
“Thank you.” I forced the words past my lips. It wasn’t the supplier’s fault, it was mine. I should have been there to accept the shipment. And I sure as hell shouldn’t have put my trust in Oliver. I’d been right to steer clear of men who wanted something more from me. More than I could give. The one time I put my heart on the line, and look what had happened.
As I ended the call and lowered the phone from my ear, I clamped down on the sob threatening to wrench from my chest. I wouldn’t cry over Oliver. He wasn’t worth it.
CHAPTER 38
Oliver
I knocked on the door to Wyatt’s office. No one answered, so I tried the handle. I’d never noticed the door being locked before.
