Page 8 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
Hesitating, she reached down and took hold of his hand. When she gripped his palm, he squeezed. Her heart was still beating much too quickly to be considered normal, but when he met her gaze, she smiled. “Okay.”
“Do you think your gram is finished with the tarts?” he asked, a bashful little smile on his mouth.
Violet stepped forward, pulling Jasper as she moved toward the cottage. “Let’s find out!”
5
Now
Janet fumed through the phone. “We don’t have enough T-shirts. I sent you emails with updates for the order. Did you not get them?”
Violet had made a shared spreadsheet with ‘names,’ ‘dates’ and ‘number of requested shirts per family,’ asking both of her bosses to update the data as they saw fit and as they received direct requests. Perfect organization and meticulous planning—a wonderful system to keep things in order.
Utterly ignored. What Violet had received instead was a barrage of carelessly forwarded email chains across four weeks with any number of correspondences that she was expected to manually decipher and count. It had been a complete mess.
“I received them,” Violet explained. “But the number of participants in your correspondences weren’t always clear and there were multiple emails. I tried my best to keep track of your numbers. I’ll have more T-shirts delivered as soon as possible—”
“Do you know how expensive expedited shipping is?” Janet exclaimed. “Just forget it. I might have some T-shirts from last year’s event in my basement. I’ll pull those out and count them. This is one of the most important marketing events of the year, Violet. I expect things to be flawless.”
Violet sighed. Thingswouldbe flawless if she weren’t always being set up for failure. Should she mention that she ran the final T-shirt count by her bosses twice? Probably not.
“I understand, and I apologize sincerely for this mishap.” Should she mention that they were only missing three T-shirts, and that two people had already cancelled attending the event (and that they had ordered one for her, too, and she could always give hers up)?
Nope.
“We’ll talk more about this in our meeting next week. This isyourjob, Violet. The expectation is for these things to be taken care of. I know we’re letting you work remote because of your grandmother but… if I have to step in and do things like this, maybe we should reevaluate your role here.”
Gosh, over three T-shirts.Mind you, because of Violet’s marketing efforts, this event had already raised more funds than any of their past events, and would have the highest attendance. “Understood,” Violet said.
When she hung up the phone, she looked at her wristwatch: 12:46 p.m. She logged off her computer. It had been a week since she’d dropped the first bag off at Laurent House, so according to Gram’s schedule, she was due for another trip. She grabbed her coat and purse, deciding to make the hour-long drive into the city for her grocery haul. An uncomfortable encounter with Freddie Martin was the absolute last thing she needed right now.
When she reached the front door to the cottage, her work phone buzzed. Pulling it out of her bag, she glanced at the screen.
[Karen: Shoot I missed the call.]
[Karen: What are we doing about the T-shirts we’re missing?]
Karen: How many is it?]
[Karen: OMG this is so stressful!!!]
[Karen: Should I ask my cousin about the thing in his garage?!]
Violet set the phone down on the foyer table and left.
* * *
The day wassunny and bright after a week of dreary rain. It made the drive into the city all the more pleasant and Violet had even cracked her windows for some fresh air despite the chill.
Pulling up to Laurent House, it looked slightly less homely because of the sunshine. It was still in desperate need of some care, but its derelict nature wasn’t as severe juxtaposed against a lovely blue sky.
She pulled her wool coat a little tighter against her body, then grabbed the heavy grocery bag and headed toward the door. She’d bought a little extra for Jasper since she knew she’d have to travel into the city next week for the work event. She’d do the shopping again the day after, but she wanted to be certain.
Standing on the porch, the yard and house were silent again. Nothing stirred as she used the heavy knocker. She waited.
Quiet. Only the rustling of dry leaves in the apple orchard.
“Well, last week’s bag is gone, at least…”
