This might have been worth it if he'd actually gotten to
sleep with the woman. Maybe
Flynn Fitzpatrick shifted his foot on the toilet seat over
slightly, his hands braced against the inside of the
bathroom stall where he hid. On the other side of the thin
metal partition, the two women stood talking—blissfully
unaware of his presence. They discussed their business
dilemma in front of the row of restroom sinks.
"You really think we should find someone to impersonate
Junior's son? There is no Thomas Cullen, III!" the older
woman on the other side of the stall door growled in her
gravelly voice.
“What other option do we have?” The younger one with dark
hair put her hand on her hip, lifting her chin in a
determined manner.
Hunkered down over the porcelain facilities, Flynn heard a
belligerent voice yelling on the other side of the women's
rest room door, screaming his name, threatening to beat the
shit out of him before kicking his ass.
Note to self: ask future secretaries/dates if they have
insanely-jealous homicidal, ex-con boyfriends.
"I know we have to come up with something, but can we really
pull it off?" the older woman asked, deaf to the screaming
in the hall outside. "I mean Davenport's at the table right
now waiting for us. What are we going to tell him?"
"I don't know, Margaret, but we have to try something!" the
younger woman said with energy as the angry voice was raised
again outside the women's bathroom door. "If we don't come
up with a 'business owner', we can't get lease space in
Davenport's new shopping center. It’s the most lucrative
place to be—high end businesses and high-income customers.
The neighborhood is great. We have to get into that
center…even if we have someone impersonate Junior’s
make-believe son. Since Davenport insists on meeting and
dealing with the owner, this is the best plan."
"Damn Junior Cullen and his disappearing habits."
"Yeah," the younger woman agreed, adding in a convinced
tone, "But inventing an adult son of Junior's just might
satisfy Davenport. It's the best chance we have. If we don't
move the store to a better location soon, we'll be out of
business."
"Where is he! Where's that Fitzpatrick bastard?" The
bellowed words echoed even louder as if the insane headcase
who was after Flynn were immediately on the other side of
the door panel.
Flynn grimaced to himself as Rita's ex-con boyfriend's words
reached his ears, only slightly muffled by the restroom door.
Really, they’d only gone out a few times. This was over the top.
"What the heck is all that commotion?" Margaret wondered as
several other voices could be heard in response to Rock, the
man who wanted to kill Flynn.
"I don't know," the younger woman responded, for the first
time distracted from her own dilemma. "Sounds like some
idiot has a beef against a guy named Fitzpatrick."
The voices outside grew more faint, as if they were
retreating. Flynn could only hope the restaurant staff was
escorting Rock out of the establishment. With any luck, the
police would be called and they’d find a reason for taking
Rock into custody. There were always reasons with Rock.
"Never mind that, Ellie," the older woman said again. "Do
you think we can really get someone to act the part of
Junior's son? Who? We're going to go out there now and
promise to introduce this whoever to Davenport?"
"Yes," the younger one--Ellie—said with decision. “I don’t
see that we have any choice.”
Flynn tilted his head to get a better look at her through
the slender crack between the stall and the door. Dark,
straight hair skimmed down to her chin and he could just see
the side of her face. With her jaw set firm, she looked
determined for a woman of her twenty-something years.
Clearly, she was the leader of the two.
"Damn Junior for pulling his disappearing act now," Ellie
said with exasperation. "I thought for sure he'd be back by
the time we needed to meet with Davenport."
"Disappearing is Junior's specialty," Margaret stated
grimly. "He's been doing it for years. He's got you to
manage the store he inherited from Daddy. Why should he
start acting like a responsible adult at the age of fifty?
He never has before. And again I ask--who do we get to
impersonate this fictional Thomas Cullen, III?"
"If it weren't for his age, we could have Henry do it. Henry
would enjoy it."
Margaret snorted. "We can't have a son who's the same age as
Junior. Henry is many things—he’s a genius at jewelry
design--but he can't help here, and Brian's too much of a
wussy baby to do it. Typical bookkeeper."
"That's not fair," Ellie said. "To bookkeepers or to Brian.
He's probably our best bet. I know he's…."
"A scaredy cat?" Margaret supplied.
"I'm sure he'll be glad to do it, once we explain everything
to him," Ellie said. "He wants to keep his job, too. Jobs
aren't just lying around."
"Davenport's crazy to keep insisting on meeting Junior,"
Margaret stated. "You’re the reason the store hasn't gone
belly-up these last five years. You practically live at that
jewelry store. All that bling makes you happy."
"Well, I haven't been able to stop us from hemorrhaging
money at our currant location. Come on, let’s get back to
Davenport," Ellie said, pushing her brunette hair back from
her face as she picked her purse up from the bathroom
counter. "We’ve got to get on with this fairy tale."
"This is a pretty gutsy plan from someone who generally
makes honesty her policy," Margaret said, as she followed
the woman named Ellie to the door.
Ellie chuckled. "It's not a plan, it's an act of
desperation. But you've got to admit there's something
beautiful about getting someone to impersonate a person who
doesn't exist. Not a tremendous amount of risk. Besides I've
got to keep the store alive. Seven people are out of a job
if I don't."
Her voice trailed away as she left the bathroom.
Flynn could see Margaret shake her head, following Ellie out
the door.
"I'd probably be at the front of the unemployment line, at
my age." Her words grew fainter as the door closed.
****
"So sorry,"" Ellie said with a smile to the gray-haired man
at the table as they seated themselves again minutes later.
"Not a problem, ladies." Davenport, a bulky man in his early
fifties regarded them with a tolerant gaze as he chewed.
"This is really excellent roast beef. I must remember this
place."
"Yes, they have good entrees," Ellie said with a smile,
lifting her favorite string of white pearls off her collar
bone. "About the retail space at the Pine Valley shopping
center? I'm convinced that Cullen and Son Jewelers is
exactly the kind of store you need. Pine Valley will bring a
much-needed high-end retail location to the east side. The
demographics of the area cry out for a jewelry store that
will appeal to customers' discrimination and respond to
their needs for individual attention. With the estate pieces
we carry and our capacity to create one-of-a-kind items,
we've got what you need."
She paused, hoping her sales pitch swayed him.
"I am looking for just that kind of store, Ms. Myers," John
Davenport agreed. "We all know that the economics of that
area of town can support a venture like Pine Valley, even in
this economy. I've built three other successful malls in
various parts of the south. I'm convinced, however, the
major part of the success of my projects is that I hand-pick
the individual businesses…in a large part because of the
owners of these ventures."
"I was wondering,"" Ellie said, jumping feet-first into the
only gamble that might pull this off, "would a meeting with
Thomas Cullen, III, make you more comfortable with leasing
to us? His father, Thomas, Jr., is the current store owner,
but the younger Thomas has been working with his father and
will one day inherit the store."
"Oh," Davenport looked up from his plate. "Cullen has a son?"
"Yes," Ellie made herself add a warm smile to her lie. "He's
still learning the business, of course, but we think he's
going to be like his grandfather, the man who founded the
store. Very forward-thinking in business. Junior's son has
been working in the store, familiarizing himself with all
aspects of the business, to prepare himself for his father's
retirement. I would have asked him to join us today, but he
already had another appointment."
Even while she tried to sell the idea to Davenport, in the
back of her mind, Ellie rifled through all the men she could
draft into the scheme. Poor Brian wasn't the best fit for
this kind of venture. A certain amount of flair was called
for, along with the ability to inspire confidence while
being a total fake. Not that it was that much of a
deception. If her plan could save Junior's store and the
jobs of its employees, it would be a good gamble. She'd make
sure it paid off for everyone involved.
She mentally shuffled through her male relatives and even
the men she’d gone out with in the last six months. She had
to find someone who could be convincing.