Begging for Trouble (26 page)

“Wow. Bobbi-Rob really told his sister where to go when she pushed you about workin’ on his case,”
said Rudy as he and Ellie left the Davenport.
“I got a feelin’ she won’t be pesterin’ you about it anymore.”

“Good thing, too,” Ellie agreed, heading toward the nearest Joe to Go. Rob and Kayla’s discussion had been so single-minded, she hadn’t even been able to ask the woman about Eugene walking Bradley. She was almost sorry she’d left Bitsy in the middle of the fight. “I’m glad he understands my position.”

“Sure sounds like he does.”
He gazed up at the street sign.
“It’s freezin’. Please tell me we’re goin’ someplace warm for lunch.”

“Joe’s on Lexington. I want to hear what Sara said when he told her about my idea.”

“Yep. His turkey on whole wheat is great. You’ll love it.”

They arrived at the Joe to Go, where they found the owner standing behind the counter. Instead of taking orders or working the register, Joe had the same expression on his face that Bitsy’s had earlier: lost in a daydream. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked him when she got to the head of the line.

“Huh?” He blinked, then focused on her. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Because I thought maybe you were posing for one of Madame Tussauds’ wax creations.” She gave her order to the woman at the register and pulled out her wallet. “What’s up?”

Head down, he hurried around the counter, grabbed her arm, and led her and Rudy to the only empty table in the room. “Wait here. Lunch is on me. I’ll be right back with your food.”

“Yowza. He’s got it bad,”
Rudy said, circling before he plopped on the floor under the table.

She ducked her head. “Bad? Bad how? Do you think something happened to him after we left?”

“Raging what?” She sat up straight. Was Rudy saying what she thought he was saying?

“You talkin’ to me?” asked the man at the next table.

“Uh, sorry, no. Just thinking out loud.”

“Ri-i-ght.” The guy drew the single word out to three syllables, stood, and carried his trash to a bin.

“Jeez! Some people,”
Rudy groused.

Before Ellie could comment, Joe arrived with her lunch. “You gonna order the same thing every time you come in here? Like the Caramel Bliss?”

She lifted half of the turkey on whole wheat, picked out a shred of meat, and fed it to her boy. “I like your version of the drink better than the one Starbucks makes, and this is a great sandwich, so I guess I will.” She took a huge bite. Something was up with her friend and, thanks to Rudy, she had an idea what it was. After swallowing, she asked, “Did you get a chance to stop in the bakery next door?”

Joe blushed, something Ellie hadn’t seen him do since college. “Uh, yeah.”

“And?”

He squared his shoulders. “And nothing.”

“But you met Sara and her girls.”

He sat down across from her. “How’s the sandwich?”

“You’re avoiding my question.” She took another bite.

“If this is how you act when you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, it’s no wonder Ryder gets ticked.”

Still chewing, she pulled off another clump of turkey and passed it to Rudy. After taking a sip of her coffee, she said, “How about you leave Sam out of this and answer my question. Did you meet Sara and her girls?”

He blew out a long breath. “Yes, I met Sara and her gir—er—dogs.”

“And she liked my idea?”

“Yes, only . . .” He dropped his gaze to the tabletop.

“You’re making me crazy,” she countered. “Just tell me what happened between the two of you.”

Joe’s complexion washed from red to white in a nanosecond. Then he swallowed so hard Ellie thought he might toss his cookies right there in the shop.

“I think I’m in love.” The words came out choppy but clear.

As usual, Rudy was right, though it was a stretch to believe Joe was “in love.” “Considering you only met the woman yesterday, I think that’s rather a strong statement, don’t you?”

His face bled red again. “I can’t help how I feel. It’s just . . . there.”

Joe had dated about a thousand girls in college, each one dim-witted and, to a man’s way of thinking, sexy as hell. He’d made slightly better choices recently, but the women Ellie had met still had that dumb-as-a-stick, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful” attitude. She didn’t begrudge Joe love, but jeez, Sara couldn’t have been more opposite his usual type than beer was to champagne, and not the cheap kind either. Sara was more Cristal Rosé, one of the most expensive champagnes in the world.

“Are you sure you’re talking about Sara Studebaker?”

“No. I mean Sara Schizophrenia,” snapped Joe, slipping back into his usual teasing manner.

“How long did the two of you talk?”

“Ten, maybe twenty minutes.” He glanced at the front counter and stood. “I gotta go.”

“What in the world was that all about?” Ellie muttered aloud to her boy.

“He said he had to go,” answered a school principal- type woman sitting at the table the grumpy man had just vacated. “Pay attention when people talk to you.”

“Er—yes, ma’am.” The woman had the perfect posture of a yoga instructor and the expression of a longsuffering saint. “Sorry.”

She tossed Rudy a look and smiled at the principal.

“And why is your dog inside? This is a restaurant. I believe there’s a city ordinance that bars animals from entering places that serve food.”

“Rudy is a service dog,” Ellie began, crossing mental fingers. “That means he can go wherever I go.”

The woman stared at her as if she belonged in a petri dish. “Oh, really? And why might you be needing a service dog?”

“That question is a little too personal for me to answer.”

“I can acknowledge your sentiment, but why isn’t he wearing his vest?”

Ellie closed her eyes. She had known this day would come; she should have been better prepared for it. “Ah . . . his vest is at home.” Why hadn’t she practiced the answer months ago? “I forgot to put it on him this morning.”

“Then I assume you’re carrying his card?”

She made a production out of looking at her watch. “Oh, gee, sorry, but I’m late for an appointment.”

Standing, she hoisted her tote bag onto her shoulder, dumped her trash in the container, and hustled out the door with Rudy trotting along behind. She really did need to look into getting him certified as a service dog. She just had to take the time to do it.

Relieved to find herself in front of Sara’s store, she went inside. The workmen were gone, the bakery cases were in place, shelves decorated two walls, and pictures of dogs hung on all the remaining free space. Sara had even posted an advertisement for Best Friends, Ellie’s favorite animal charity, and the organization’s magazines sat in a rack near the door.

“Hello! Anybody here?” she called, taking a seat at one of the four tables.

The sound of excited barking came from the back room. Seconds later, Pooh and Tigger danced in, their snow-white tails wagging. “Hey, ladies. Where’s your mistress?”

Pooh and Tigger had never answered her, but they had a good rapport with Rudy, who rubbed noses with each Westie, then said,
“Sara’s in the back. She’ll be out in a couple.”

Ellie scratched Tigger, who was a bit friendlier than Pooh, between the ears. “Have you been a good helper today?”

Sara walked in smiling. “Ellie. I thought that might be you when the girls ran out. They’re not much in the way of watchdogs, but they do know a friendly voice.”

Sara wore a bright red apron over snug jeans and a black ribbed turtleneck. Her dark blond hair was pulled up in a ponytail, a dash of cherry-colored lipstick covered her generous mouth, and a little mascara enhanced her bright green eyes.

“You look great. Did anything happen today that you want to talk about?” asked Ellie.

“I’m pumped. The ovens are in, and they work like a charm. I called the city, and the inspectors should be here by the end of next week.”

“So the business will be up and running soon?”

“My guess now is three weeks, but I’ll need to build up stock before I open. There’s a lot involved in making my treats, you know. I’m thinking of hiring someone to lend a hand.”

“Good luck with that,” Ellie told her. “I’ve been through three assistants in the past six months and interviewed a half dozen others. Joy was the best. I’m still hoping I can convince her to return.”

“I just need someone to bag the cookies once they’re out of the oven and have cooled, attach my tag, and stock the cases—and maybe sweep and straighten up.”

“So you plan to open the shop and man the register, bake the goods, do inventory of the cases and shelves, and clean the kitchen, then close up for the day?”

Sara’s eyes opened wide. “When you put it that way, I guess I’ll need two assistants.”

“You could stick a Help Wanted sign on the window.”

“Great idea. It’ll be up tomorrow.” She rubbed her nose. “Have you had lunch?”

“I ate at Joe’s,” said Ellie, happy that Sara had given her an opportunity to pry. “He’s my college buddy. I’ve known him for over ten years.”

“Really. Funny he never mentioned you.” Sara scratched Pooh’s perked-up ears. “Pooh Bear seemed to like him on sight, which doesn’t happen too often. She’s a lot pickier than Tigger about the men she meets.”

“Joe is a great guy. What did you think of him?”

Sara’s lips thinned. “Ah . . . well . . .”

“I’m talking about a guy six feet tall, with a fabulous head of black hair, killer brown eyes, and a great sense of humor.” Sara’s bland expression made Ellie think maybe she had another man in mind. “That is who we’re talking about, right?”

“The guy you’re describing did come in, but all he did was stare at me, mumble something about running the coffee shop next door, and go on about me serving coffee here. He did pet Pooh, which I liked, but he was kind of weird.”

“Hmm. Joe must have had something on his mind.”
Like the hots for you.
“He’s usually quick with a comeback or a clever line. And he’s a talker.”

“A talker? Uh-uh. Not this guy. Do you know what he meant when he mentioned something about serving coffee here?”

“Sort of. I think he’s hoping the two of you can work out a deal. You give a coupon to each of the people who buy a dog treat here offering them a free cup of coffee at Joe’s shop. He hopes they’ll stop in, buy some of his people food, and become regulars. It’s a giveaway for you and a business gimme for him.”

Sara smiled at the explanation. “That’s a good idea. And maybe he could give his customers a coupon for ten percent off anything they buy here as a trade-off.”

“Now you’re with the program.” Ellie glanced at her watch and stood. “Oops, we’ve got to get moving. I want to finish my afternoon runs before the snow starts to fall.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Sara pushed away from the table. “Will I see you on Monday?”

“We’ll stop by if we can. And do me a favor?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“Give Joe another chance. Drop in when his afternoon traffic slows and tell him your idea about the coupon exchange. He’ll get better. Honest.”

“I can do that,” said Sara. She closed the door and waved through the glass, mouthing “Bye.”

Ellie zipped her jacket and gazed at the still-dark gray clouds. “What do you think happened to Joe? Sara’s description didn’t sound at all like the man I know.”

“I cannot believe he acted like a jerk.” They headed across Lexington to Park. “Do you think she’s telling the truth?”

“Why would she lie?”
He gave a full-body shake.
“The weather report is right. It’s gonna snow up a storm.”

“And you know this because . . .”

“I do know.” They crossed Madison and headed toward Fifth Avenue. “I was hoping to go to the club and talk to Bill Avery again. He wanted to tell me something the other day, but I never got around to having the discussion.”

A snowflake floated past Ellie’s nose before she could answer. Then another . . . and another. Seconds later, the air was filled with big fat flakes, swirling like icy moths as they made their descent. “Okay, fine.” They turned left on Fifth and headed for the Beaumont. “I guess I’ll have to stop at the club tomorrow, after the roads are cleared.”