Trenton jumped out and escorted Nevis into a seat then showed York and Bronx where to sit when they arrived. She supposed balancing people’s weights was probably important, although when the machine was loaded with equipment likely it was even more vital.
As soon as they were settled Andorra took off, lifting them smoothly into the air and flying west. Nevis stared out the window, watching the hills and valleys disappear behind them. The helicopter was noisy, but not as loud as she’d expected, although they were all wearing headsets with large earpieces which would block out some of the sound.
About half an hour later they landed in what seemed like a disused parking lot. There was a long, low building to one side of it, and a dirty blue trailer at the rear, which might have been a home or perhaps an office for the building. Something Bronx had said came into her mind. Something about living in a double-wide trailer while they set up the new branch. Was this it? Her new home? Nevis turned around slowly looking all around her. The parking lot was big enough for a transporter truck and half a dozen cars to park. And several big trucks would fit inside the building with space left over to store deliveries of whatever was to taken somewhere. The trailer home was big enough for the three of them. Judging by the windows, there was a room at the front they could use for an office, as well as a living area, and bedroom.
A big black car pulled into the parking lot as the helicopter took off back to the mountain. Or maybe on to somewhere else. Nevis hadn’t asked what Trenton’s plans were. Or what arrangements had been made to get them back home.
A balding, tubby man bounced out of the car and came up to greet them. “Holy shit. I never expected you to arrive by whirly bird! Name’s Mike, of Mike’s Realty.”
He shook hands with everyone and Bronx answered, “I’m Bronx. These are my partners, York and Nevis.”
“Welcome to Pine Corner. Now, follow me and I’ll show you around.”
Mike didn’t stop talking for the next twenty minutes as he took them over every inch of the property, telling them all about Pine Corner, the previous owners of the property, and the enormous potential of the area. Nevis was happy to trail around after them. She really had no idea of what was needed in the warehouse and the parking lot, but she took an interest in the unfurnished trailer, reassuring herself that there was space for them all to be able to work, eat, relax, and sleep. The large bedroom would be perfect for the three of them and was at the far end of the trailer, away from the door and the front room that would likely become the office. She’d want to add a door in the hallway to close off the living area from the office, so they had some privacy, but that was the only change. Of course, if any customers needed the restroom they’d have to be let into the other part of the trailer, but that shouldn’t happen too often. Or they could put the door at the entry to the living room. That’d solve all her problems. She imagined Bronx would soon find a diner or restaurant where he’d tend to meet up with potential business associates instead of the office anyway.
Mike did exactly what Nevis had assumed Bronx would do once the business got started. He took them into town to a French bakery and settled them at an outdoor table under a sun umbrella. “I call this my office away from the office. This place has the best pastries and coffee in town,” said Mike.
A teenage girl came up to the table and asked, “The usual, Mike?”
“Thanks, Deirdre.”
“Espresso, latte, or mocha?” she asked Nevis.
“Mochaccino, please.”
Deirdre raised an eyebrow at York who said, “Espresso, thanks.”
Mike and Bronx were talking now, and Nevis was happy to sit back in her chair and look at the town and the people. The café was in what appeared to be, if not the main street, certainly a busy one with lots of stores. Plenty of people were around, coming and going, but the pace seemed more leisurely than what she was used to in a big city, and that suited her fine.
Their coffees arrived with plates, forks, and a tray of pastries. Not, as Nevis had expected, delicate, mouthful-sized bites of food, but rich, cream-filled or fruit-topped delights, which could only be eaten with a fork.
“Dig in. I bet you’ve never tasted anything this good before,” said Mike, picking up a cream -filled pastry for himself before handing the plate to Nevis.
She took one filled with fruit, and after one bite had to agree that they tasted delicious. Rich, but with the flavors blended to perfection and the pastry so light, she could almost forget she was eating it, but for the buttery aftertaste. “This really is wonderful,” she said.