***
Blake
"Mr. Bennett, the earliest we can deliver is next Monday," the vendor repeats for the fifth time. Her voice is just as friendly as it was the first time but just as unhelpful. If I were at the store, things would move much faster. I work my charm better in person than on the phone. "The bookshelf version you requested is a custom-made piece, so it's not just about the delivery. We have to make it first, and we take great pride in our craftsmanship."
Time to sweeten the offer. "I'll pay double your rush fee if you deliver it on Friday."
"We have no rush fee."
Well, now that's just bad business, but to each his own. I pace in front of Blue Moon, our flagship restaurant, growing impatient. The meeting with my location manager was supposed to start three minutes ago.
"Call it a thank-you fee if you want."
"What's the rush? Birthday present?"
"No. Someone moves in on Saturday, and she wants the bookcase. I want to surprise her by having it here already."
"Oooh, a romantic gesture. Right. Hang on, let me see...Yes, I can shift another order until Monday and move yours into its slot. Then I will personally make sure it's delivered on Friday."
"Thank you. Appreciate it."
"Look out for the confirmation e-mail and message with the new delivery date. Have a nice day, Mr. Bennett."
"You too."
Hanging up, I shake my head. Ten minutes of sweet-talking and bribing got me nothing, but the assumption that it's a romantic gesture wins the game in five seconds flat? Maybe I should put more stock in romantic gestures, though I've never been one for them. I didn't correct the assumption because I suspect that explaining it's for a "friend" doesn't have the same impact, even though it's true. At least eighty percent true, anyway.
At the wedding, I tried not to focus on how beautiful she was in her red dress. Yesterday I tried not to notice how perfectly her skirt fit her, or imagine what's underneath. I failed on both accounts. Truthfully, I've been failing at not noticing every detail about Clara for a long time. If there's ever been a time to succeed, it's now. Until Saturday, I'd better become a pro at it.
She's a family friend, an adopted Bennett, and those are off-limits for good reasons. Clara is more off-limits than anyone else. She doesn't have any family, damn it, and it's clear how much she loves being close to mine. I'm not going to make a mess of that. When it comes to women, making a mess is my specialty. I will be the best neighbor and friend I can be, make sure she's comfortable here.
Ross, my location manager, is waiting in the kitchen. It's the down-time between lunch and dinner, but we're still half-full, so the chefs and sous-chefs are buzzing around.
I co-own this place, two more restaurants, and the bar with Alice. Since she moved to London when Nate was made the executive producer of a famous TV show there, I'm in charge of overseeing day-to-day operations, and she focuses heavily on the business side that doesn't require her presence-mostly marketing and strategic planning. I say mostly because she still keeps a close eye on operations here at Blue Moon since it's our flagship location. She promised that she'd take a break while on her honeymoon. She kept her promise for all of two days.
"The meeting will be short," I tell him. "As you know, Alice is on her honeymoon. We already discussed that she'll be off the grid until she's back in London, but a mishap occurred today. Apparently, she exchanged fifteen e-mails with you. I want you to set an auto-responder to your e-mail for any messages coming from her address, saying,
"You are currently on your honeymoon. All your emails will be forwarded to Blake Bennett, and you will only receive an answer once you are back from your honeymoon.
Kind regards,
Your Faithful Team Who Insists You Need Time Off"
Ross looks somewhere between skeptical and terrified. For God's sake, has he no sense of humor?
"In a nutshell, don't answer any of Alice's e-mails, and under no circumstances will you send her any. I'll handle everything."
"What about the weekly report?" he asks in a timid voice. Yeah, Alice promised me she wouldn't request said report because she knows herself and will start firing off twenty e-mails the second she finishes reading it. I'm just saving my sister from herself with these measures.
"Don't send it to her."
"But what if-"
Right, the laid-back way isn't going to work today. Luckily, I'm not only excellent at laying the charm thick in person, but also displaying authority. "No ifs. Under no circumstances will you bother my sister. I'll handle any complaints from her. Understood?"