It Started with a Dog, page 16
“Executive vice president.”
“Oh wow!” She clapped her hands. “I can’t believe it!” She stacked her hands over her heart. “I’ve worked so hard for this!”
“You have indeed. And you are most certainly one of the top contenders for the post.”
Harper’s smile faded. “Not the top contender?” she asked, and for one tiny breath of a moment, she believed Soren was going to say that of course she was the top contender, that she’d misunderstood him.
But he did not say that. He moved his head side to side, as if mulling it over. “I have not as yet felt the right energy in a decision about you. Therefore, I am considering many things. I plan to open two bistros at once. The properties have been purchased. The architect will arrive in Austin at the end of the month.”
“You bought two properties? But I thought we were going to scout a property together.”
Soren shrugged.
Harper smelled a rat. When exactly had he scouted these properties? “Where are these two places?”
“Rochester, Minnesota. And Cary, North Carolina.”
Neither were cities that Harper would have chosen off the top of her head, and certainly were not cities Soren had ever mentioned. Her eyes narrowed. “When did you say you visited these cities?”
Soren sighed. “During the season of pagan ritual and religious pageantry.”
“You mean the week I was in Houston.”
Soren put his hands together in prayer pose and bowed.
Kendal, that weasel. No wonder he’d been so vague about his holiday. He’d gone in Harper’s place. “May I ask why you chose that week to go visit two cities we never discussed?”
“Are they not interesting prospects? Are they not inventive convention? The cities are perfect for testing the bistros, and if successful, we will roll out four more to larger markets.”
“That’s going to take a lot of cash up front, Soren. Where are we going to get that kind of money?”
“Ah, you’ve struck on the challenge of inventive innovation.”
“It’s the challenge of finding investors. Do you have any lined up?”
Soren hopped nimbly to his feet. “I have ideas, Harper. The garden of my mind is verdant and lush. But the task of bringing investors will be another aspect of the work you may perform.”
Wait a minute—Harper had envisioned running things, not funding them.
She had to roll on her hands and knees to get up off the floor and hated Soren even more because of it. “Just one thing,” she said before Soren could flit off to another topic.
“Life is never one thing, Harper. Life is a series of spiritual journeys.”
Whatever, Soren. “This job, this . . . new vision looks like there is a lot of advance work involved. What is keeping you from promoting me now? Deja Brew on Congress is about to open. You like what you’ve seen so far. What more are you waiting to see? I’ve worked for you for four years now—surely you know whether or not I’m capable.”
“It is true I like what I’ve seen, my fair girl, but the operation is where the tropical plant latex may come into contact with the path to prosperity.”
Could he not just once say where the rubber meets the road like normal people?
“And to reiterate, you’re not the only candidate.”
“But I should be,” she said boldly. “Veronica is very clearly where she wants to be. I know, because I asked her. And Kendal is . . . an administrator?”
Soren looked as if her confusion about Kendal’s exact title confused him. “Harper . . . what sort of custodian of creativity would I be if I didn’t encourage all of the gifted to join us? My job is not to lead, but to encourage growth.”
“Oh my God,” she muttered in frustration.
“Now.” Soren picked up his phone and typed into it. “Kendal will provide the prospectus I’ve been inspired to create for your review and input. You’ll need to have read it by the time the architect comes to town. I’ll be critiquing the breadth and depth of your imagination.”
“Had I known that—”
She didn’t finish her thought, because the door opened, and Kendal bustled inside. Harper looked at him and he looked at Harper. “Hello, Kendal. I hear you had a great holiday.”
Kendal smiled faintly. “It was not my idea.”
She didn’t know if she believed that or not. “Where is the prospectus? I look forward to reading it.”
“Perhaps you ought to look forward to viewing it instead,” Soren suggested, and chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Kendal?”
Kendal whipped his phone from his pocket and began tapping. “I am forwarding it to your e-mail now.”
“Great. That’s just great.” Harper stepped around Kendal and went out, her heart thudding with each step she took. It was plainly obvious to her that if she was going to win this promotion, she was going to have to pull out all the stops. She did not intend to lose to Kendal. She could do this! She was an overachiever, she excelled at everything she did, and this wasn’t going to be the time she didn’t, damn it.
By all rights, this job should be hers to lose. How was she losing it? Was this happening because she was a woman? She considered it, but shook her head. Soren was many things, but he’d never given her the sexist vibe. He tended to think they were all equal creatures of the universe, right down to the nasty crickets that appeared all over town in the fall.
It was far more likely that this was some philosophical exercise that had to do with the development of the executive’s mindset or some such nonsense.
In her office, she angrily tried to wave off the scent the incense had left on her clothes, which smelled like wet soil. She sat heavily behind her desk and pulled out her phone. She opened the file Kendal had sent her. The picture on the video icon was of Soren seated on his blasted cushion, his hands in prayer pose, his head bowed. Harper stopped the video and turned her phone facedown on her desk. She shifted her gaze to the window and stared out at the familiar whole foods sign just below their offices. Minnesota? North Carolina? She wondered what her parents would think if she moved across the country. They wouldn’t care, she already knew that. They would say, “Oh, wonderful! What a great opportunity,” and plan another trip. The only person who would care would be Olivia.
She tried to picture losing her promotion to Kendal. What would she do if Soren passed her up? Would she stay with StreetSweets? She couldn’t imagine that she would. She then tried to picture herself in another job. She’d invested so much into this one. What would her goals be? She had to have goals. If she didn’t have goals, who was she?
And then she tried to imagine herself without Jonah.
Nope. Not to be borne. She couldn’t think about it, not for a second. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about his opportunity in Spain. She just wanted things to go back to the way they had been before he found out about Deja Brew. She could really use something happy right now. She wanted to see Jonah, to figure out how to turn this situation between them around.
She picked up her phone and pulled up the text box. Hey! I’m thinking of running later. Would you be interested?
A couple of moments passed, and her phone pinged. Please choose one:
-I’m thinking of running a few miles later.
-I’m thinking of running out of money later.
-I’m thinking of running a fever later.
She smiled. I’ll take running a few miles for $500, Alex.
The three dots appeared, and then, $500? Then I’ve been running with the wrong crowd. Nyuk. Nyuk. I will have to bring my very bad dog.
Great. We can watch him chase dicks.
They arranged a time to meet after work. But Harper couldn’t sit here with Kendal and Soren just outside her door for another two hours. She knew what she needed to do to cheer herself up.
* * *
At the ACC, Cinder was surprised to see her. “Hey, you’re here during the week! Bob will be so happy to see you. No one walked him today.”
“What? No way!” Harper couldn’t imagine coming to the ACC and not choosing Bob to walk.
“Let me get him for you,” Cinder said after she’d checked Harper in. She disappeared into the back and returned a few minutes later with the bulldog. He marched out as if he’d been waiting for her all day and was mad she was late. When she leaned down to pet him, he growled and turned his head. Harper reached again, and Cinder gasped. “Be careful!”
“It’s fine. He’s just mad,” Harper said, and petted the stubborn dog. After a few seconds, Bob glanced up at her. His bottom teeth were jutting out. He would never admit it, but he liked a good scritch of the ears. “I’m sorry no one walked you today,” she murmured. Bob licked her hand. Not once, but twice.
They had an understanding.
She and Bob set out in the opposite direction of the alley behind the donut shop. Bob didn’t seem to mind today. As they walked, she told Bob about her day. “I know you don’t care,” she said, “but this has been a very shitty day. Until now.” Bob grunted once or twice as she talked, but mostly he was interested only in the path before him.
Harper stopped at the greenbelt like they always did. But this time, Bob didn’t crawl under the bench. This time he sat and leaned against her leg. It was a first. “Wow,” Harper said. She bent down and caressed his head. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. I guess you were listening after all.”
Bob slid down onto his belly and sighed loudly. They sat together for fifteen or twenty minutes, together and silent, each lost in their own thoughts.
Eventually, they made their way back to the ACC, and Harper told Cinder about Bob leaning against her.
“Really?” Cinder sounded amazed. “I don’t know why you don’t adopt him. You obviously adore him.”
“I can’t,” Harper said. “I work really long hours and I live in a tiny apartment. Bob wouldn’t be happy.”
“Hmm,” Cinder said. “People always think that, but it’s funny how these things work themselves out.”
Not for her. If things went her way, she’d be moving soon anyway.
Harper said goodbye to Bob, who was already pointed away from her, straining at the leash, wanting to return to his crate. “See you Saturday!” she called after him. She turned and walked out of the gate, passing the gazebo, where people waited for their dog walking assignments. The King Mutt poster caught her eye and Harper paused. What if . . .
The idea floated into her head. “Nah,” she said to herself. “How much trouble would that be while opening a new store?”
Olivia called her as she drove to meet Jonah at the trail entrance under the Loop 1 Bridge. “Hi, Olivia.”
“Don’t sound so excited. Where are you and what are you doing?”
“I’m . . . actually I’m about to go for a run. Can I call you back?” She pulled into street parking and glanced around for Jonah’s truck. She didn’t see it.
“No. You can talk to me while you run because you didn’t call me back like you promised the other day.”
“Did I promise? No matter, I promise now I will call you back, but I can’t talk and run because, a, I am not that coordinated and, b, I need to breathe.”
Olivia was silent for a minute. “Is something going on with you?”
“What?” Harper laughed too loud. “No!”
“Really? Because you sound super weird, like you’re hiding something.”
“Nothing is weird, Livvie.” She saw Jonah’s truck coast into a spot under the bridge.
“I know what it is. You think I don’t, but I do. You hooked up with that totally random phone guy, didn’t you?”
Harper barked a laugh of surprise as she got out of her car. Truck was straining on his leash, and it looked like Jonah was having to use all his strength to hold him. “Olivia! He’s not random, he’s Jonah. And I really can’t talk right now—”
“Just yes or no, Harper. Let me know that much.”
“I promise I’ll call but I—”
“Yes or no!” Olivia shouted.
“Yes!” Harper shouted back, and with a laugh, she ended the call and slid the phone into her pocket. It began to vibrate against her leg, but she let it go, because Truck had reached her, leaving a swath of slobber across her running tights as he sniffed out the phone. “Truck!” she cried, and bent down to hug the dog’s neck.
“I am so sorry,” Jonah said, and kissed her. “He’s so bad.”
“He’s perfect.” She smiled as she reached up to knock some of Jonah’s dark hair from his brow. “It’s so great to see you.”
“You too.”
With her hand, she shaded her face from the late afternoon sun, assessing him. “Are you still crazy about me?”
He smiled. “I’m still crazy about you.” He pulled her in for a deeper kiss. But Truck was straining again, his nose moving over Harper’s legs like she was made of mutton, whimpering like a baby, and Jonah let her go.
“What is the matter with him?” Jonah asked.
“Oh . . . I went to see Bob today.”
Jonah pulled Truck off her leg. “And how is good ol’ Bob?”
“Grouchy.”
“This one will be, too, if we don’t get started. Ready?”
They began to jog, but were soon running to keep up with that enormous, exuberant dog. Harper was grateful that Truck stopped to mark his territory every so often, because that was the only way she could keep up with Jonah. In spite of the pace, they managed to talk, and Harper’s job woes melted away from her. They talked about their favorite episode of The Office, how hungry they were for good, greasy burgers, and how they couldn’t wait to take a dip in Barton Springs when the weather was a little warmer.
They talked about sports, and the new smoothie place by campus, the homeless camping ban the city had just passed, and the lineup of music at South by Southwest, which would be happening in a few weeks. Everything they discussed was easy and fun and they thought the same way and they laughed at the same things, and Harper still couldn’t believe that she’d lucked into this man. That they were in competition seemed like a distant dream.
When they’d finished their run, Jonah said he had to go. “I have to finish some paperwork tonight and I know I won’t be good company. But this has been fun. I needed it.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her in.
“Me too,” she agreed, and as he bent his head to kiss her, she decided that there was nothing wrong, that everything was as perfect with Jonah as it had been before she ever took him to Deja Brew. That and all the foreboding she’d been feeling the last couple of days were silly. Everything was awesome. Or as Soren might say, everything was formidably sublime.
She just wished she could ignore that tiny seed of doubt.
Fifteen
Everything was not awesome, at least not on the Lucky Star side of the street.
Jonah had spent the last couple of days going over their expenses, squeezing the proverbial blood from the turnip. But there was only so much squeezing he could do and he made the painful determination they were going to have to let go of Paula, their part-time morning server. He didn’t think she’d be surprised—the Star simply didn’t have enough business to justify paying her, especially when there were five members of the Rogers family milling about every day. They could easily cover her work.
Also, it looked like he was going to have to break his promise to Burt. They couldn’t afford a part-time kitchen assistant. Burt was going to have to keep working with Mom. Burt was not going to like it. Neither was his mother.
Mixed in with his anxiety of how to make the Lucky Star work, they all kept an eye on Deja Brew. Amy reported seeing the coffee delivery come, and how she could smell the roast across the street. Uncle Marty had been cleaning off the painted Christmas pictures and had noticed the Tiny Pies van pull up and unload its wares. Artwork arrived, and so did books. The Little Stacy Book Club had peeked in the windows of Deja Brew and reported that the titles were recent bestsellers. They were excited about that little library.
This business was maddening as hell. Jonah wondered what Grandpa and Grandma had seen in a coffee shop. Maybe things had been vastly different back then, but from where Jonah sat, it seemed like his family had been riding along on the Lucky Star’s make-or-break teeter-totter his entire life. One year was good, the next one depressing. Up and down, up and down—give him aerospace engineering any damn day. Jonah would much prefer to think about velocity and astrodynamics and propulsions than how to pay staff and where to cut corners. Here, there were too many people to consider, too many feelings to be hurt, too many sleepless nights agonizing about the bottom line.
But on the other hand, the Lucky Star was teaching him a few things. It presented a puzzle he was compelled to work through.
Business had dropped off since the first of the year. Every January saw a drop-off—after celebrating a long holiday season, people tended to stick close to home in the opening month of the year. This January was worse than usual, which Jonah reported to Allen one evening when his cousin called to check in. Jonah gave him a litany of the Star’s woes, to which Allen had said, “Just get to spring, Jonah. That’s what Dad always says—you just have to get to spring when people are out more, and things will bounce back.”
“Do things really bounce back in the spring? Like, what’s so magical about spring? The Star is not bouncing, Allen. We are landing with a thud every day. Other places are bouncing back, but not us.”
“You sound like you want to throw in the towel. Just get to spring.”
Jonah had taken offense. “I’m not throwing in any towel. I am telling you what we are up against.”
