The Baby Arrangement. Lisa Dyson
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do you suppose that was all about?” Nick asked Pete when they were alone again.
Pete shrugged. “Beats me. You know how she is.”
He certainly did, and that’s exactly why he was concerned.
* * *
LATE MONDAY AFTERNOON, Bree entered the main conference room at the BeeTee office. Roxie, Amber and Hannah were already seated, silent as they were busy on laptops or cell phones.
She pulled out her chair at the head of the table, setting her glass of water down in front of her as she lowered herself into her seat. “Would you mind moving your coffee cup?” she asked Amber, who sat to her right.
Amber’s head jerked up, and she narrowed her dark eyes as she moved the cup. “You’re still not able to drink coffee?”
“Are you sick?” Roxie asked, looking up from her phone to join the conversation from her place next to Amber. “You haven’t been right since the island. That was two weeks ago.”
Hannah added in her two cents. “Yeah. You’ve never been able to survive without coffee.”
Bree shrugged. “I don’t know. Just the smell of it makes me nauseous. Ever since we got back from vacation.”
“But a hangover doesn’t last two weeks,” Roxie pointed out. “Maybe you should see a doctor. Could be an ulcer or something.”
Bree waved away her suggestion. “I’m fine. I’ve probably just upset my stomach lining with so much alcohol and now I’m paying the price.” She paused. “Maybe it’s a good thing, healthwise. I’ve not only given up alcohol but coffee, too. I’m sure this is just temporary.” She consulted the list of discussion items she’d brought with her. “Let’s get started. I’d like to get home and freshen up before we head to dinner.”
The women nodded in agreement and got down to business. They spent the next hour on each of their departments. Roxie, the most outgoing of the group, was head of marketing. Amber was head of technology, a role in which her confidence and skill served her well. And Hannah was the artistic one of the group who consulted with clients about their websites and corporate logos.
Bree had been blessed with a group of friends who got along so wonderfully while having entirely different talents to offer BeeTee. And they worked well together when it came to making big decisions.
“Everything sounds good,” Bree announced after they’d each finished briefing her. “Is there anything else I should know about Pinar Garcia and her restaurant?” They’d already decided to back her restaurant, but hadn’t told Pinar yet. Going to her pop-up tonight was just a formality to see how she handled a hungry crowd.
“Nothing new,” Roxie said. “Her background check came back and all seems fine. Nothing more than the student loan she’s nearly repaid and no criminal record.”
“Glad to hear it.” Bree gathered her things and paused before standing. “What time is dinner?”
“Six to nine,” Hannah said. “Why don’t we meet at The Tides around six thirty?”
“Sounds good to me,” Roxie said. “Pinar said they have our names at the door.”
Bree nodded and the others began talking about what they were going to wear this evening. She left the conference room and headed back to her office. She had one last phone call to return before going home.
The advantage of locating her company in Arlington, Virginia, was the ability to walk home from work to her high-rise condo. The two-block distance was usually not a problem weatherwise except for early February days like today with freezing rain. If given the choice, she would rather take a long soak in her tub and then put on her comfy PJs than go out tonight. But this was her job, and this was important. She blamed her recent lack of energy on working too hard without her usual high doses of caffeine, as well as it being the most dreary month of the year.
By the time she reached the restaurant later, there was a line of people to go in.
“Come to the front.” Roxie had appeared behind her. “You don’t need to wait out here.”
Bree wasn’t the type to use her influence when it meant others couldn’t benefit, as well, but she did as Roxie suggested. After giving her name to the woman at the hostess desk, Bree said to her, “Several people are standing outside getting wet. Is there any way you can get them inside quicker?”
The young hostess appeared startled. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Tucker.” She came around the podium. “I’ll make sure they get inside. There’s probably enough room for them to wait in the entranceway. And I’ll try to get them checked in faster.”
Bree nodded her approval. “Great. We want the patrons to enjoy the food and not be turned off before they get to try it.”
“Nice going,” Roxie said when the girl was out of earshot. “The hostess, I think her name is Calista, is Pinar’s younger sister. I’m not sure she has much experience, so I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Good idea,” Bree said. “Let’s check out the food. I’m starving.”
“Me, too.”
The restaurant was set up with the eatery’s usual tables and chairs, but a long table with food on it buffet-style had been added at the far end of the room. The idea for Pinar’s pop-up restaurant was to offer a tapas-only dinner, but not in a formal dinner style. Instead, diners could mix and mingle, stand or sit, whatever they preferred. More like a casual cocktail party than a sit-down dinner, which was a nice nod to the origin of tapas. Pinar had explained that the small plates had been initially designed to cover glasses of alcohol, specifically sherry, to keep the fruit flies away.
The decor in The Tides restaurant was nautical, but definitely on the tasteful side—no large fish hanging from the ceiling or nets filled with crustaceans. Instead, the pale blues and greens on the walls were a nice backdrop to ocean vistas in framed photographs, as well as oil and watercolor depictions of calm seas.
Bree had been to The Tides many times. Her favorite dish was their mahimahi in a bourbon sauce, quite different from the Spanish tapas laid out on the table in front of her for this pop-up restaurant event.
She recognized some of the food, like empanadas and olives stuffed with anchovies. But others were new to her. Pinar had been smart to put little signs in front of each platter to tell diners what they were eating.
There was a potato dish with a sauce she couldn’t identify, and chorizo cooked in wine that she could probably make a meal of by itself.
“How do you think it’s going?” Pinar had made her way through the throng of people to the corner where Bree stood with her plate of food. “We have a good turnout, even with the bad weather.”
Bree nodded. “Lots of hungry people.” She gestured with her plate. “Great food, too.” Although she hadn’t done more than nibble because her stomach still wasn’t feeling quite right. There was a smell she was detecting that seemed to be causing the upset to increase. No need to tell Pinar that, though. She had enough to think about.
Pinar colored slightly at Bree’s compliment. “Thank you. I’m so glad you approve of the menu.”
“I do. I think this is a great start for your restaurant. Why don’t you make an appointment with me some time this week, and we’ll discuss the terms of your contract.”
Pinar’s eyes widened. “Thank you so much! You don’t know what your financial help means to me.”
Actually, she did know, but she didn’t correct Pinar. “I’m glad we’ll be able to provide it. You have a good product and deserve to have a chance to make a go of it.”
Pinar was still speaking when Bree’s attention was drawn across the restaurant to the entrance. Her eyes must be deceiving her because the two men talking to the hostess looked exactly like—
Nick